Why I Can’t Be Happy About Osama’s Death
It’s the same reason I chose not to spank my kids. Fear is a powerful motivator, yes. But the only thing I’ve ever seen it motivate anyone to do is hide. Hide their intentions. Hide their actions. Hide their plans. And in my house, growing up, spanking was used as a tool for control because it inspired fear. “Do you want a spanking?” Heck, no! So we learned to lie. We learned to behave a little better, too, but it certainly didn’t teach us right from wrong. We learned avoidance.
When Bubba and I decided, very intentionally, to get pregnant, I voiced my very strong opinion against spanking. At the time, it was naive and optimistic and borne out of my pacifist ideals. Later, when Eve would get willful or fight against napping, and when she was two and her favorite philosophical position was, “NO!” it became a question. Why can’t I spank her? Why did I think this was a bad idea? And it prompted some mental exploration on my part.
My knee-jerk reaction was that hitting another being was wrong. Period. Wrong with a capital-W. Why? Recalling my experiences with spanking, for myself and my siblings flooded my senses with fear. I don’t want my child to be afraid of me. But it was more than that. Each and every time I was spanked, it came from a place of anger. My parents were furious with me and they showed it. In some cases, that anger was nearly out of control, and it was always palpable. As a child, I vowed (for many reasons) never to be out of control. Responding to my child, or anyone else for that matter, in extreme anger, rage, or frustration was frightening to me.
I learned to step back. I learned that it is perfectly acceptable to take a time-out and breathe and consider my options. I learned that automatic consequences that were borne of rage tended to be overblown and out of proportion and they generally were incapable of being carried out: “No TV until you’re 16, young lady!” I also learned that as I took time to consider my options, I could learn a little bit about the situation and gain insights that I hadn’t noted previously. Unless I chose to hang on to the anger and let it simmer. In which case it turned to score-settling and revenge-seeking.
I remember exactly where I was on September 11, 2001. I awoke to the phone ringing and answered to hear my father-in-law’s voice telling me to turn on the television. He was rattled and I sat riveted to the news reports all morning, eighteen-month-old Eve strapped into the Baby Bjorn on my chest. I was overwhelmed with sadness. I was also confused and a little bit frightened. And since that day, our lives have changed a lot as Americans. And I completely understand the anger and hatred and rage directed at Al-Qaida and Osama bin Laden. But I don’t think his death will change anything.
Watching the news coverage last night, I took in the sight of the growing crowd in front of the White House as they chanted and held up signs. I acknowledged the notion that this provides closure for a lot of people. And I was saddened that, for many individuals, the over-riding sense was that a score had been settled. I can honestly say that I don’t think acts based in anger or rage or vengeance can ever “end” a feud. I have never seen an argument settled when the last word spoken was out of hatred. Osama bin Laden may have masterminded some atrocious acts in his life, but his death will only add fuel to the fire for those who believed in his brand of terrorism. This is not a game of Chess. Osama was not the opponent’s king who, once cleared from the board, signals the end of the match. There are no “fair” rulings here. I am not saying that a just punishment for Osama bin Laden is not warranted. I am simply saying that to take joy in the death of someone else cannot provide any sort of healing for anyone.
I am certain that my parents don’t wish they had spanked us more as children or reacted in anger more often. I know that, these days, when Eve and Lola ask my mother if she really used to spank us with a wooden spoon, she cringes. I’m pretty sure I know what that means.
I agree with this wholeheartedly. When I got the breaking news text on my phone late last night I wasn't excited–Osama is/was a figurehead only. The ideology he stood for still exists, and this will not end anything. Today I've been reading on Facebook and other social outlets the outpouring of, for lack of a better word, joy, and I just don't get it. I'm more scared for what the immediate future will bring for those in foreign countries.
u should have been more fearful while he was alive. he planned on killing more of ppl just like YOU. but now he can not cuz he's DEAD. simple as that. that's why thousands of americans are overjoyed. that evil man could no longer hurt us.
Sigh. It's always the anonymous commenter who objects and hasn't the courage to name him or herself.
I agree with you completely — have felt ill and conflicted all day today — not that Bin Laden is dead but that there is some sort of expectation that we should be happy and rejoice in it. I just can't and don't.
As one of my friends said, many in the US call themselves (and the nation) Christian–however, he didn't think that Jesus would be leading a parade today. And I think he wouldn't be flashing anyone in Times Square.
I am always pleased when evil and its purveyors are diminished. But one man's death won't stop it.
Yes, anonymous makes the rounds. I find the hit-and-run to be a disturbing methodology. It is an example of the problem we are discussing here.
I will echo the sentiments of Anonymous. There is always a cause for rejoicing when evil is diminished.
No, Bin Laden's death does not put an end to evil, but it does eliminate the influence he had on others who are bent on destroying innocents.
I do not rejoice over his death for its own sake. I am relieved, however, that in his case, countless other lives have been spared. He was an evil man, and evil must be stood up to and dealt with.
Well said Kari. I read this on a friends FB page and really liked it.
“I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that” ~Martin Luther King
I'm so glad to read this here this morning. I've been feeling a little sick and a lot unsettled since the news of bin Laden's death was released. Our entire national response to 9/11 has been so out of character for who we said we were up to that point. I'm saddened for all of us, and afraid of where this will lead.
Great weaving of the two stories together, by the way.
"I am certain that my parents don't wish they had spanked us more as children or reacted in anger more often."
This line is really powerful.
dont you love how these "bold" anonymous commenters just cant seem use their name? hmmm. interesting.
anyway… nicely written. (not the anonymous dude… but YOURS 🙂 )