A Time to Forgive or Forget?

 


Standing outside UN Development Program office in Baghdad Dec. 9, 2002

After 20 Years – Is It Time to Forgive? By Steve Clemens

 

March 20, 2003 marked the beginning of (another) US invasion of Iraq. It was based on lies and anti-Muslim fears and resentments, but average Americans often believed their national leaders and the corporate media which basically silenced those who opposed military intervention.

 

Having traveled to Baghdad in December 2002 as part of an ad-hoc “Peace Team”, with the intent to be present with the Iraqi people in the face of a threatened “Shock and Awe” bombardment, I returned back to Minnesota 3 months before the war actually began. I used those 3 months to speak to more than 60 groups at schools, colleges, community centers, and churches about what I saw and learned about Iraq – hoping to galvanize the vocal opposition to the war. I concentrated my pictures with the faces of children, noting that these are often the primary victims of the brutal sanctions regime placed on the country by the US and Britain since 1991, and photos of power plants and water treatment facilities in complete disrepair.

 

After the war and occupation dragged on -much beyond the “cakewalk” promised by Rumsfeld and others, and well beyond the “Mission Accomplished” photo op of our President decked out in a flight suit on the deck of a carrier off the coast of San Diego, the mood in our nation began to gradually turn as more US military, mercenary contractors, and even embedded journalists failed to return or returned with missing limbs, head traumas, and/or PTSD. Notions of “the long war” arose as the occupation past the length of the Vietnam fiasco. And Afghanistan continued to demand more military sacrifices as well.

 

A local restauranteur I hadn’t met yet, Sami Rasouli, decided to return to his native Iraq city of Najaf to see for himself. Some local friends approached me to ask if I would join their efforts to find ways to financially support him and to help “broaden” his voice by sharing some of the Iraqi art he brought back with him to dispel the myths about the land and culture we were destroying. Those efforts eventually coalesced into what became The Iraqi and American Reconciliation Project, an NGO based in Minneapolis which worked to educate and encourage and heal the toxic divides in our country over the war and between Americans and Iraqis.

 

At Sami’s behest, we worked to have Minneapolis become a Sister City with his home city of Najaf, and Sami brought numerous delegations of Iraqi professionals to the US when visas could be secured. Finally, after President Obama removed US troops out of the country (and before returning them to attack a rising ISIS a little more than a year or two later), IARP accepted an invitation by the governor of Najaf to visit our Sister City in November 2012. The governor had us stay in a “guest house” overlooking the Euphrates River – a former gaudy palace built by Saddam Hussein during his brutal reign. Despite the destruction wrought in their nation and homeland by US and British militaries and mercenary contractors, the Iraqi people we met welcomed us with smiles, tears, and embraces. It seemed to me that they were willing to forgive -if not forget- those of us who traveled a great distance to be with them.

 

But the governing system foisted on the Iraqi people by the Occupiers, and, at the encouragement of former exiled “elites” like Chalabi, emphasized sectarian divides and power and privileges given disproportionally to sectarian militia or tribal leaders mostly at the expense of the ordinary Iraqi citizens. Corruption was rampant – both by US
contractors who skimmed off much of the money allocated to rebuild schools, hospitals, power grids, water treatment plants, … - as well as sectarian “leaders” who saw their opportunity to regain what they claim Saddam “stole” from them. Tragically this continues today.

 

On the 20th anniversary much of the US media used the term “mistake” when describing the invasion, war, and occupation. There were few voices that really identified it as a “crime” even though that same media used that term to describe Putin’s invasion of Ukraine. The irony of forgetting Abu Ghraib, “black sites” run by the CIA, Guantanamo prisoners, as well as the destruction of civilian infrastructure is not lost on other nations or Iraqis as we, as a nation, pivot to a Cold War with China as well as a proxy war with Russia.

 

We can’t ask the Iraqis to forgive us if we work diligently to forget what we did and fail to learn that military might cannot install either democracy or civility. Iraq continues be seen as still “unstable”. The US State Department lists Iraq as “Level 4: Do Not Travel” as of January 3 of 2023, adding, “Do not travel to Iraq due to terrorism, kidnapping, armed conflict, civil unrest, and Mission Iraq’s limited capacity to provide support to U.S. citizens.

