STANISLAUS CONNECTIONS
Working For Peace, Justice, and A Sustainable Environment
September, 2002
A Modesto Peace/Life Center Publication
Peace Center News/Peace Pioneers
Important
Peace/Life Center Dates
(see
Calendar for specifics)
Candlelight Peace March,
September 11.
Connections Fundraiser
Potluck Party: Saturday, September 14.
Vigil for Peace in the
Middle East, Saturday, September 28.
Annual Harvest Dinner:
Saturday, October 12.
Peace Essay Contest
deadline for all essays: Friday, December 6.
2003
Peace Essay
By
INDIRA CLARK
“A
peaceful future depends on our everyday acts and gestures.”
— Fredrico Mayor,
Director-General of UNESCO, United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural
Organization
In our society and world,
we see more and more individuals and groups acting out anger and frustration
through verbal, physical, and emotional violence, which hurts or destroys
others. Although conflicts are often resolved in a fair and peaceful manner,
these events seldom make the headlines of the news stories. Learning to resolve
conflict in a way that builds respect between the participants, honors
differences, and opens avenues for reconciliation will be important preparation
for creatively meeting the challenges of the future.
The 17th annual Peace Essay
Contest offers students the opportunity to examine a conflict from their own
lives or the world around them, write a more peaceful and fair ending for all
involved, and describe what the participants would learn to enable them to meet
future conflicts in a more constructive way.
Sponsored by the Modesto
Peace/Life Center, this contest is open to all 5-12 grade students who live or
attend school in Stanislaus County. Deadline
is December 6, 2002.
For a copy of the topics
and rules, see the flyer enclosed in this issue, or contact the P/L Center,
529-5750, or email peaceessay@juno.com
Peace
Essay Contest Committee 2003:
Margaret Barker, Indira Clark, Pam Franklin, Suzanne Meyer, Judy Cochran Pirkle,
Deborah Roberts, Sandy Sample.
Gordon
Nutson
By
MARIANNE VILLALOBOS
When my family moved to
Modesto in 1949, children addressed adults either as Mr. and Mrs. or Aunt and
Uncle. Since we had no relatives in California, my parents’ friends became my
aunts and uncles, prominent among them Uncle Gordon and Aunt Helen (Nutson).
Fifty years later, my children and I still call him Uncle Gordon. Many have
spoken of his efforts to promote peace, justice, and a fair shake for all, and
some have joked of his trademark instances of political incorrectness. Others
recalled his personal influence on their lives, helping them prepare for a
successful career or extending a personal loan and going the extra mile to help
families purchase their first home. I’d like to share some of my memories of
“Uncle Gordon”.
Gordon taught me that the
best way to be a nonconformist in the matters that count is to conform where it
matters less. Gordon, as we know, was a “peacenik” in a suit and tie. He
understood that in dress, as in language, different occasions and venues demand
different approaches. No more would he conduct business in casual clothing than
would he work with his birds (homing pigeons) in a suit. He once told me that
wearing a suit made it much easier to explain to fellow realtors why he stood in
silence while others saluted the flag. His nonconformist message was credible,
he said, precisely because he had already gained respect through his dress and
business practices. He was one of them and could be trusted and believed,
even if they might not always agree with him. Who can say how many people he
might have influenced in this manner?
I think that real estate
was as much a passion to Gordon as was his commitment to peace and justice. He
was one of a small group of conscientious objectors who came to Modesto and
started a successful company on a shoestring. He was highly regarded in the real
estate community as a competent businessman, and his keynote in business was
ethics. Others have mentioned the personal loans he extended them. Rolando [my
husband] and I were among the beneficiaries of such a loan, along with
Gordon’s advice on effective money management. Gordon knew and counseled his
agents that closing the deal was not the primary goal, but rather, making the
sale in an ethical way. Having attended public school in Modesto in the days of
de facto segregation, I also appreciate Gordon’s courageous stance in boldly
refusing to follow the gentlemen’s agreement which maintained segregated
housing.
Many have their funny
stories and fond memories of Gordon, as do I. I will always remember his
clean-shaven cheeks and crisp brown suits as well as his slicked-back red hair
and red bow-tie and elastic arm bands as he led the Barber Shop Quartet. Most of
all, I remember his chuckles and full-bodied laughter when something tickled his
funny bone. And being the jokester that he was, he found many things funny.
