WhatÍs on my heart

from Iraq
by Mary BurtonRiseley

Februrary 27, 2003

I need to write whatÍs on my heart these days. The last week IÍve watched myself become clear and then pass through that clarity into a deeper murk, but one rich in the spiritual algae of I hope honest self-examination. I wonÍt be surprised if this proves to be a spiraling pattern of clearness and mud over the next tense period.

I came to Iraq for political and ethical reasons as those of you know who have read my intentions statement. I hoped in some small way to atone for what my government has done here, like it or lump it, in my name over the past 13 years through bombing and sanctions. I needed to feel that I had done everything I could to stop the US from making war and worse war here again.

As a believer in non-violence, I also saw that coming here was an extension of its beautiful story. Since my arrests for anti-nuclear weapons direct actions in 1983, IÍve been pondering what makes such actions effective or not. I saw that all the tens of thousands of people who have sat down in roads, crossed over into restricted areas, pounded on warheads with hammers, have made not one small political dent in the continuing illegal and immoral production of these weapons of mass destruction by our country. What was different between these actions and the sit-downs, boycotts and walks of the civil rights movement of the 1960's? Or from GandhiÍs march to the sea to gather salt?

All direct actions carry personal risks of jail time and the possibility of being physically injured by the arresting police or military personnel. ThatÍs one source of their power to make social change. But GandhiÍs actions and those of the civil rights movement also embodied a socially transforming paradox that I believe no one has learned how to apply to nuclear weapons actions. Saying yes at the same time one says no. In a sit-down, one says no loudly and clearly to the Jim Crow laws that dictated which restaurants and where on buses and trains one could sit. But one also says yes, all people have a right to sit where they choose. Same with the salt march: no, this law is wrong and I am going to break it, and yes, everyone has the right to make oneÍs own salt at the seaside.

I was attracted to Voices in the WildernessÍs presence in Iraq because I saw at two levels it embraced paradox. The first level is simple: no, the proscription against travel to Iraq is wrong, and IÍm going to go and offer what compassion I can even though it is illegal; and yes, everyone should have a right to visit this wonderful country. The other level addresses deterrence. WeÍre saying: yes, we do hope our presence here will give pause to those who want to bomb the hell out of Baghdad. But weÍre also saying: no, our lives are no more valuable than those of Iraqi men, women and children; if you bomb them, you bomb us.

About a week ago, leaving the hospital I had a moment of epiphany. I realized that without conscious decision, I was going to stay here, that I did not feel I could leave the people in IPT/CPT IÍd come to respect and love so much; nor did I want to stop offering what comfort and pleasure I could to the Iraqis I encountered at the hospital and in various other venues.

My dear roommate for these three weeks, Sister Virgine Lawinger, goes home to Milwaukee tomorrow. My friend Lynn MacMichael went home last week. Both will hit the ground running, making presentations at churches and clubs and university classes, urging people to take the next step in opposition to war, the step into non-violent direct action, because we believe as youÍve read in the last several dispatches that only a massive pre-emptive sit-down for peace in the US can stop the war now.

These strong women and the other IPT members who have returned home from delegations to Iraq represent what Kathy Kelly calls the ñother wheel of the bicycle,î which keeps the movement against sanctions and war moving forward. IÍve never heard anyone staying here speak disparagingly of those who choose to return.

But maybe it is my Marine Corps inheritance, maybe it is something inherently macho in American culture, whatever it is, I think I did feel a call to the more heroic, life-risking choice to stay here during the war. Perhaps I felt even a little pride that I had faced my fears, at least for now, and was going to be in solidarity with the Iraqi people and stay.

Then my daughter Hannah called me Sunday morning. Her call was the stone that stirred up the muck in my clarity. She said, ïMom, if you were staying for some reason I could understand, I would tell you to stay and risk death. But why does it make sense to choose to die just because somebody else doesnÍt have the choice to live?î

Everyone here is a big fish of sorts in the small ponds of their home towns or states. Here weÍre all small fish in the wider lake of our shared experience and commitment. Hannah said, ñYou have the power to influence so many here, youÍre well-known, especially now after the coverage of your trip published from the e-mails youÍve sent home. You can do more good here than there.î

Then she pulled out the stops. My own mother died when I was pregnant with Hannah 27 years ago. She never knew the first Mary Riseley. She said, ñMom, I want my children to meet you.î

What about the date boat action, you might ask? (I can never remember what IÍve written about and what IÍve talked to people about on the phone! This is the CPT project I would like to join of floating 20,000 pounds of dates down the river into the Gulf to break the sanctions and demonstrate the harmlessness of date exports, which would have greatly helped the Iraqi economy during the sanctions.) We are waiting for permission from a higher level than our minders, and if it comes, I will go. But itÍs just possible they have more urgent matters on their plates right now, and permission may not be forthcoming.

IÍm not ready to come home yet. I want to continue my work at the hospital. I need to focus on getting more photographs, either taking the slides myself or taking advantage of the offers of several fine photographers here to share theirs. I donÍt believe from the news we download from the internet every day that if war comes it would come in the next two weeks. So my current thinking is that lacking movement on the date boat action, I may come home the middle of March and work as hard as I can in New Mexico to prevent it, and to stop it, if the government remains unresponsive to the many demonstrations of mainstream opposition to war. I will definitely go to jail if I find or think of an action that has the elements I outlined above.

Los Angeles votes 9 to 4 against preemptive war, and hundreds of other communities, too. It is such a demonstration of how out of touch Washington and the Republicans are with the real desires and intentions of the people of the United States. IÍve been reminding the Iraqi people I speak with here that less than 25% of the eligible voters of my country voted for Dubya. Scary.

PLEASE CONSIDER STRETCHING YOURSELVES A BIT FURTHER TO STOP THE WAR. A few days in jail or even weeks seems to me from here, from this bustling city of ordinary people trying to make a living and care for their children, a small price to pay to prevent ñshock in aweî with its potentially Armageddon consequences.

Be well.

Page created March 10, 2003 by Charlie Jenks