 

So, short of traveling back to Iraq – and, is there a government official there who would even invite us? – how can we work for healing and reconciliation today? At least one way is to get to know and welcome the Iraqis who have come here as immigrants, asylees, refugees, and visitors. Listen to their stories. Hear and learn from their experiences. Pay attention to the poets and artists, the playwrights and storytellers. Visit their mosques and attend iftar gatherings during the holy month of Ramadan. Ask questions. Have empathy. Open your arms. Welcome them to your homes. Say, “I’m sorry” without any expectations of hearing a word of forgiveness. How are individuals able to forgive what nations do to others? And read – start with A Stranger in Your Own City: Travels in the Middle East’s Long War by Ghaith Abdul-Ahad.

Reminiscing About Jimmy Carter


 Reflecting on Jimmy Carter by Steve Clemens

 

With word of former President Jimmy Carter entering hospice care, I thought back on my (limited) interactions with him and his family.

 

When I moved to Sumter County, GA in the fall of 1975, I became aware that a former Governor of the state had decided to enter the race to become the nominee of the Democratic Party for President of the US in the upcoming 1976 election. The former governor was not all that popular with a number of white residents of the county where he was born and now prided himself of being “from Plains, GA”. The intentional community I had joined (Koinonia Partners) was located midway between the county seat of Americus and the small town of Plains and the local children attended school in Plains.

 

Because my wife Christine was a nurse, she had a particular interest in a Plains resident who had worked at Koinonia in the 1950s and 60s (at great physical risk to herself) because she also labored as a midwife. Christine loved her work with new mothers and babies and sought out “Miss Gussie” Jackson who regaled us with her stories of all the babies she helped deliver. But one story stuck out for us when she told us about the time her home was firebombed by local racist white men because of her connections to Koinonia. Fortunately, only the porch was destroyed and she was not injured but she told us a “local white man”, a school board member, Jimmy Carter, publicly denounced the White Citizens Council for their racial violence. In the late 1950s in Plains, that took tremendous courage. She told us how proud she was that this man was now running for President! Later on, we found out that one of her daughters, Oculia, now worked as a cook for the Carter family.

 

So, when the local newspaper or radio station announced that the Carter family was inviting anyone to come to the old train depot in Plains on Tuesday nights in 1976 to watch the primary campaign returns, I decided to join in and sat with Chip, Billy, Gloria, Miss Lillian, or other family members in a rocking chair for several of the early primaries before many people believed Carter had any chance of winning. (I didn’t tell them that I really supported Governor Jerry Brown as my preferred candidate – a more progressive contender at the time.) The sign over the train depot read “Jimmy Carter Presidential Campaign Headquarters”.

 

When Jimmy came back home between campaign rallies, it was funny to see big men wearing new bib overalls and flannel shirts in the crowd. The Secret Service assigned to candidate Carter were told to “wear what the candidate was wearing” to better blend in – thus the new clothes. I approached one of the agents to ask how he liked this assignment and he was casual and friendly, taking time to answer my questions as he continued to scan the crowd for possible threats. As Carter began to win more and more primaries, the Secret Service agents assigned to him became much less friendly and more “business-like”. By the time he got the nomination, those agents were much less “friendly” – no bib overalls now and fewer smiles or conversation!

 

Again, in the early days of the campaign, TV networks or newspapers sent their top reporters to cover other candidates. But as Carter racked up more support, the likes of Sam Donaldson and Kenley Jones came to Sumter County to report on this unique candidate. Because there were no hotels in Plains, the reporters stayed in Americus. They had per-diem allowances for lodging and meals but there were no 5-Star restaurants nearby. A local woman opened up a double-wide trailer on the outskirts of Americus with a sign that read “Faye’s Bar-B-Que Villa”. When Christine and I went to eat there one Saturday evening when Carter was in town, we were surprised to see both Donaldson and Jones come in with several other reporters, carrying bottles in brown bags because Faye didn’t have a license to serve alcohol. We could overhear them complaining about the lack of any “nightlife” in Sumter County. Soon, I’m sure at their request, steaks were added to her menu!

 

As the campaign continued successfully, there was more and more interest in the candidate’s brother, Billy and his sister, “go-go” Gloria (she rode a motorcycle). Even more intriguing was Carter’s mother, “Miss Lillian”. She always had an opinion and freely shared it. Rosalynn’s family seemed a lot less memorable to the media.

 

My hesitancy in supporting Carter stemmed primarily to his embrace of his Naval service under Admiral Rickover with nuclear submarines. Having recently been part of a year-long Bible study group with Phil Berrigan and Liz Macalister before moving to Koinonia, I had been mentored into the anti-nuke movement by some of the best activists. Carter didn’t emphasize cutting the military budget, didn’t eschew nuclear energy plants, and was not known for taking a strong stance against the debacle of our war and policy on Vietnam in comparison to other candidates. Senator George McGovern was my candidate just four years prior and I still had hopes for that kind of political courage.

