netWMD - Do You Love Your Freedom?

I saw a friend of mine today who is a Lebanese-American. We'll call him Antoine. Of course, we ended up discussing the tumultuous events taking place over the last couple of weeks in the land he grew up in. His house was close enough to the blast which killed former PM Rafiq Hariri to have the windows blown in and the front blown off. I asked him if he was glad to now see the Lebanese people staging massive anti-Syria protests, accompanied by international pressure on Syria to end its nearly 30 year-long occupation of their nation. He replied that it is twenty years too late, but yes, he is glad to see it. After all, Lebanon was the first democratic state in the area. With its diverse population, European influence, entrepreneurial spirit, and educated population, Lebanon became a modern, progressive state in an area that, outside of Israel, is culturally backward and politically stagnant. Lebanon was the first state to make peace with Israel—a peace which was ruined, in large part, by Syrian meddling.

Antoine is a great guy, and a great American. He's been living here since his early twenties. He's a doctor, a polyglot (he speaks Arabic, French, and English with equal fluency), and I'm pretty sure he appreciates the freedom so many other immigrants have discovered before him. He's told me about what it was like being a teenager in Beirut trying to get across town through endless checkpoints manned by Shi'a terrorists, Salafi mujahideen, the PLO, and many others. You didn't know if you would live or die, being wholly at the mercy of these violent men. Can you imagine that? I can't. He watched his neighborhood change from a quiet, pleasant place into a hostile, deadly environment where he was discriminated against because of his religion and his family name. He watched Lebanon descend from relative peace and modernity into lawless violence and chaos. He's seen terrible things that no one should have to see.

He somehow made it through this madness that I can't really relate to, and he is a testament to the power of freedom, faith in God, and man's indomitable spirit when he strives for what is good. He also puts a plain human face on the chaotic turmoil that is the reality of daily life for the people of the Middle East. When you get to know someone from this culture—someone with whom you have much in common, as it turns out&,dash;you can dispense with the preconceptions of the in-group/out-group dichotomy so common to all of us. I told him once that my impression of him—with his striking command of English, his neat haircut, and Western outlook—doesn't square with that image of the Middle East with its wild disarray in the streets and the unending struggle to keep body and soul together. And here we come to the pith of what I'd like to discuss: freedom, and the right of every human being to enjoy its undeniable beneficence. Antoine is proof positive that the awesome qualities of liberty, as exemplified in Western liberal democracy, are transferable across cultures and ethnicities. That is to say, we are all the same inasmuch as we can all learn to effect a civil, flourishing coexistence in which we can be good to each other, despite our differences. If we choose freedom.

Driving home today, I imagined a young Antoine nervously rocking from one foot to the other while arrogant thugs with kaffiyehs covering their faces and Kalashnikovs slung over their shoulders sneered at him from behind the I.D. papers they'd taken from him. I tried to picture being a teenager and not knowing if I'd make it home from school or if I might die in the middle of a firefight as I was going to buy bread. I tried to imagine how I would get through the day worrying that my mother or father would be hit with an errant artillery shell. It is so difficult for me to envision these enormous hardships that my friend had to go through every day—as a teenager! I never had to face such formidable challenges because I've always lived in a nation with a robust democracy. Once again I am reminded of the tremendous power of freedom and the responsibility of free people to try to work toward bringing it to our brethren who live in fear each interminable day of their lives.

I've lived in South Boston on the east coast and in the Tenderloin District of San Francisco on the west coast—not the most hospitable of neighborhoods, to be sure. I've seen some crazy things in my time, and some of them have changed me. I've never had the front of my house torn off by high explosives, though. I've never felt that a cop or two were too far away to assist me in case I needed their help. I've never been persecuted because of my religion, shot at because of my political affiliations, watched a family member die in a terrorist attack, or feared falling into the clutches of the ruthless men working in the service of a totalitarian regime. I'm free. I've always been free, and for the vast majority of my life, I've always felt safe here in America. Why shouldn't I? I live in the apotheosis of a free and just society. My rights and liberties are protected vigilantly, and while I may disagree with my fellow citizens about politics, or anything else, we don't kill each other over it. This is because we live in a free, open, pluralistic, fair, and lawful society. I love it. I love living here, and I love my freedom. Do you? I think everyone should be able to know how this feels. I think too many of us take our freedom for granted. Our best men have died, and continue to die, for it and I appreciate every drop of their noble blood shed in the cause of American freedom.

So many of our brothers and sisters all over the world—people of every color, creed, and ethnicity—live and die under the tyranny of fear societies, as we live out the days of our long lives in relative peace, prosperity, and liberty. That's not right! In Cuba, the intellectuals are locked away for dissent; in Pakistan, a mother must instruct her son to murder her daughter to uphold the family's "honor"; in Myanmar, democratic reformers are held indefinitely in "protective custody"; in North Korea, the children must starve to death so that the glorious leader's bloated arsenal can grow; in Iran, a college kid is imprisoned and tortured for keeping an online web log that contravenes the shari'ah in some way... In all these places, and more, people like Antoine, or me, or you—people with hopes, fears, and dreams—are languishing away while so many of us in free societies don't give them a passing thought. Heaven forfend some pessimistic creeps in academia or the media condemn our arrogance for trying to be the world's police or some other banal modern cliche.

So, when an American president like George W. Bush comes along, espousing the good political sense and the simple morality of trying to spread democracy, he is disdained as an arrogant cowboy by his hateful American detractors and by spiteful naysayers in foreign democratic states. Because of petty partisanship, many are willing to ignore the horrible lack of freedom elsewhere, as they take advantage of their own freedom to denigrate a leader they disagree with on various political matters. I personally find this sickening. I'm not a Republican or a Democrat, but any leader who makes the expansion of freedom an important point of policy—a priority—will earn my respect and loyalty. These embittered, defeatist people who reflexively condemn anything that comes from the Bush administration not only display a callous disregard for our fellow brethren living in fear societies, but they also ignore the prospects of a safer world through the spread of democracy (the violence and chaos of the totalitarian state/ideology inevitably spill over into the rest of the world). In addition, they forsake the great gift of our precious freedom and its attendant responsibilities. But, part of living in a free society is calling such negative, petulant people ones compatriots. As flawed as democracy may be, there is still room enough for all of us.

After my discussion with Antoine today I found myself feeling grateful, not for the first time, that he made it out of such an awful situation. He's just a really nice guy, and he deserves the success and happiness he's worked so hard for here in America. So do his countrymen back in Lebanon. I also found myself feeling proud to be part of something much bigger than myself—something good and just and right. I don't give the liberty to people like Antoine who persevere against all odds to attain its privileges, which so many of us take for granted. I just appreciate it and I support its continued growth wherever and whenever possible. It's not about right and left, it's about right and wrong. It's right to help your fellow man if you can, and it's wrong to ignore his suffering when you are able to do something about it. We can push our representative government to reach out to the miserable and to curtail our dealings with the tyrants who cause that misery. These people can't do it on their own. I believe it's right to help them out—in any small way—until they can help themselves. We shouldn't fear failure, we should fear how history will look upon those who stood by and watched the helpless in their hour of need.

Do you love your freedom? Do you love peace? Do you care about your twin on the other side of the world who may be dying this very moment in a desperate last grasp at liberty? There but for fortune go you.

Do You Love Your Freedom? Patrick D. O'Brien, February 25, 2005	Home Search Forum Terms