On September 11th, I wept for humanity, and humanity knows no borders. I fear that the United States is about to take a colossal, irrevocable step away from humanity, and I cannot simply stand by silently and let this happen.

I ask you this question: What is the difference between and American child and an Afghani one? These days, an American child has no trouble sleeping—he remains safe, knowing that his president, and his army, remain the strongest and most aggressive in the world. He feels safe and sleeps well, for he is afforded a faith in his nation’s power to defeat its enemies. He trusts his country’s ability to fight, as he trusts his parents’ ability to feed him. He has inherited his parents’ pride, and now he has inherited his parents’ enemies.

But these days, an Afghani child might now sleep at all. Perhaps he is filled too much with awe of the rich bastion of freedom and materialism at the other end of the globe. For this child, I have empathy. I have compassion for him, because I cannot blame him. He lives in a country that his seen nothing but poverty and war for countless generations past.

These days, he does not sleep well. Perhaps he is filled too much with terror as he lies waiting for the American planes to circle the sky above his home like hawks, like vultures, ready—no, eager—to abolish him in the name of justice. Perhaps he lies awake, full of questions, such as:

Where is America? What is it like there? Why are they angry at me? Or even, Who is Osama Bin Laden?

For his fear, I am overflowing with compassion. My heart aches at the thought of one single innocent child dying in the process of retaliation. Call me an idealist, but I don’t see the world in terms of borders. Call me a traitor, but I have no desire to prove to the world that we are mighty. Call me foolish, but I don’t think that American interests will be defended by attacking Afghanistan.

If American interests are justice and freedom and equality, why must that stop at our own borders? I urge each of you to look beyond borders and consider the responsibility we all now hold as the potential supporters of massive global conflict.

We all wept when we saw the images on 911, but the images of the death, destruction and desperation which will engulf Afghanistan after our attack. will remain unseen by our eyes. Our children will sleep well while the Afghani people suffer; suffer for the actions of a fanatical group that the United States supported less than a decade ago.

At this crucial hour in world history, every American must become aware of the CIA’s role in the creation of terrorist forces. As responsible Americans, we must educate ourselves about the origins of this situation—circumstances that began long before September 11th.

As responsible human beings, we must come to understand the origins of anger and ignorance, and imagine the terrifying possibilities of a conflict that can quickly escalate beyond the realm of any nation’s control.

We must ask ourselves, what is justice? Is justice dead Afghani citizens?

More death will never bring the people who lost their lives back to us. It will only fuel more anger and hate in a world that is already overflowing with it.

As a nation, we are more hurt and confused than we have ever been in our history. It is not a time for blind retaliation. This is far too dangerous a situation. It is a time for thought and evaluation. A time to contemplate what justice is.

Too often in this world, people think of justice as retaliation. They make the age-old mistake of believing that if they have been hurt, hurting someone else is a just response. This has never been true, and it remains the most prevalent misconception threatening humanity today.

We simply cannot achieve justice while angry. So for those of you thirsty for justice, I beg of you, work hard to understand fear, work hard to comfort pain and sorrow, work hard to address your anger in a constructive way. And most of all, if you want justice, I beg of you to work harder for peace.
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