from the Blimesophistry Blog Group
Our train car stumbled through an awkward bend, jerking me from my feverish, travel-bowel dreamings. While I drowsed, John scribbled gadget sketches into a soggy journal and munched old roasted chestnuts from a paper cone. Now the Spanish morning poured through the window curtains, so we checked our watches, both of us, and made ourselves ready for Bilbao.
For four weeks we had hitchhiked and trained north through Portugal, enjoying brilliant hospitality and cheap lodgings wherever we went. There was an unchecked friendliness, a moral peace that flowed fluently from everyone. We were shamed by the Portuguese. As Joao led us through the Barrio Alto at 3 O'Clock AM, from basement bodegas to Azulejo (the national blue, handcrafted tile) lined bars with pretty, smiling women drinking cherry-flavored liquor underneath clothes-lines, I recalled the apathetic, cold-hearted moments of my life.
Joao did not know us. He introduced himself to us in a cybercafe in Evora, about an hour's bumpy bus ride east from Lisbon, and welcomed us to stay with him in his home. As a 11PM ritual, he would invariably say, "Now it is time for us to walk." The walk consisted of an unrehearsed amble through the old Roman town, drinking beer and wine, kissing more of his pretty, smiling women and generously permitting his American friends to receive their blessings as well. We spoke nothing but english. They spoke english for our benefit. Therefor, I felt honored, and embarrassed.
But when John and I stepped from the train into the city of Bilbao, we were greeted by pamphlets proliferating as we watched, growing randomly, sprouting suddenly and shockingly over cobblestones, yards of grass, store front walls, trees, and car windshields. John stooped to pluck one that had drifted in on a breeze, landing like a feather on his boot. He gave it a glance and handed it over while scooping up another. It read as follows: "USA = ISRAEL = NAZIS" with the respective emblems tied to the appropriate equivalent. As a Jewish American, I found the association between Israel and Hitler's fascist regime ridiculous, and the connection to good old USA absurd; at the very least, offensively hyperbolic.
Nevertheless, as our journey led us deeper into Europe, we found that the sentiment was not only common, but a consensus. On rare occasion, small groups of men and women allowed us to engage them in conversation, and increasingly we found that we were endlessly apologizing, assuring that the policies issuing forth from the leaders of our country were not universally supported. Not all Americans support the invasion of Iraq; not all Americans believe that our country has been bestowed with the Divine Authority to pursue selfish, economic goals under the name of unsubstantiated accusations. More importantly, time and time again, we had to assure people of Spanish and Italian cities, of Paris, of Geneva, of Stockholm--everyone, really, that not all Americans believed that the United Nations itself was a threat to our national security.
I am sure that many Americans view international opinions filtering through our media as jealous, vengeful perspectives directed toward the supreme world power. But, I assure you, that our life here resembles life in other countries. It is only our belligerence, our single-minded faith in our own supremacy that they lack. Who else in the world claims to know what is better for the world than the world itself?
"The world is a safer place without Saddam Hussein" is a comment I hear regularly, now that I have returned to the States. Yet I wonder: would the world be more safe if the entire Middle East vanished tomorrow morning without a trace, or if the United States was the missing entity?
Don't respond immediately. Think about it. Also, think about whether or not the answer (your honest, G-d fearing, heartfelt answer) was different four years ago. Trust me: I am no lover of John Kerry. I find him politically snobbish, unmotivating, and, yes, I believe he is a wiffle-waffler. He is a political animal. Still, he is a human being, and conscientious one, in his own, limited way. George Bush is not. Or, if he is, then he is a vessel for greedy, economically-invested fat cats, who have no idea why the worlds should hate us as passionately as they do. And make no mistake: they do hate us. Spend ten minutes on any street, anywhere, that carries cars to non-American destinations. Open your mouth; see what happens. And before you snarl, "Who cares what they think? We've got a country to protect!", before you make yourself angry thinking that way, please, think again about whether or not "the world is more safe". Do you feel safe?
Copyright ©2004, ©2005, ©2006 Joshua Suchman. All rights reserved.
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