Gordon could spin a tale with the best of them; I was never quite sure where
fact ended and hyperbole began. One story he told in recent years had to do with
the time he went to a restaurant with several much younger men on a trip out of
town to see some birds. According to Gordon, the manager of the
restaurant, misunderstanding the situation, called the police, believing that
these Mexicans were kidnapping an old white man.
I remember Gordon’s
passion about anything he said or did. My son Ruben, from the time he was old
enough to talk, was invited to the occasional “business lunch” with my Dad
and Gordon. To this day, he remembers Uncle Gordon’s unique way of punctuating
his points by scribbling bold lines on napkins. Gordon did nothing halfway.
These lunches often ended with pencil-marked napkins scattered about. But he
didn’t just talk; he listened intently. When you talked to Gordon you had his
full attention, and as he pondered your remarks, you knew that what you said
mattered to him.
According to Ruben, Gordon
conveyed this respect to children as well. Ruben never felt that Gordon treated
him like a child, but honored what he had to say as if he were an adult. During
a dinner with the Nutsons when Ruben was four, he went to the living room to
conduct a little experiment with a napkin and matches while the rest of us were
talking. Smelling smoke, we all ran shouting to the living room. After the fire
was out, Uncle Gordon said, “Rolando, let me take care of this.” He then
took our sobbing son into the bedroom for a man-to-man conversation. Ruben
recalls that Uncle Gordon put him on his lap, and told him how happy he was that
Rolando and I were able to buy this house, and how important it was to take care
of it. He had the rare ability to counsel, even admonish a person while at the
same time demonstrating his respect for him.
As we know, Gordon did have
his moments of political incorrectness and it was Tom Hunter who wrote the song
about Gordon’s infamous “cornbread” comment [see “Good-bye” by Indira
Clark, this issue]. And when Tom came to town after writing that song, I’m
sure that I was not alone in wanting to convince him that this was only a small
facet of the man; that there where many other songs to be written about Gordon.
Indira Clark told me recently that after the concert, when Tom needed a ride
back to the Bay Area, Gordon stepped forward to chauffeur him. What I would have
given to be a passenger in that car!
The last time I saw Gordon
before he entered the hospital was at Modesto High School. At first, I did not
recognize him standing outside the office, a tiny old man surrounded by much
larger teenagers. The secretary laughed and told me that Mr. Nutson had come to
school with a question. Gordon told her that the boy who worked for him had
asked for money to rent a tuxedo for the prom. He told the secretary that in his
day, a simple suit would have been good enough. The secretary said she had
then explained to him that boys today rent tuxedos because many do not own
suits. Gordon responded that that was good enough for him; he just needed things
to make sense. I hurried out, pleased to tell some of my students that they were
talking with my Uncle Gordon. Gordon’s conversation with the students
continued until they invited him to lunch. Of course, later that day one of my
students informed me that my uncle had flirted with her.
Consummate businessman,
supporter of peace and justice, musician, above all, my Uncle Gordon was a big
man with a personality painted in Technicolor.
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By
INDIRA CLARK
“Before
Wolverine, Blacks couldn’t buy houses in Modesto.” Those straight spoken
words cut through Gordon Nutson’s memorial service on June 29th.
Wolverine
Real Estate was named for their home state by four conscientious objectors from
Michigan whose last alternative service project brought them to Modesto near the
end of World War II. They stayed on. Gordon Nutson and his brother Gale, Rudy
Potochnik, and the late Howard TenBrink, started a business and families, joined
the Fellowship of Reconciliation local group, help change local society in many
ways, and worked for world peace at home and abroad. They backed up their philosophy
by digging deep into their own pockets to finance dreams into reality.
When
my mother taught me about W.W.II
it was an “alternative” history of the conscientious objectors, war relief
work, and Japanese internment camps, illustrated by people around us. Gordon was
one person held up as an example to me: in fact, if I’d been born a boy, my
parents would have named me Gordon.
Gordon
was one of the founders of the Modesto Peace Center, and in pre-center days, his
name, home address and phone number were published along with 40 other trained
counselors offering draft advice to young men facing the Vietnam War in this
very conservative area.
