Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Why I Am Crying

Tom Fox at an anti-wall demonstration in Palestine

I have just found out that less than a week ago the body of Tom Fox, a human rights activist from Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) was found in a garbage heap in west Baghdad. Tom was kidnapped in Iraq in November 2005 along with three other CPT activists; Harmeet Sooden, Jim Loney and Norman Kember. A previously unknown
group calling themselves the Swords of Righteousness Brigade claimed responsibility for the kidnappings. I did not know Tom, or any of the three other men personally, but both Jim and Harmeet are friends of very close friends of mine, friends who have been hurting and hoping and working hard for their release over the last four months. The work that these four men were doing in Iraq was very similar to the work I myself was doing in Palestine last year, and most of them have also been very involved with both CPT and the International Solidarity Movement in the olive fields, villages, camps and cities of Palestine.

The peoples of Palestine and Iraq, trapped by violent and oppressive foreign occupations and by misguided and weak leadership continue to struggle daily for their lives, their freedoms and for their basic human rights. Theirs is a seemingly hopeless situation, as everything around them is torn apart again and again and as violence and death becomes synonymous with living. But it is men like Tom who do bring hope to individuals and to communities, who do work hard to foster and build and promote this hope, who do see a future without bloodshed. Tom and the other three activists acted through their opposition to occupation, through their commitment to non-violence and through their faith in love, and have helped pave the path, in whatever small way they could, towards a better future.

We anxiously wait in hope for the safe release of Jim, Norman and Harmeet, and send our prayers and thoughts to their friends and family, as well as, of course, to those who knew and loved Tom. Please, too, join the voices of activists and human rights workers worldwide on behalf of those who suffer, be it under occupation or by one's own government. It is only through hopefully one day bringing freedom and peace to others that we ourselves will find solace and relief.

Here is an excerpt from a piece, entitled "Why Are We Here?", written by Tom the day before he was kidnapped:

It seems as if the first step down the road to violence is taken when I dehumanize a person. That violence might stay within my thoughts or find its way into the outer world and become expressed verbally, psychologically, structurally or physically. As soon as I rob a fellow human being of his or her humanity by sticking a dehumanizing label on them, I begin the process that can have, as an end result, torture, injury and death.

"Why are we here?" We are here to root out all aspects of dehumanization that exists within us. We are here to stand with those being dehumanized by oppressors and stand firm against that dehumanization. We are here to stop people, including ourselves, from dehumanizing any of God's children, no matter how much they dehumanize their own souls.

Tom kept a blog which can be read here: http://waitinginthelight.blogspot.com/
Please, please consider reading it.

Christian Peacemaker Teams: http://www.cpt.org
Electronic Iraq: http://www.electroniciraq.net





Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Nay, Tis Not Death.

Oh, boy: Life is so still.

Regardless, recently:

  • The closest thing I have had to a friendship group of late has effectively exploded in a blinding flash, and littered the surrounding countryside with splinters of flesh. Resultingly, I foresee many nights of housebound solo fun. From my little bright box in suburbia I plan to, over the coming weeks, watch the entire back catalogue of Spike Lee, drink much Passiona and read Vollmann until my brain buckles.
  • With the kids at work I am making an Afterschool Care version of Monopoly, which will involve buying such things as "the toilet", "the tree house", "the trampoline" and "the computer room", on which you may, if wily enough, build cubbys on to attract more money from other players. In Jail will be "Wash The Dishes" and the utilities will be the leaf blower and the toasted sandwich maker. Chance cards will involve different afternoon tea scenarios. My main co-creators are the brother and sister duo Radomir (Asturius Cobryn-Koletti) and Jadviga (Asturia Hepatia Cobryn-Koletti) who have this way of referring to their favourite play leaders which is to call them their "local". I am (hopefully still) Radomir's local playleader, but Jadviga only allows female playleaders into her circle of locals. Both of them have tubby red cheeks and awesome glints in their eyes.
  • I have been reading the Robert Fisk book and would like to declare Israel's policy of helping supply Iran with arms during the Iran-Iraq war to be one of the most unbelieveably strange concepts I've come across in a while, one which I am completely struggling to get my head around.
  • I visited Keith and Lottie and bought a shirt with the owl and the pussycat on it, along with some strange ghosty men playing horn instruments. It's my new favourite thing to wear except for my kefiyah, which is my really real favourite thing to wear.
  • There are about six people at the moment that I like spending time around specifically because I find them attractive and hope they feel the same, or similar, about me. I have no desire, on the other hand, to engage in serious relations with any of them. It's a strange feeling, making me feel filled with wonderful strength, but also sort of hopelessly pointless.
  • I'm still mostly listening to the Hold Steady every time I drive, except for when I listen to a Spanish phrase-learning cd which has great music between the lessons that sounds like the most awesome parts of Calexico. I'm up to "Lesson Three - Still at the Hotel".
  • Events at Rottnest island last weekend: (1) someone stole our crayfish, from right outta the pots, (2) The covers band at the pub played Khe Sahn and the night was so windless we could hear it right over the other side of Thompson's Bay while we played Carcassonne on the back table and out the front the green was swarmed with the black silhouettes of quokkas, collecting their like a ghostly militia, (3) we bumped into jazz guitarist Pat Methany on a secluded beach.
  • I am thinking I may need to change a couple of things about my life as soon as is possible.
Oh and for the information of all non-Australians, a pictoral glossary:

QUOKKA


PASSIONA


CUBBY


CARCASSONNE
(this has nothing to do with Australia)

CRAYFISH


KHE SAHN