An Easter Letter to President Obama

Dear Mr. President, 
Early Saturday morning, a helicopter gunship attacked Taliban insurgents in Ghazni province who had attacked Afghan security forces. There are conflicting reports about the death toll, about whether the helicopter was called in by Afghan forces in violation of Karzai’s ban (the military first said that was the case, then denied it), and whether civilians were killed. As usual, the military claims only terrorists were killed but a Reuters reporter saw the body of a boy, still in his school uniform, and the hand and foot of a toddler nearby. (http://www.reuters.com/article/2013/03/30/us-afghanistan-airstrike-idUSBRE92T03020130330) In the initial battle between Taliban and Afghan security forces, a woman was killed and 8 civilians wounded. Ahmad Jan, a 15-year-old wounded in the helicopter attack, was in a car and describes what happened: “The Taliban stopped our vehicle and one of them embarked. All of a sudden, there was a strike that left me unconscious.” Of the five passengers in the car, three are missing, presumably dead, collateral damage. (http://www.rawa.org/temp/runews/2013/03/30/two-civilians-among-16-killed-in-ghazni-nato-airstrike.html) Today is Easter, Mr. President, a day that’s supposed to be about peace, rebirth, redemption and forgiveness, but there is little of that in the world today; there is only vengeance and violence, death and destruction. In spite of the Nobel Peace Prize, there are no peacemakers in Washington today, only warmongers who spread fear and preach hatred for their own gain, who understand nothing of the reality of war, of the misery and hardship it causes, the enduring hatred it creates and the seeds for future conflict it plants. I often wonder what you feel each Tuesday when you select names to go on your Kill List; whether you’ve ever looked through the eye of a predator drone at those tiny blobs going about their business 8,000 miles away, civilians indistinguishable from terrorists; whether you’ve ever listened to drone operators or helicopter gunship crews exult over the carnage they’ve just created, heard the blood lust and adrenaline rush apparent in their voices, their pure joy of the game. You are responsible for the deaths of thousands and the misery and hardships of many times that number and I wonder if you are ever embarrassed by your Nobel Peace Prize and whether there is even room for peace in your heart. On this Easter day you are perhaps the one most in need of redemption and rebirth,