 

But there was an incident that made me realize that Carter did have some guts. Right in the middle of the campaign, July 4, 1976 was the Bicentennial of the Declaration of US Independence. But it also fell on a Sunday and many “Christian” churches unfortunately got swept up in a celebration of civil religion. Carter was in Plains that weekend and attended the services at his Plains Baptist Church. He was asked to give the opening prayer – and to be honest, it was the only redeeming part of a service which devolved into a “God Bless America” rally which assumed the “Prince of Peace” was now a cheerleader for the American way of life. (Soon after his inauguration, the Carters joined a new church down the road, Maranatha Baptist, founded specifically on a principle of racial inclusion as an expression of the gospel. Plains Baptist had quietly voted to continue its policy of “discouraging”, if not preventing the attendance of people of color at its services.)

 

During the campaign, Playboy Magazine ran an interview with Carter where he famously admitted to having “lusted in his heart”. What particularly interested us at Koinonia was the assertion of Carter’s support for the interracial community down the road, Koinonia Farm, during the racial tensions in the 1940s, 50s, 60s, … By the time the interview came out, Clarence Jordan, the co-founder of our community had been dead almost 7 years. Florence, his surviving widow was asked by reporters about details. She told them he didn’t make a public defense of the embattled community during the time of the attacks against it by the Klan and other white racists. However, it became clear a year later when the Ku Klux Klan held a rally just outside of Plains city limit in protest of Carter’s policies. (I was called to testify at a trial of the man who drove his car into the speaker’s platform to protest the KKK. Before taking the stand, I was sequestered in a room with the Imperial Wizard of the Klan, Bill Wilkinson. He was joking with the sheriff deputies and handing out his business cards to them.)

 

In December 1976, the President-elect welcomed many dignitaries to his modest home in Plains while he interviewed potential Cabinet members. Two of my friends, Phil Berrigan and Ladon Sheats traveled from their Catholic Worker House in Baltimore to outside his house in Plains to protest against Carter’s lack of opposition to nuclear weapons. I didn’t join them.

 

Soon after taking office, with Plains now becoming a destination on the map, a newspaper was started called The Plains Monitor to cover the news in Carter’s home county. Besides local news and news about the Carter family, it became an avenue for me to publish Letters to The Editor, commenting on national and international policy. They printed my open letter to President Carter on why I was withholding part of my income tax as a conscientious objector to our military budget. When Rosalynn Carter was asked to attend the keel laying of a new nuclear ballistic submarine carrying nuclear weapons in April 1979, I wrote a letter to the editor of why I was driving to Connecticut to risk arrest in protest. The paper later printed an article and photo about some school children from Plains school who traveled with me to the protest. (They and their parents were members of our community at Koinonia).

 

During Carter’s presidency, I got to know Miss Lillian better when we both attended Fellowship Baptist Church in Americus. When Plains Baptist refused to integrate, Miss Lillian sought out a local Baptist church which welcomed all and this small congregation (compared to the First Baptist Church of Americus) fit the bill for her. In Sunday School class she was often outspoken and clearly had a deep commitment to her faith. The church also tolerated my statements during announcement time when I asked for prayers before getting arrested at the submarine dedication or when I refused to pay war taxes. The fact that the pastor and his wife and several other members of the church attended my wedding in 1978 at Koinonia showed their willingness to be public about their witness for racial inclusion.

 

Because of all the attention now being paid to the small town of barely 650 people that was home to a US President, and possibly due to the efforts of the new First Lady, Plains opened the Plains Primary Healthcare Clinic just across the street from the train depot, the former campaign headquarters. It was a welcome addition to this small town where healthcare resources particularly for many of the local Black residents was sorely lacking. And they were looking to hire a local nurse as part of the staff. Christine jumped at the opportunity and worked there for several years. Big crowds often developed when the President was in town, so any extra infrastructure was welcome. The local gas station now hawked cans of “Billy Beer”, named after Jimmy’s brother who was well known for his love of that beverage.  

