forgive me,
Thank you,
I love you.
A most disturbing thing happened to me this morning. i listened to Bibi Netinyahu on major network interviews. It struck me deeply that his behavior is only possible with my tax money, and my government's blessing. It happens in my name. It wrenches my gut.
This man repeated again and again that "Israel regrets every civilian casualty." ("Regret," evidently, sounds good but demands no change in one's action.) When confronted with the massacre in Gaza, he said that it was "nothing but Hammas rhetoric." When confronted with appalling pictures of the dead, he said that "Hammas tries to create photogenically dead children for its propaganda." (Yes, those were his words.) He ended by reiterating that everything happening to Palestinians is their fault, and their choice.
I guess the colonial power always expects the natives to submit to the superior culture, even when uprooted from their land and forced to live in crowded concentration camps, like rats in a cage. When they don't submit, but try to resist, the natives must be punished for their own good, like children. It is only beginning to dawn on me how deeply I am enmeshed in the politics of the abuser, because, as a white American male, I have been drenched in the aura of Empire, sailing on a sea of propaganda.
Tonight I cannot begin my meditation without using the native Hawaiian Ho’opnopono's prayer:
I'm sorry,
forgive me,
Thank you,
I love you.
I love you.
No comments:
Post a Comment