As a nation, we could use a big dose of forgiveness as an antidote for the injuries we have dealt one another during the recent political battles.
As much as anyone, I have resorted to vile words and thoughts aimed at far-righters in general and those stinkers in the White House specifically. I mean, really, the whole lot of them, I thought, were myopically unamerican and anti-democratic, choosing political muscle over decency, opting for lies and deceit rather than honesty. And many diehard ultra-conservatives must have come to similar conclusions about all of us who stood on this side of the divide. Name-calling and threats escalated at one point to murderous magnitudes. News of stabbings and shootings became commonplace. People on both sides of the street armed themselves and marched around with AR-15 style weapons draped across their chests screaming “fuck you” at their adversaries. Voices from the extreme ends of the political spectrum shamefully called for their enemies to be arrested, jailed, drawn and quartered, brought before a firing squad, or “taken out” one way or another. Others called for secession because, well, because how can we live together in a country so irrevocably disunited?
What we are experiencing now comes as a corollary to the aftermath of the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror when Robespierre, a lefty by today’s standards, took charge by cutting off the heads of thousands of people, those whom he didn’t much care for, those opposed to his “Republic of Virtue.” Some virtue, huh? My virtue is better than your virtue. So there! What finally was Monsieur Robespierre’s reward for cleansing society, for sorting out the ones who accepted his authority from the ones who did not accept autocratic rule? Well, as it happened, the counter-revolutionaries cut off his head, of course. Plop! Into the bucket goes Robespierre’s head. That’s how these things work. Once a body starts cutting off heads surely that selfsame body will lose his or her head as well.
I should have applied that historical lesson after the Charleston church massacre of nine people in June of 2015. From those killings emerged a meme that spread across the country like a radio signal beamed from a satellite: “Hate Won’t Win.” Those words came from the mouth of Alana Simmons, granddaughter of Rev. Daniel Simmons. He was one of the victims slain at the hands of Dylann Roof during a Bible study at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church.
At the bond hearing for the accused, Alana surprised herself when she told the alleged murderer that her grandfather dedicated his life to love. Though the victims were killed because Roof wanted to start a race war and had harbored hatred for African Americans, Alana declared, without forethought, that hate won’t win. Her conclusion might not be aligned with the news we confront each day, but it speaks to default New Testament tenets of forgiveness and expiation. The power of forgiveness is strong medicine. “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong,” asserted Mahatma Gandhi, and who could disagree with the loin-clothed man who changed the world by non-violently protesting against colonial rule?
That good news brings us to a new surge in hatred and intolerance fostered by the recent political climate in America. As we attempt to heal after the disasters that pummeled us during 2020, one wonders just how long it will take for wounds to mend. Hold on. What if no healing takes place at all? The damage does seem deep and, like a festering infection, may take extra doctoring to stop it from becoming septic.
People who should know better are continuing war whoops and underscoring recriminations as the aftermath of the 2020 elections. Hate won’t win! Or will it? Lately, hatemongers appear to have a noticeable lead over the those who tout forgiveness and healing.
But it is always close race, and over the whole course of history it always has been—back and forth. There is no finish line. What matters is that each of us may decide which response to bet on: Love or Hate.