Glenn – No Beauty In The Beast – Israel Without Her Mascara

THOSE WHO HUNGER AND THIRST FOR JUSTICE 147Those Who Hungerand Thirst for JusticeI visit him every day on the internet before logging off.His name is Amir Ayyad. He is a Palestinian, and lived his whole life in the Khan Younis refugee camp inthe Gaza Strip. I met him about a year ago, as I, (like many people at the time) found myself in the midstof searching for answers concerning the situation in the Middle East. Exactly what it was that led me intothis search remains unknown up to this point. It would appear that for many of us, there seemed to havecome a breaking point in the aftermath of 9/11, like the snapping of two fingers in front of our eyes,waking us from what seemed to have been a lifelong trance. I, as an individual who had paid littleattention to the whole matter, suddenly in the span of a year’s time had reached a limit with respect towhat was my complacency and gullibility, and in the midst of looking for answers to this riddle, I metAmir.I credit running into him on the internet as being an act of divine providence. Looking back, it can honestlybe said that it was one of those life-changing events that one never seems to forget. I am sure that had Inot run into him, chances are better than not that I would still be trying to sort out all of this business. Inthe days running up to the war, trying to make sense of anything was like playing pin the tail on thedonkey in the middle of an empty field full of shouting madmen. The war machine, which wielded themost terrible propaganda and intimidation campaign in the history of mankind certainly didn’t makethings any easier. With the new laws in place, people were being arrested for asking questions or makingwaves. Those who weren’t arrested ended up losing jobs and friends, as well as becoming the recipientsof anonymous death threats over the internet or over the phone. Spies and snitches on America’s collegecampuses were diligently keeping an eye on anyone, including professors, who dared to exercise theirright of free speech and freedom of thought. “Unpatriotic” individuals maintaining some intellectualindividuality would then find themselves in the clutches of the “proper authorities,” leading to disciplinaryactions of some sort. In the media, all honest discussion surrounding the origins of the Middle Eastconflict were shouted down by individuals who charged their opponents with the unforgivable crime ofbeing anti-Semitic racists for opposing Zionism, yet who themselves interspersed their attacks with theirown racially-laced slurs such as “raghead lover” or “Haji”.And in the midst of this cyclone, I met Amir.For me, his reasoning proved to be the most balanced and sensible. His argument certainly possessed acertain amount of authority, since he had lived in the midst of this conflict his entire life, and saw more ofthe reality encompassing the situation than any of the paid loudmouths on radio or television could everimagine seeing. And although our discourse suffered by virtue of a language barrier, he still managed tomake his point more clearly than anyone I have ever encountered, and continues to do so today. He wasable, using but a few words, to convey entire chapters of comprehension and insight, and brought moretruth to the discussion with just a few arguments than his opponents would attempt to bring in hours ofshouting, snarling, and growling. He has never cursed me for asking questions, even when I playedDevil’s advocate. He has always spoken softly and patiently, never vowing vengeance on his oppressors,even though his entire life has been a testimony to their inhumanity.How he maintained his composure with me was a miracle, since I, like most brainwashed Americans,