But keep your enemies closer

In all the rhetoric coming out of the Bush Administration this week in their attempt to convince Congress and the American people that a military "surge" is the right strategy for "success" in Iraq, did you all notice the list of demands that Condaleeza Rice insisted be met in order for her to meet with her Iranian counterpart? It is, says the Bush Administration, Iran and its described "colony", Syria, that are supplying the insurgents and stoking the fires of the Shiites in Iraq. Either the Iranians basically lay down, roll over and play dead, or we are not going to have anything to do with them. Otherwise, says Rice, we would be like "supplicants".

Of course, we are in this position, because the Bush government has made such a point of not talking to the Iranians through out the deteriorating situation in the Middle East that it may indeed look like only desperation would drive us to the table. But that is just one more blunder to add to the growing Bush blunders in the region. In fact, it was a die-hard Republican, Senator Hagel, not some raging liberal Democrat, who called the administration's handling of the war in Iraq the "nation's biggest blunder since Vietnam". I would argue that this is a bigger blunder, seeing as we had a chance to learn from Vietnam, but didn't. But that's neither here nor there. The issue is, we need to talk to Iran.

We need to talk to Iran. We need to talk to Syria. We need to talk to quite a number of world leaders that we find distasteful, because you know what? They talk to each other. Take for instance the extremist thorn in our side, Hugo Chavez of Venezuela, recently sworn in for his third term as president of one of our principal oil suppliers. This week he announced his plans to nationalize CANTV, the nation's largest telecommunications corporation (of which Verizon has a large interest), as well as Electricidad de Caracas and various energy projects, in which numerous U.S. oil companies have a stake. Sure he called President Bush the devil in a speech at the U.N. Sure he has Fidel Castro on speed dial, but guess who's currently visiting with him? No other than Mahomoud Ahmadinejad, President of Iran.

From Venezuela, the Iranian president is off to meet with some of our other neighbors, in Nicaragua and Ecuador, both of which have recently elected governments not particularly friendly to the United States. And Chavez has his hands in everything. Recently, two dozen uniformed members of Venezuela's military showed up in Bolivia, much to the chagrin of President Morales' opponents, as the Congress was not consulted prior to the arrival. Violence has erupted this week in that country and more unrest is feared, as Morales encourages large numbers of highland peasants to move to the eastern portion of the country diluting opposition support in the area, which is the center of his opposition.

If the situation in the Middle East is critical to our national security, then surely the situation in our own hemisphere is, as well. And now, linked by oil and mutual dislike of the "American Devil", alliances are forming between the two. But we wouldn't want to look like "supplicants". Of course, saving face is more important than developing a relationship that may give us insight into an enemy. At least that is what the Bush administration would have us believe.

We talked to the Soviet Union. We talked to China. We didn't talk to Cuba. The Soviet Union fell apart. China supplies Wal-Mart. Cuba is Cuba. So much for the poor, deprived masses rising up at the first sign of weakness from its aging President. We had no clue what to expect. Castro's been bed-ridden for months and all goes on as usual on the island. We don't know if he is dying. We don't know much of anything. Why? We don't talk to Cuba.

Sun-Tzu, the famous Chinese Military General and author of "The Art of War" is credited with the saying, "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer". I personally think he had something there. It might be cool to hang out for some fish and chips in a pub with the Brits, but I don't think it is nearly as important as having some tea with Iranians. Cuba is a small island, whose most famous and dangerous export is the cigar. Ever since the Soviet Union pulled the plug on its nuclear missile program there, we haven't had much to fear from the island but for illegal second-hand smoke.

Iran exports, arms, money, terrorists and oil. It also exports dialogue with unfriendly governments in our hemisphere, including one of our biggest sources of, yes, oil. And now, we have Venezuela itself exporting military advisers to additional neighbors. Do you see what I see? Maybe "supplicants" isn't too far from the truth.

Not running away to nowhere

Something crazy happened to me last night. I listened to myself yell at my husband, and it scared me. It was terrifying, because I don't know where the voice came from. I mean, I couldn't hear my voice inside my head and it didn't sound like my usual voice. I know that I was crying, but that was not enough to distort my voice into this screeching, screaming, blood curdling, wounded animal kind of primordial shriek that rushed to the surface from some hidden depth and defended me. I know that this stream of sound, that these words were coming from inside of my body but I heard them as though I was not the one uttering them.

And I say that they defended me, because my I saw my husband recoil from them in a way that he had never recoiled from me. I might have been pathetic and unattractive when I have fallen into a real slobbering, catching my breath, please hear me, because you don't really seem to hear me when I speak to you in a regular way kind of cry, but I never saw him recoil, as though rather than annoyed or angry that he had to deal with me and I couldn't just be agreeable and make his life easy all the time and oh shit, there she goes again--no he looked horrified. He looked like he was looking at something or maybe hearing something, like I was, that meant more business than I had ever meant in my life.

