October 2001 - African Insights Blog - Newsletter:

Thoughts on being Human Rwanda September 1994

The time was September of 1994, the genocide of Rwanda had left 1 million dead, millions more displaced, a country deeply divided and wounded.  People were simply trying to survive.  The horror of it all had deeply affected every Rwandan family.  It was a time where the wounds of war, hatred, and tribalism were still running deep.

I had made the mistake and asked a young woman I met as to what tribe she came from; her answer has never left me, in fact in these past few weeks it has come back again and again.  “I am a human being, what does it matter as to what tribe I come from?”

Those words have stuck with me since then, I have often reflected up on them in my own personal journey through life, my own personal prejudices, likes and dislikes of people, cultures and ways. The events that have come to the United States of America have made me reflect once again on the things that divide us, the things that people will die for and fight for, live for, and at the end of the day it comes down to “I am a human being, what does it matter as to what tribe I come from?”

What does it matter whether one is American, British, German, Kikuyu, Hutu, Tutsi, Mugandan or Langi, what does it matter to be a Catholic, Muslim, Protestant, Sikh, Hindu.  We are all born into this world, we all have hopes and expectations, dreams, desires to be and to become, and yet why do people rage against one another, why do the Catholics and Protestants fight in Northern Ireland, why do the Tutsis and Hutus not turn their swords into plowshares?  Why do the Palestinians and Israelis continue to kill one another, why do some extremists of Islam make it their aim to destroy a country like the USA? Why do so-called Christian leaders like Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson and others make a statement that we had it coming, that the protection of God has been removed from America? Even if they were right, such words do not bring most closer to God, if I remember correctly…”it is God’s loving kindness that leads to real heart change.”

After the 100 days from hell that took place in Rwanda in 1994 I sat in an Anglican Church during its English speaking service.  A Ugandan minister was delivering the sermon, sharing about being created in the image of God and being the temple of God.  My eyes wandered around the church, bullet holes were everywhere,  this sanctuary had been desecrated with destructive hate. 

Many ministers, (recently several nuns were convicted of crimes against humanity in Belgium along with a businessman and an educator, also a Seventh Day Adventist minister is now on trial in Arusha, Tanzania for crimes against his own congregation) nuns, priests had been involved in the senseless killings in their attempt to purge Rwanda of the Tutsi minority.  They saw it as the will God, and themselves as messengers, avengers, as cleansers very much like those associated with Osama bin Laden see themselves as holy warriors carrying out God’s will on earth. 

On that Sunday morning I came to realize, that instead of allowing God to form his image in us, we create a big version of our image of what God should be like.  We create this God filled with our prejudices, our fears and angers, our intolerance of others, our hatred and this we call God.  I would call it a false idol, instead of the God of love, of acceptance, who shows grace and mercy. 

We can see example of that throughout history, in most every culture, land and or tribe.  The holy crusades, the conquest of the infidels by the Islamic culture, the inquisitions, the subjugation of Africans by a culture that created a God of classes, where blacks were lesser than.  Today, that same spirit permeates our worlds.  Osama bin Laden is not the first who has created a God of hatred and destruction; he will not be the last one either.  He like so many others before him is caught up in twisting the ancient teachings of his faith just like many others have twisted theirs or created one of their own liking all together.

Religious words without the spirit of Grace behind them bring death, destruction, and an ignorance of the nature and character of God.  Religious zealots lack an understanding of divine grace and most likely have never experienced it for themselves.

The religious fanatic will not only create God in his image, he will look for a scapegoat on whom he or she can blame the present condition.  Germany and other European countries blamed the Jews, the Hutus of Rwanda blamed the Tutsis, and today people like Osama bin Laden blame the great Satan of the United States for the state of Islam and its former glory and empires.  Names are used to vilify and the de-humanize the perceived enemy, all of which makes it easier to eliminate them in whatever manner possible.  We have seen that over and over again.  Hatred creating fear, suffering and ultimately elimination, since those that are being eliminated are not human beings any longer but Jews, Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus, Africans, Native Americans unbelievers and more.

The woman told me in Rwanda…“I am a human being, what does it matter as to what tribe I come from?”…  In 1944 the Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko was taken by his mother from Siberia to Moscow.  There he witnessed a procession of 20,000 German war prisoners marching through the streets…he wrote later: 

“The pavement swarmed with onlookers, cordoned off by soldiers and police.  The crowd was mostly women, Russian women with hands roughened by hard work, lips untouched by lipstick, and with hunched shoulders which had born half the burden of the war.  Every one of them must have had a father or a husband, a brother or a son killed by the Germans.  They gazed with hatred in the direction from the which the column was to appear.

At last we saw it.  The generals marched at the head, massive chins stuck out, lips folded disdainfully, their whole demeanor meant to show superiority over the plebian victors.

‘They smell of perfume, the bastards,’ someone in the crowd said with hatred.  The women were clenching their fists.  The soldiers and policemen had all they could do to hold them back.

All at once something happened to them.  They saw German soldiers, thin, unshaven, wearing dirty, bloodstained bandages, hobbling on crutches or leaning on the shoulders of their comrades; the soldiers walked with their heads down.  The street became dead silent – the only sound was the shuffling of boots and the thumping of crutches.

Then I saw an elderly woman in broken-down boots push herself forward and touch a policeman’s shoulder, saying “Let me through.'  There must have been something about her that made him step aside.  She up to the column, took from inside her coat something wrapped in a colored handkerchief and unfolded it.  It was a piece of black bread.  She pushed it awkwardly into the pocket of the solder, so exhausted he was tottering on his feet.  An now from every side women were running toward the soldiers, pushing into their hands, bread, candy, whatever they head.  The solders were no longer enemies, but human beings.”

I am a human being who arrived in America some thirty years ago via ship from Europe.  On that August night I saw the skyline of New York, the statue of Liberty shimmering in the setting sun.  Tears came down my eyes and I wept with joy.  Many years have come and gone, I have see much of this country, warts and all and still I believe in it ever so strongly, believe what is engraved on that Lady of Liberty, “give me your tired, your poor, your downtrodden,” I still strongly believe in the principles of this country, liberty and justice for all.  I even served in this country’s army while I was not a citizen.  Today when this country with all that it stands  for, the place where millions have come to try again, to start over again in freedom and liberty.  When this country with  its  reverence for life (where we dig in the world trade center until the last body is recovered), when this country that I chose as my place to call home has been attacked by some who took the name of God in vain, knocking America down but not out, I am saddened, but realize that like the toy of the 70's, Stretch Armstrong, no matter how far you pulled him apart, by next morning he was back together.  American is coming together...

I meet people from every background, every religion, every color, and the words heard in Rwanda have once again been renewed within.  An act of terror will not extinguish the flame of life, of love, of grace with in.  I have seen the spirit of Harambee in streets of America, on news broadcasts, in government and I glad to be a human being who lives in this country called the United States of America, but also a human being who lives in this world of ours...and one who in his humble way allows himself to be molded in the image of the one who created me…jon

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Last updated: 21 August 2010

Thoughts on being Human

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