Cosmopolite

Not so long ago some ancient bones were found. With them came some unexpected things. If we consider carefully those old bones and their unusual companions, we may be able to look into the far darkness of long long ago, and consider once again our basic view of human life.

This story begins with a mountain rage worn low with age. Mount Carmel is the name it carries into our day. It has lived as a sacred place of gods since before the dawn. Yahweh, Baal, and countless lesser gods have held communion here. Even the Bible speaks of Mount Carmel as the place where Elijah went to preach. It was here he gave the wayward Jews his famous invitation; "If the Lord be god, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him." Mount Carmel is part of Israel today but older.

From the south, this mountain ridge slowly rises from the fertile plane of Sharon. In the north, Carmel wears the river Kishon like a belt. Further north, and somewhat east of here, gleaming in the distant light, the Sea of Galilee awaits the eye. And to the west, this ridge intrudes into the ancient Eastern shore of the Mediterranean Sea. On its southern slopes are caves.

Caves are special places; offering shelter ready made for living things; a womb of earth to give birth in; an earthen grave to hold the still forever; a chest of treasure waiting to be unlocked. Long before we modern human beings came to be, this place was home to other upright walkers. Cro-Magnon we know lived here; Neanderthal before that.

This place was a bridge in the evolutionary migration of humankind. Geographically, Carmel served as a passage from the fertile Kmt black land of the valley Nile, to the cool and green forests of the north. More critically for us, this place was the intellectual cradle of modern man. The place where proto-man meets modern man. Today, Carmel stands rich with ancient bones.

Now and for a hundred years before, these caves, and those bones, have wooed the scientifically minded. When excavators dug down here, they found the skeleton of a Neanderthal; the bones of one who walked upon these slopes 50,000 years ago and died. Using the finest scientific skill, the diggers removed these sleeping bones from their earthen crib. With clear precision, every detail was recorded, tagged, and saved.

Among the bones, some seeds were found. These tiny seeds filled the digger's minds with fascinating hope. Understanding always grows from simple things, and when conditions happen to be right, understanding can bloom and change the world.

These few seeds tell us more than do the bones. First, they inform us this grave, was a grave. That is a startling fact to consider. This dead creature was not simply dumped into a pit and quickly covered up; which sadly is, more often then not, the fate of Human dead today. The seeds inform us this beast-man's death was mourned; mourned by friends that inhumed him here with loving care. That fact is a difficult for us to accept; it does not fit with what we think we know of such creatures or ourselves. Neanderthals we are sure, were more ape than man; without our big brain and far seeing mind they could only act in the hear and now.

Under close inspection in the laboratory, the seeds reveal their heritage. They are seeds from flowers. Flowers that do not grow on this mountain slope. These seeds are from flowers that are only found stretching to the sunlit sky on hills far away. No doubt remains, these fragile flowers were gathered from those distant fields; picked there by caring hands, and carried to this lonely mountain site with loving hearts. In the darkened den those brightly colored blooms, with their softly scented petals, were gently laid upon the cold and lifeless breast.

Tears we may well assume filled these mourners' eyes. Tears that fell in a final kiss goodbye. And as the earth was slowly pushed upon the frozen face, tears fell to wet this grave with hope. A hope that lying under his blanket of earth, living lifeless like a seed, he waits for life to flower into bloom once more.

Yet, with this final act the tearful knew, their world had dimmed. Their dear friend was gone from them forever. The earth was now his home, eternal stillness his only friend; and they would never look into his shining eyes again, or hear his laughter booming through the air.

Carmel, oh Carmel, keep him well.

The mighty sword of retribution has felled the evil Saddam. Dragged from a hole in the earth he stands before the almighty bar of justice. Elsewhere justice weeps upon the shattered remains of twenty thousand dead, casualties of Operation Iraqi Freedom’s liberating bombs.

Saddam’s dread Mukhabarat is gone. Now, American soldiers smash into Iraqi homes in predawn raids terrifying families in their beds. Now, Americans hold the keys to the feared and hated Abu Ghraib where humiliation, torture and death is now Intelligence gathering.

The warmongers cry peace peace but deliver death. They tout their mighty precision bombs but rely on depravity to win the peace. There refrain has now become, “Isn’t the world better off with Saddam gone?” I say no.

No, it is not better for those who are dead. No, it is not better for those maimed in body and mind. No, it is not better for the thousands of children who now limp limbless through life. No, it is not better for those in fear of night’s eternal rerun of the flaming horror that destroyed all that was dear, leaving them half alive and forever deformed. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, loved ones gone, blown to dust in one searing moment of murderous death. No theirs is not a better world.

Peace and Freedom cannot come through death and destruction. Who is so godly to say who should live and who should die? Who is to select the ones to be deformed by the flames of war?

The warmongers cry, intelligence makes the choice not I. Nameless, faceless intelligence has become the god of war. Amorphous intelligence now guides the hand that launches the deadly bombs of death. To bomb Saddam to dust, fifty intelligence directed attempts produced fifty intelligence failures and 500 innocent died. To kill al-Zarqawi, seven bombing raids upon Fallujah homes chosen by “reliable intelligence” produced seven failures and 70 innocent dead.

The morality of war lets the bombs decide who dies. Those cold and lifeless monsters of death are now the arbiters of life. Thoughtless, random, wanton killing for peace is the new morality of war. And we condemn suicide bombers?

The warmongers’ say there is no moral equivalency between terrorist bombs and the righteous dealers in death that wave the banners of liberty and justice for all. They say the terrorist aims to kill the innocent but the righteous aim to kill the evil. But, I say, a bomb is the end to all that is good when it rips innocent life asunder regardless from whose hand it came. To kill the child to kill the father is wrong. There is no bomb smart enough to do that. There is no precision to warfare. To send flaming death upon a city, a town, a village, a home to end one evil man is madness bred in the ignorant hubris of a debauched commander.

The warmongers proudly boast of their modern hi-tech strategy of “Shock and Awe.” They want us to think it is the military equivalent of a hospital’s surgical operation. But, these doctors of death dismiss the innocent people they kill and mane as mere “collateral damage” unworthy of even a body count. And when the smoke and dust has cleared form the gaping blood soaked crater that once was a home, with real living human beings that had hopes and joys and tears and life, the warmongers say, we’re sorry, that’s the costs of war, the price we all must pay to rid the world of evil. Now Allawi has come to town to reconstitute Saddam’s tyranny in the name of democracy. American’s can now sleep in peace knowing their righteous weapons of war have done their job.