This voice was not sad. It was not hurt. It was not frustrated and tired, though it left me and my body exhausted. This voice was angry. It didn't want understanding or support or love or affection or someone to believe in it and to share its life like what I always seem to end up crying about. The voice that answered my husband's angry "get up" as I sobbed on the floor because my actions, sacrifices, words, love or whatever had not been enough again, told him to, I believe it was something to the effect of "Shut the fuck up." and "Don't ever talk to me like that again when I am upset". But it wasn't hurt and desperate. The voice had authority to it. The voice wasn't going to take it anymore. The voice said "me", but it wasn't a "me" that I recognized.

This "me", this voice, was desperate, but not in a way that I had ever been. This me was not running away to nowhere and finding a way to cope and make due. This me was not running in circles trying to be okay and carry on. This me was a wild animal that had been suddenly wounded, caught off guard, and it was cornered, but it would not lie down and be eaten. It could not crawl off and lick its wounds again. This me lept out of that corner with its claws primed and screamed out a warning so desperately strong that the hunter and the prey switched places. This voice,that came from inside of me, was not someone to be underestimated, pushed around, kept waiting or placated. It was a voice to be feared.

God knows I feared it. And from the look on my husband's face, he feared it. I certainly don't want to become whatever it was. But I would like to harness it, if wild animals can ever be harnessed, and learn its energy and its fight and determination.

I want to write. I want to start my own business. I want to have people read my words and I want them to change and to make the world better. I don't want to terrify anyone, but I want them to know that I have a voice to be heard and to be paid attention to--not because they feel sorry for me, but because I have something valuable to say. And I want to say what I think needs to be said, not what someone thinks is okay for me to say or what is next in the Spanish curriculum for my classroom or what nice girls say. I want to say what I think needs to be said.

That is what this "me" said last night. It said I was hurting, that I didn't want to hurt and that addressing a person in pain with anger was wrong. And it is wrong. But I think now that I don't have to be that person in pain. Now I have that voice that defended me. I have that that voice that sprung into action and protected me.

At that moment I think I split in two. The exhaustion I felt must have come from giving birth to that voice. From deep inside me it burst out and its first birth cries saved me. With God beside me, I won't have to run away to nowhere ever again. I will speak.

Goodbye, Mr. President. You were a good guy.

If there is anything we can take away from the state funeral of President Ford, it is that he was a good guy. He was brave; he was kind; he was sincere, open, self-deprecating but confident. He was what most of us wish our children could grow up to be. He never wanted to be president. He wanted to serve his county. He seemed to have raised his kids the same way he conducted his short, unlikely presidency. He wanted to send children into the world who would leave it better off then it had been before. In unusual and very sincere bi-partisanship, since his death last week, those with whom he had served in Congress, lived in his neighborhood, attended his church, served in his cabinet or played golf agreed he had left the country better off than it had been when he assumed the highest office in the land.

This mid-westerner, who the first President Bush described as walking out of a Norman Rockwell painting, married a strong, independent divorcee, who he loved through thick and thin during their 58 year union. Whether speaking out on her breast cancer or her struggle with addiction to prescription pills, he did not try silence his Betty, but respected her candor. Together they raised four children, at least two of whom stood this weekend by the coffin of their father in the rotunda of the U.S. Capital Building to greet and thank the common citizens who had stood hours in line to pay their last respects to our 38th president.

He pardoned his predecessor, President Nixon, choosing national reconciliation over his own political future. How often do we see these sacrifices today? How often do we see reconciliation today in politics, at all?

As we gear up for our new Congressional term, as Nancy Pelosi and her Democrats take to the floor of the House, let us hope that her Democrats are our Democrats--our servants. Let them serve the whole country. Let them be open and honest. Let them reach out across the aisle and up Pennsylvania Avenue. Let them take some inspiration from this great Republican. Let us all.

Goodbye, Mr. President. You were a good guy. You are a good example. May your lessons be learned well and practiced often. May you look down on us always and be pleased.

Welcome to 2007

Its a new year and that brings the hope and promise of what is to come. I am excited for 2007, as I kicked it off in a very happy, friendly environment with a husband I love and new friends with positive outlooks. In only a few short weeks, the new Congress will kick off a session with our first woman speaker of the house, Nancy Pelosi, a Democrat originally from my home state of Maryland, though she is elected out of a district in California. Maybe her duel coast roots and the democratic (small "d") spirit will start to unite our country rather than divide it into cynical political factions. Internationally, the islamists are on the run in Somalia. We hope it stays that way.

Of course, there is sadness, too, and reason for worry. As it has for too long, Iraq looms large. The new year was marked by the 3000th death of U.S. military personnel in the Iraq war. More than 3700 civilians also died in just the last month of the sectarian conflict. Saddam was finally put to death, but in a most undignified, ruthless and sectarian way, that we must pray does not further escalate the divide between Shiite and Sunni Muslims in that war-torn nation. It was not the most auspicious beginning to "democratic" justice we could have hoped for. But the tyrant is dead and his shadow will hopefully loom less and less large with the passage of time.

I myself greet 2007 with a peaceful, hopeful heart. I will continue to highlight the issues that I feel need our attention and compassion, but I will try to do it always with a spirit of helpfulness and I will count my blessings, showing thanks for all the good, happiness and comfort I have in this world--remembering always, that there but for the grace of God go I.

Happy New Year!