Somewhere
there are pictures of Helen and Gordon receiving the Modesto Peace/Life
Center’s Friends of Peace award. Sandy Sample is also presenting Gordon with a
pan of cornbread. Gordon loved cornbread and drove women crazy with the
greeting: “Baked any good cornbread lately?” Cornbread got Gordon in deep
trouble. The local Old Fishermen’s
Club refused to extend a man’s membership to his widow who wanted to continue
taking the grandkids fishing there. When she brought her grievance to the
Modesto Human Rights Committee, committee member Gordon quipped that she should
stay home and bake cornbread. “I’ve baked my cornbread: now I’m ready to
go fishing!” was her retort. This and the resulting outrage made such good
press someone mailed off the clipping to Tom Hunter demanding a song.
Over
the years I have come to appreciate how much the lives, work, and lifelong
commitment of Gordon and other local peacemakers formed my worldview, my values,
and my life choices. What exceptional people and what personalities! I had time
to meditate on their influences on me as well as this community and the world in
the last days of Gordon’s life as I sat in the same hospital in ICU with my
husband Sam Tyson. Sam died three days after Gordon.
Two
other departures from our midst are
Bonnie and Ken Kline-Smeltzer, co-pastors of the Modesto Church of the Brethren
for the past 16 years. Bonnie has
accepted
a pastorate in State College, Pennsylvania
in a joint Church of the Brethren-American Baptist congregation. Between them,
Bonnie and Ken have served the local community in many capacities: the Martin
Luther King Commemorative Event, Habitat for Humanity
committee members, Peace Essay judge and
gracious awards reception M.C., speaking at many a rally, bringing a message of
peace to newspaper interviews, and much more.
In
recent years several local people who worked long and diligently for peace and
social change have died. Bonnie has said that it sometimes feels like she’s
burying a generation of saints.
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A Tribute
to Sam Tyson
By
JIM KNOX
July 7, 2002
Over
the course of our lives, we are lucky if we encounter a mere handful of
unforgettable people, who rise above life’s everyday figures, and stand out as
special influences on our own life.
For
me, and I am sure, for many of you, Sam Tyson was such a figure.
I
moved to Modesto in the late 1970s, fresh out of college, to work for Ecology
Action. At that time, PG&E was still threatening to build a nuclear power
plant in Waterford. It was as a volunteer, working at the Stanislaus Safe Energy
booth at the county fair, that I first met Sam—the organizational and
spiritual leader of that effort.
Later,
Three Mile Island, and the resistance of Sam and many of you here,
had
dampened PG&E’s
ardor for a nuclear plant in Waterford. But the MID then began to pursue its own
nuclear dreams with its courtship of a nuclear power plant under construction in
Arizona. The on-again off-again romance with the Palo Verde plant crystallized
in 1981 with a firm proposal from MID to buy into the new plant.
One
day, as the opposition was beginning to organize, Sam summoned me to the Peace
Life Center to discuss the effort. I remember it as if it were yesterday.
Sam
escorted me into 922 Sixth Street, over to the couch, and sat me down with my
back to the front window. He took up a chair across from me, sat down, and
informed me, “You are going to do the debates on this. You are going to be the
spokesperson.”
“Me?”
I protested weakly. “What about you?”
“No,
not this time,” he said resolutely.
“What
about Jim Higgs? Dan Onorato? Indira?”
“No.
No. No,” he said dismissively. “They are all wrong for this,”
he said gruffly, “You are the one.”
You
will note that I said that Sam INFORMED me of my assignment.
He
wasn’t suggesting it. Or asking me if I would consider it. It was as if I had
received a command from Moses himself. And what could I, a kid a couple of years
out of college, say to Moses?
I
learned a lot from Sam during that campaign:
About
holding government accountable.
About being willing to take on
battles against big odds.
About being able to maintain the
courage of your convictions.
One
of the things Sam encouraged us all to do as a part of that campaign was to
pepper the MID with specific technical questions about this nuclear deal.
He
stressed the importance of submitting the questions in writing in order to force
the MID to disclose information on the record, and thereby subject them to
public scrutiny and accountability.
