Sunday, August 17, 2008

That which must be rectified, will.

It has never been characteristic of me to write a long attempt of a verbal opus of my thoughts on a situation and go back to that subject after some time has passed with a semi-admission of regret and reconsideration.

However, I must do this as a response to my writing on the subject of the Armenian/Assyrian/Greek Genocide.

What I saw as ethnocentrism brought out what seemed to be ethnocentrism in me. Whether or not what I witnessed in the Armenians or myself was truly ethnocentrism, remains to be seen.

I have learned that patriotism and passion can be a dangerous mix regardless of how seemingly interchangeable and well-mixed they are generally perceived as being.

Passion is polar and extreme in nature. Patriotism and nationalism need unwavering and steady action, independent of emotions. It takes a person who is somewhat cold and unloving in order to properly defend his family from attackers, only in that way can he kill any armed trespasser who has come onto his property while his wife and children sleep.

Patriotism alone makes a person a defender; a defender of land and family. But when patriotism and passion mix is usually when a murderer is born.

I know I didn’t murder anyone with what I wrote on the genocide of 1915, but I am fully aware that my feelings before, during, and right after my writing it were the same feelings that in someone else may have advanced to full-blown hate. I don’t ever want to have any hate inside of me, especially not as a result of a love for my people. The kind of love that begets hate is not true love.

I know that the Armenians were, and in many cases still, are victims, as are my Assyrians, as are Greeks, and as are many peoples.

Understand that my angry tone I had when I wrote on the genocide was justified to myself by my own belief that it was born of a deep yearning for love and unity between these peoples. I do attest that as true but I still understand that hate stands alone as itself. We cannot give it excuses and try to guess where it came from, or how much it suffered because in the end, hate is hate.

I would much rather harbor love and connection. I would love for one day for these three peoples to band together and speak as one against those that have oppressed them. Yet, I would love even more if they banded together to look forward to their respective futures in hope and light as opposed to dwelling on the past. The past will always be only ashes,


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