Silent No More

Silent No More
by Rob Hightower

Silence.  It can speak volumes.  And on Thanksgiving, things were remarkably silent. 

The President stated that he his advisors were following the situation in Mumbai “very closely.” The President-elect issued a statement:

“President-Elect Obama strongly condemns today's terrorist attacks in Mumbai, and his thoughts and prayers are with the victims, their families, and the people of India. These coordinated attacks on innocent civilians demonstrate the grave and urgent threat of terrorism. The United States must continue to strengthen our partnerships with India and nations around the world to root out and destroy terrorist networks. We stand with the people of India, whose democracy will prove far more resilient than the hateful ideology that led to these attacks.”

The leaders in India made their situation known.  They knew very little about who might have caused this.  It could have been Al Qaeda—or a Pakistani connection. They just didn’t know.

I don’t know what they all were trying to say, but I know what the result was.  Silence.

But what is the cost of this silence?  There are more people who are silenced tonight.  But they have no voice with which to speak.

There is a young child tonight, hopefully sleeping soundly.  A young, Jewish toddler by the name of Moshe was the son of two dedicated young Jews.  He was living in Mumbai with his parents, Gavriel and Rivka.  Gavriel was born in Israel. His family moved to the United States when he was nine.  He became a rabbi, married, and moved to Mumbai in 2003.  They ran a synagogue and devoted their lives to the Jewish population in the area.  They provided religious instruction, counseled those addicted to drugs, and fought against poverty. They were a young, vivacious couple. A few days ago—terrorists attacked their Center.

Then, a half of a day after terrorists struck that Center, Sandra Samuel heard something.  Samuel was a cook at the facility.  She heard a toddler screaming.  She ran into the room and grabbed him. His pants were soaked with blood. Samuel remembered four people lying dead. She fled with the toddler—Moshe. 

Moshe was not silent.  But Moshe’s parents were silenced, it was confirmed today.  The two were killed in the terrorist attack. Gavriel was 29, Rivka was 28. Saturday, November 29, 2008 will be Moshe’s birthday.  He will spend it alone, without his mom and his dad.

So I ask the question—how long can we remain silent?  Eight years since September 11^th, 13 years since the World Trade Center bombings, and 25 years since the Beirut attacks, how do we still stay silent? 

This past election has diverted our attention. Voters focused on the economy and Wall Street.  September 11^th was a memory to most. The war in Iraq was more or less on track; Afghanistan not far behind.  But what most Americans fail to remember—we’ve been fighting this war since the hostages were taken in Iran in the late ‘70s.  And what have we done for 30-some odd years? We “condemn” the attacks, we launch “mini-wars”, and “monitor the situation.” 

The test has arrived for our new President.  And we must hope that he will rise to this occasion.  Jews, Americans, British citizens were targeted by these terrorists.  We cannot remain silent.  Gavriel and Rivka shouldn’t have died.  Moshe should not have to grow up with merely stories and photos of his parents. 

We must remember that freedom and this country are an idea. Democracy is a privilege and we must fight for it—as we have for 232 years.  We must stop “condemning” and start acting.  The American people will understand—but first they must have a leader who is willing to tell them the hard truth—which is this, in three basic points:

1. Attacks on westerners are attacks on the West—nothing more, nothing less.  We take each attack on one of them as an attack on all.
2. Attacks on religious freedom are an attack on democracy.  Without the right to choose our faith, we lose our rights as people.  We must stand for not only religious freedom here, but also everywhere.
3. Terrorism may be a fight for our lifetime. This is not a war against a nation, with flags and leaders. It is a day-to-day struggle, against people who are willing to blow up themselves and their children to kill Americans, Brits, and Israelis.  We must understand this, prepare for it, and stand up to those who commit these horrors.

We have accomplished much in America.  Over 140 years since the end of the Civil War, we elected an African-American President.  In the late 1940s, just a few years after the horrors of the Holocaust, we took the lead in recognizing the state of Israel. 

But, like a great man’s not so long ago, there is a new dream in America.  I dream of a day where Islamic extremism is at an end. I dream of a world where little boys like little Moshe grow up without ever having to be rescued while covered in the blood of those who did nothing wrong.  I know that I may not reach that Promised Land—but someday, with courage and determination, the democratic people of this world will get there.

 

Rob Hightower is the Editor and co-founder of Red Voices.  He currently serves as a Deputy District Attorney, where he is assigned to prosecute sexual offenders and child abusers. He previously served as a Legislative Aid for two Members of the California State Assembly.  In 2008, he served as the Inland Empire Regional Chair for the McCain/Palin 2008 presidential ticket.  He grew up and still lives in Riverside County.  He can be reached via e-mail at rhlaw2006@hotmail.com.