Sam also encouraged people to
attend the MID meetings as the board began to deliberate on this issue. This was
a real novelty. Because up until then, the only outsiders that ever attended an
MID meeting were Sam, League of Women Voters’ representative Doris Scanlon,
and an occasional reporter from the Modesto
Bee.
Of
course, the MID was not set up for public participation. There was no hearing
room, nor any podium for public testimony. There was only a conference room
filled with a large table and couple of extra chairs along the wall in the back.
At Sam’s urging, interested citizens began to pack the meetings.
Seeing
the room filled with MID ratepayers standing, and completely encircling, the
table at which the board members sat was quite a sight—and a lesson for all. A
lesson for citizens in how to become engaged in local government. And a lesson
for a local governing body in how to accommodate, if not solicit, public input.
Another
lesson from Sam was never hesitate to challenge the foolish decisions of those
in authority—no matter what the odds.
And
in that anti-nuclear campaign, the odds were formidable. The entire power
structure fell in line behind the MID—the Chamber of Commerce, the Farm
Bureau and the Bee—all presumably assuming that the MID knew what it was
doing.
But
the MID had not done its homework. And Sam had. The voters became convinced of
that, voting
the nuclear deal down is a wonderful example of what
grassroots activism can accomplish.
Ultimately,
the Palo Verde nuclear plant turned into the economic disaster Sam predicted it
would be. The MID board should begin each meeting with a prayer of thanks to
Sam for saving the district and its ratepayers millions of dollars.
These
are all important lessons from Sam that have served me well in
over 20 years of public interest advocacy since that first campaign.
But,
for me, what most distinguishes Sam was his extraordinary willingness to put
himself, and his freedom, on the line in pursuing his convictions—something we
all admire, but few of us are willing to do.
I
can’t pretend to match his wisdom, his courage, or his conviction. But Sam is
certainly a big reason why I have stayed in public interest advocacy for over 20
years. His example is one that I continue to aspire to, and be inspired by, as I
know it has been, and will continue to be, for so many of you.
The
author is Executive Director of California
Common Cause, 926 J Street, STE. 910, Sacramento, CA 95814; (916) 443-1792 ext.
13.
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Sam Tyson: a remembrance
By SANDY
SAMPLE
Sam Tyson was a constant, active guiding light and
energizing spirit at the Modesto Peace/Life Center throughout its entire 32-year
history. On June 17, 2002, that light and spirit flickered and dimmed as Sam
drew his last breath after a long, slow decline in health.
A committed pacifist his whole life long, Sam was a
birthright member of the Society of Friends, commonly known as Quakers.
His line of Tysons had been among
the founding families of Germantown, PA
and its Friends which made the first ant-slavery proclamation
in the Americas in 1688. Sam honored his powerful Quaker legacy, steeping
himself in its pacifist tradition, plumbing its spiritual depths, and developing
within himself the strength of character required to choose direct action in
pursuit of peace as his life’s
true work.
Sam’s pacifist commitment was evident in his early
college years: he first attended UCLA but was forced to leave when he refused to
participate in mandatory ROTC (Reserve Officer’s Training Corps). He
subsequently became a botany/history major at USC, but was drafted into military
service before Pearl Harbor. Knowing that he could not kill another person for
any reason, Sam declared himself a Conscientious Objector (CO), and spent the
next four years in CPS (Civilian Public Service) Camp, working on forestry
projects, fighting forest fires, and serving as a human guinea pig in medical
research.
His experience in CPS Camp further honed Sam’s core
beliefs and connected him with other young pacifists from various backgrounds.
After the war, he finished his education at USC. A
recent USC graduate commented: “It’s a helluva university that can graduate
both Sam Tyson and the Nixon cabinet — and from the same era!”)
After college, Sam moved to Modesto where he connected
with other CO’s who had settled in this area and were creating a cooperative
farm. Together they formed a fledgling peace community through a local
Fellowship of Reconciliation group and later a CORE (Congress on Racial
Equality) group that worked on community issues involving racism and equality as
well as supporting a nonviolent approach to world affairs.
