So last week at a poetry reading I heard yet another person talk about how ‘we’re approaching an important anniversary next week, we all need to reflect, yada yada yada’. Yep, ye olde September 11th.
But which September 11th, you might ask? Because she might also be talking about another pretty frickin’ important anniversary of massive bloodshed connected to that date. And an informed individual who’s taking the time to write about an important historical event, of course wouldn’t want to diminish the other anniversary by acting as if there was only ONE important September 11th, would she?
But silly me, it’s all about 2001. Don’t get me wrong, my heart aches for those who lost their loved ones in that horrid event (including those we haven’t counted who are dying from the toxic waste left behind). But there is a certain callousness in us completely forgetting about the 70,000 Chileans who died or simply disappeared as a result of the US-led coup on that day in 1973. Because the simple fact is, that in both cases the massive loss of life was a result of American imperialism and a wanton disrespect for the dignity of human beings in general.
The support and instigatation of the violent removal of a democratically-elected leader (hell, his lead was bigger than Bush’s and had a hell of a stronger constitutional argument!) and leaving in its stead a tyrant responsible for countless deaths and torture during his 17-year reign, is that not an action we should spend a moment pondering? Granted I wasn’t around in 1974, but I’d be willing to bet dollars to doughnuts there wasn’t any worldwide moment of silence on September 11th of that year. Nor do I think there’s been one since.
I’m probably being a little unfair directing my rant at this particular artist. Lord knows it could have been a kick-ass poem but I’m afraid I tuned out after that. It was just the straw that broke the camel’s back, I guess.
But as my mood has been tempered a bit today by some quality nature-walking with the dogs, I will try and end this post with some comfort for the soul - a wee bit of hope. A little Neruda (who more appropriate for today?) from my lovely birthday-present collected works:
My heart’s in this struggle.
My people will overcome. All the peoples
will overcome, one by one.
These sorrows
will be wrung like handkerchiefs until
all the tears shed on the desert’s
galleries, on graves, on the steps
of human martyrdom, are squeezed dry.
But the victorious time’s nearby.
Let hatred reign so that punishment’s
hands won’t tremble,
let the hour hand
reach its timetable in the pure instant,
and let the people fill the empty streets
with fresh and firm dimensions.
Here’s my tenderness for that time.
You’ll know it. I have no other flag.
