A Post to Paris

Jihadists are now celebrating under the hashtag Paris is burning. They watch the western world with anxious eyes, hopeful eyes, expectant of a certain final victory. They expect the world to crumble into chaos and that they, those who support what has happened in Paris, will be the torchbearers of a new world order—one in which power is law and guns are power. That cold, calculating and unsympathetic destruction, such as that used in the Paris attacks on November 13th, will be the go-to form of control and will lead to the defeat of the western world.


The jihadists are right in one respect. Paris does burn. The world burns. Our hearts burn for the innocents who will never see their dreams realized, for the parents who will never again see their children. For friends and relatives who must now grapple and overcome unexplainable loss. The world can never again look into the eyes of those killed in Paris. We can no longer touch them, or feel their proximity. They, who were and still are so deeply loved, live on in our hearts and our collective memory.


The world does not forget. History does not forget. The world burns in anger at injustice, at blatant disrespect for life, at the lost life of innocents. Jihadists, what are your grievances? You have stated none. You must state grievances. You have stated the annihilation of others. That is not a grievance. That is genocide. Murder.


We must lift our heads above the actions of monsters and see past the warped ideologies fueled by the power madness to destroy. So easy it is to destroy lives, to pass a bright future into shadow. The destruction carried out by monsters may cause fear. We may feel the angry thoughts, the desire for vengeance and retaliation, the burning for justice to strike a galvanizing blow against the revolting cruelty of those who cannot look another in the eye and see them as human. Those who hold no reserve in pulling the trigger and watching the blood run and feeling the power. How severely misguiding an ideology that praises the deaths of innocents, to believe you will somehow be immortalized for such actions.


The ancient epics praise heroes for their valor in battle, for their strength and courage, and for “the beautiful death.” Valor and courage in war was, and still is, guilded in heroism. Heroes are built in battle. Not just in war but in all battles of life. Heroes recognize the need for justice, respect for the opponent, and the necessity to push through the darkest, most trying moments. There are many heroes in Paris today. Terrorists are not among these, nor will history ever speak of them as such.


While many may take issue with certain aspects of history, of its sometimes biased interpretations of past events and narratives, history does tend to do a good job of remembering people as they are. Heroes tend to be remembered as heroes. Cowards as cowards, monsters as monsters. The premeditated killing of innocents is a terrorist act. It is a cowardly act. It is an act carried out by monsters. There is no fame or heroism in such action. There is no redemption for such acts, no “beautiful death.”


It is a common saying that history is written by the victors. Let it be known that the victors are the people of Paris. The world will celebrate victory by upholding human principles and respect for life and human dignity. We are human. We are resilient. We move forward together.


It is easy to feel angry and wish vengeance against those who committed the attacks in Paris. I burned and raged in my heart. I wished to beat and batter those responsible for the attacks. I wished to see them prostrate in pools of their own blood, begging for mercy. Where was the mercy when you killed in cold blood? I would ask.


I still, to a certain degree, wish these things. But I am human, and I see that the terrorists were once human too. I see that they had eyes like you and I. That they could see and hear and touch and feel. Perhaps their conscience had long since vanished, but in physical terms I see that at one point they were human. They were once children who knew what love and fun and happiness were. At least until their lives veered onto this terrible path. Once children, now become monsters.


But I am human. I affirm and reaffirm this point. In fact this is the most important point of all. I see all too clearly the anger I feel inside. Anger: one of the most common human emotions. Rage, bitterness, frustration, hate. All strong emotions, all strong enough to kill. But as a human being I find ways to work through such emotions. I separate them out and observe them for what they are—symptoms of a problem the root cause of which can be found only within myself.


We must be careful in moving forward. We must respect the dead. We must honor the heroes. We must care for the suffering hearts, for those whose emotions burn with fury. We must recognize that unlike the terrorists, we, the true people of the world, are human. We do not act as monsters. It is urgent for the world that we uphold our humanity, our values, our principles. It is urgent that we love and extend our arms in support. We are human and as such we lift each other up. We will continue to fight for justice and the integrity of human life.


This is my attempt to come to grips with the devastating terrorist attacks that took place in and around Paris on the evening of November 13^th, 2015. Today I mourn with the world the unnecessary loss of so much precious life.

Que dios los bendiga...