Sam sensed early on that his pacifism might well run
him afoul of both the law and government policies, and planned his life
accordingly. He went into farming not only because of his love of the land and
fascination with plant life, but also so the government wouldn’t be able to
attach his wages as punishment for his acts of conscience (though they did
eventually attach his bank account). He farmed his land in Waterford from 1951
until his death, and raised two sets of children to enjoy working the land,
watching things grow, and appreciating the variety, abundance, and wonder of
nature.
So strong was Sam’s inner imperative to speak truth
to power (in Quaker parlance) that he engaged in civil disobedience countless
times, but for Sam it always involved witnessing for peace on behalf of the
children of the world, rather than protesting against war and
militarism. Tales of the places Sam’s strong presence resulted in arrest would
fill volumes: at the Nevada Test Site in 1957; for holding a press conference to
announce that a boat called Everyman would set sail into nuclear testing areas
in the Pacific in 1962; at the gates of Livermore Lab on many occasions over a
40-year period; Diablo
Canyon Nuclear Power Plant; at Congressman Tony Coelho’s office in Modesto. He
accepted jail time not only as the inevitable consequence of acting on his
convictions but also as time for personal reflection, for interesting
conversations with cellmates, and for recommitting and re-centering his life.
In 1970, Sam was instrumental in co-founding the
Modesto Peace Center (/Life was added later) along with a diverse group of local
peace advocates. From the beginning, Sam was involved in the daily life of the
center, taking time off only during harvest season. He did major draft
counseling work during the Vietnam War and helped organize local Vietnam
Moratorium marches and peace rallies, as well as participating in larger
demonstrations in the Bay Area. Peace/Life Center files contain copies of many
follow-up letters Sam wrote to speakers the Center brought to Modesto, folks
like Dan and Phil Berrigan, Danilo Dolci, John Gofman, Scott Kennedy, Adolfo
Perez Esquivel; Sam always reserved the right to point out the drawbacks of a
speaker’s presentation, and in his sparse, blunt prose, did so.
Sam had particular empathy for farmworkers, and
supported Cesar Chavez’ movement to organize farmworkers into a strong union.
He carted food and supplies to Delano and organized security for the UFW March
on Gallo in 1975, but always reserved the right to critique UFW strategy and
organizing style.
Though often critical of how other peace and justice
groups operated, Sam was always willing to work with them even though he
didn’t always agree with their agendas. He did, however, always insist that
the goals be peaceful and the principles include nonviolence. He welcomed the
Center sharing its space and/or human energy with groups such as NOW, Parents
Plea for Peace, Nuclear Freeze and Bottle Bill initiative,
Beyond War, Stanislaus Safe Energy Committee, Stanislaus County Interfaith
Committee on Latin America, Ecology Action, the Green Party, and League of Women
Voters. His patient research and strategy was a key factor in shelving the plan
to build a nuclear power plant in Waterford in the late
1970s.
Because he was driven by conscience rather than
political strategy, Sam was willing to often be the lone voice speaking out for
peace. For several years he stood every Tuesday afternoon in front of the
Federal Building in Modesto with his hand-lettered sign: “Violence Is Never
The Answer.” He welcomed others to join him, but never pressured people to
vigil with him, and was content to bear personal witness alone. He enjoyed
occasional dialogue with passersby, listening to their views respectfully, and
quietly stating his own, but never harangued or berated them. He willingly
accepted invitations to speak
to students or other groups about the challenges of pacifism, or simply to
present an alternative viewpoint on critical issues of the day.
On a one-to-one basis, Sam could be infinitely
patient; he could sit and talk for hours, listening carefully, posing probing
questions, stating his position briefly, and gently nudging the conversation in
the direction of action to promote peace. He genuinely believed that each person
needed to form his/her own opinion, and would do so freely if offered adequate
information. He offered his views thoughtfully, in a no-nonsense manner, but did
not force them on anyone. The process of connecting with others who might share
his commitment to peace, mentoring young people who were wrestling with matters
of conscience, and living lightly on the earth meant as much to Sam as did his
public actions that made the news or landed him in jail. His public actions
were, however, deeply thought out, never a lark or a whim or a publicity stunt;
they were acts of deep conviction, not political strategy.
Like most visionaries, Sam was not always easy to live
with; he had strong opinions, expressed them bluntly, never minced words. Those
who knew him well saw his strength of character, admired his courage, put up
with his crotchets, and felt honored to have been able to walk the same path
with him for a time. Sam never much liked being placed on a pedestal, and
refused to serve as anyone’s guru; fortunately, his own basic cantankerous
nature often served as a healthy deterrent to pedestalization!
As his health began to fail and his vigor diminished,
Sam gradually began an intentional and rather graceful process of letting go of
the reins of the Peace/Life Center. For those who were not used to his ways, it
may not have been obvious that any letting-go was happening: his opinions were
still strong, he was still sure that his way of doing things was the right way,
and his style was still abrupt.
Yet those who knew him well observed many times when he chose to let go of
control: withhold an ascerbic comment,
yield consensus
rather than blocking it, simply pointing
out the obvious without belaboring the issue.
It was particularly painful for Sam when people in the
peace community treated each other with disrespect, or when rhetoric replaced
thoughtful analysis,
and arrogance took the place of humility. Sam was ever the realist about human
nature, but when he witnessed periods of conflict within his beloved Center, it
was a struggle for him to hold his tongue, bide his time, and trust that people
would commit to rebuilding what anger and mistrust had destroyed. His quiet
wisdom and patience had more than once mentored the Center through
conflict-ridden times. From these he had learned that without putting effort
into building a sense of community and personal connection, differences, whether
of opinion, personal style or political priorities, could loom large and erode
the common ground on which we stand and from which our best peace work emerges.
It was a lesson he reminded us of regularly.
When
we take on the enormous task of refiling, cataloguing and archiving the
Center’s piles and files,
much less clean out Sam’s desk, I suspect we will find Sam’s imprint on
every single scrap. He was a critical part of the Center for so long and through
so many changes that it will be impossible
to ignore his mark.
For as long as the Peace/Life Center endures, Sam will be missed and remembered
for the vision and solid conviction that he brought into our midst. It was
indeed a gift.
Even though over the past few months, we saw Sam
become more and more frail, somehow we wanted to believe he would always be
around. Sam Tyson and the Modesto Peace/Life Center had been linked so closely
for so long that it was hard to believe the time would come when he would be
gone and it would be up to those he had mentored and those who would arrive
later to carry on the work of peacemaking. And now, whether or not we are ready,
Sam is gone from our midst and the ongoing tasks are left in our hands.
It has been said that “the pacifist speaks softly
and carries a wand of hope.” Sam Tyson was one who held high the wand of hope
throughout his 83 years. Many people of conscience were stirred by his courage,
moved by his gentleness of spirit and willingness to listen, inspired by his
vision, and encouraged by his refusal to budge from the ground on which his deep
convictions had placed him. May we continue to hold high the wand of hope and
work together with care and courage to continue the work Sam helped to
cultivate.
It was Sam’s firm conviction that “There is no
time ever that war is justified.” May we join him in spirit in working toward
the day when that conviction will become a thriving and enduring reality in our
increasingly fragile and violent world.
OPINION: Whither the Peace/Life Center?
By
BILL BISHOP
I
believe that the proper policy of the Modesto Peace/Life Center is to do
everything possible to bring about a peaceful
resolution to the
conflict in the Middle East. We must pursue all avenues legally open to us. It
is neither proper nor legal for us to attempt to engage in diplomacy with the
contending parties. What is proper and legal
for us is to begin to influence the U.S. policy towards the Middle East
and influence legislation in Congress. We must focus our efforts on these two
objectives. In addition, I believe that we also must focus upon the possible. I
do not believe it possible for us to “over-rule” the American Jewish lobby.
It is possible to craft a reasonable position statement, and market that
statement to the American Jewish lobby as a position which is not inimical to
their own.
We
must examine our past failures and successes, and learn from them. We can learn
important lessons from the Viet Nam war experience, and the resistance to that
war.
During
the Eisenhower and Kennedy administrations, U.S. involvement in Viet Nam was
limited. The handsful of people around the country protesting our involvement
were very easily ignored: their numbers were too few, and their position was
easily marginalized. The government was able to manage the flow of information
coming out of Viet Nam. The people of America were being told that all was well
in Viet Nam, and that the situation there was in good hands. The media told us
there was nothing to fear. We were told that the people waving banners were
left-wing freaks: communists, “pinkos” and “fellow travelers” who were
simply out of touch with reality. Quite the contrary was true.
This
situation did not change until the American presence in Viet Nam became much
larger. Then the American people began hearing stories from their sons, their
neighbors’ sons, and their children’s old high school friends. The
government was no longer able to manage the flow of information coming out of
Viet Nam. Once this change occurred, and as our presence in Viet Nam began to
affect a larger and larger number of American families, the U.S. media began
covering the war in much greater detail. It was only when the American people
saw the carnage on the nightly news that the numbers of war protesters swelled
to proportions the government was no longer able to ignore. It was the rising
number of protesters that finally brought an end to the war.
The
current situation in the Middle East is analogous to the situation that occurred
during the Eisenhower-Kennedy period. The government and the American Media are
managing the news coming out of the Middle East. Thus, the American people are
being fed a sanitized version of the news, a version designed to foster a
wide-spread denial of what is actually happening. I have no doubt that
“mainstream America” would be equally appalled if they were faced with the
hard reality of life as it is being imposed upon the Palestinians.
There
is also a very important difference between what is happening in the Middle East
and the Viet Nam war. We are not going to see large numbers of American soldiers
fighting in Israel alongside Israeli soldiers against the Palestinians. This
means that the government and the American media are not going to lose control
of the flow of information out of the Middle East the same way as the government
lost control in Viet Nam. We must never lose sight of this fact, because this
means that the current-day protesters against the U.S. policy in the Middle East
can be easily marginalized, just as they were during the Kennedy Administration.
The American people will be told that protesters are simply out of touch with
reality – and the American people will accept it.
If
we hope to influence our government’s policy in the Middle East, or have an
impact on bills before Congress, we must cause the government and the American
media to lose control of the flow of information out of the Middle East. The
only way we can do this is to establish ourselves as “honest brokers” of
information, and present a credible alternative source of news, a source the
American people will neither shun nor ignore.. We must develop alternative
avenues of getting this information to the American people. Fortunately, this is
easier to do today than it was during the Viet Nam era. To be truly effective,
however, We must establish closer ties to other Peace Centers on both state and
national levels in order to orchestrate our activities. We can only succeed in
this mission when we succeed in bringing the reality of the situation in the
Middle East into the public consciousness.
I
believe we will not succeed in presenting ourselves as “honest brokers” if
we espouse an inflammatory and highly partisan position statement. In no way do
I propose to alter the terms suggested as a means of bringing peace to the
Middle East. My objection is only to the language used in the statement. At the
same time, I also believe that as an “honest broker,” the Peace/Life Center
cannot actively sponsor demonstrations against the Israeli suppression in the
Middle East. I believe that this is the proper business of the Committee for
Peace in the Middle East. I also believe that we must establish a formal
separation between the Committee for Peace in the Middle East and the Modesto
Peace/Life Center. The appropriate mission of the Peace/Life Center is to
provide the general public with the information that will provoke a much larger
protest from the citizenry as a whole. The concept here is to use information to
leverage the numbers of protesters into a force that the government cannot
ignore. Failing this, we fail in our mission.
I
do not wish to deprecate the members of the Committee for Peace in the Middle
East. Their work is essential. Should we succeed in bringing a more realistic
perception to mainstream America, the Committee and its counterparts around the
country will serve as the standard bearers for the larger protests necessary to
effect the changes we wish to bring about.
In
order for us to influence the world we live in, we must change the way we think,
the way we act, and the way in which we organize ourselves. We must focus upon
that which can be done. As the Modesto Peace/Life Center, we renounce violent
action. We must renounce violent thoughts and words as well. I believe that the
Peace/Life Center’s current position statement on the Middle East contains too
much violence in its thought. Upon reading it, one does not walk away feeling
that we are concerned about the well being of all the parties involved in the
conflict. It is for this reason that I propose an alternate statement, a
statement based upon the balance necessary if Peace is ever going to have a
chance in the Middle East. (see p. ?)
This
month, the Board of Directors will hold a general meeting to discuss the wording
of the PLC’s Middle East Position Statement. I submit that it is the
responsibility of all members of the Peace/Life Center to attend the meeting,
and to provide input to the Board on what the Membership believes to be the
proper mission of the Peace/Life Center.
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