 

As the end of his first term approached, several crises loomed: a Soviet invasion into Afghanistan to prop up a failing socialist-leaning government, the Americans held hostage by a revolutionary movement in Iran after Carter allowed the former Shah to receive medical treatment in the US, inflation, gas shortages, … Then an intra-party struggle led by Senator Ted Kennedy to challenge him for the nomination of the Democratic Party found the President looking for ways to shore up his standing. He called for a boycott of the summer Olympics scheduled for Moscow, and to appear less weak against his militaristic Republican opponent, he reinstated mandatory registration for the US Military draft for all males ages 18-26 who had not previously served in the military. As a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War, I decided to write President Carter a letter refusing to register. I did not include in the letter the fact that I was past the age of requirement, only that for reasons of religious belief and conscience I was publicly refusing. It wasn’t until after he was soundly defeated by Ronald Reagan that I received a formal reply – a letter from the Department of Justice stating the consequences if my refusal continued: I think it was 5 years in jail and a fine. I received several other letters the next year or two before two FBI agents showed up at the Koinonia office asking to interview me. I told them I would continue to refuse to register and politely declined to tell them my Social Security number, my mother’s maiden name, or my birthdate. After about ½ hour, the one agent said to the other, “he appears to be older than 26 to me so I think we needn’t continue [with pursuing a prosecution for draft evasion].”

 

But it was in his post-presidency where I met him outside his role as a candidate. Our intentional community, Koinonia, was also the birthplace for Habitat for Humanity. After he was out of office, whenever he was in Plains, Jimmy taught Sunday School at his Maranatha Baptist Church. Christine was close friends of a Hutterite couple, having spent a month at their community in North Dakota in the early 70’s. When Solomon and Sarah Maendel came to Americus to lend their skills and labor to the growing Habitat movement, they chose to attend Jimmy’s Sunday School sessions. After several weeks, and noticing their peculiar dress, the former president invited them to join him and Rosalynn for lunch after church. Jimmy remarked that as President, he found Quakers and Mennonites who served overseas to be some of the best sources for information about what the people thought about US foreign policy. Hutterites, being cousins of Mennonites (and more easily identified because of their distinctive dress), intrigued him. Solomon told Jimmy about his work with Habitat, and, as only someone who eschewed voting, scolded the former president for not being involved with Habitat and its work. The next day Jimmy called Millard Fuller to ask how he might be involved.

 

In 1983 when the Carters became “involved” with Habitat, they were quite generous with both their time and talents. They even joined an awareness and fundraising walk for Habitat’s 10th anniversary from Americus to Kansas City in 1986. Christine and I only walked the first 8 miles to Plains – but we had a friend, Carolyn Schurr who walked all 1000 miles with the Carters and others, staying in churches en route overnight. Ten years later, on the 20th anniversary, I helped build the house next to the one the Carter’s worked on during a “blitz build” in Americus. Jimmy was always one of the first workers on site in the morning and didn’t quit early. When reporters came by to talk with them, he suggested they talk to the new homebuyers so he could continue to work. He was skilled and dedicated and used his “star-power” to bring many others to worksites as volunteers.

 

In the mid-1980s he often came by our farm community to give greetings to Florence Jordan and have tea with her. It was hard to miss the Secret Service agents milling about as he visited. He even detoured on a planned trip to China to stop by to pay his respects to the co-founder of Koinonia when she died in 1986. At the request of some Partners who regularly attended his Sunday School class, Jimmy agreed to speak at one of Koinonia’s worship services which always took place on Sunday evenings. While I admired all that he had done for Habitat and other projects in his post-presidency, I couldn’t help but reflect that this man had also threatened to use nuclear weapons against the Soviets. So, after he spoke, I wrote him a letter describing the tensions I felt. I addressed him as “a brother in Christ” and shared my discomfort on this particular issue. He sent me a card back suggesting I read his recent book where he described how he tried to put his faith into action during his presidency. I had already read that book and noticed how his chapter on standing up to the Russians was devoid of references to Jesus’ teaching on loving our enemies. We also had strong disagreement about his acceptance of the Death Penalty at that time but over the years, he came to agree with Rosalynn and began to call for its abolition.

 

One thing I was grateful for was his willingness to use his “celebrity” status to help even “minor” causes. The public school system in Sumter County was woefully underfunded as many of the white citizens send their children to a private, segregated “Christian” school and then elected school board members who tried to keep taxes low. In the mid-80s, the local school in Plains decided to have a Festival to raise funds for classrooms, supplies, and other needs. Koinonia was invited to have a stand to sell our organic strawberries with fresh whipped cream. But the big attraction was a free concert Jimmy initiated on the school grounds featuring his friend Willy Nelson. At the end of the wonderful event, Jimmy and Rosalynn joined Willy on the stage to sing “Amazing Grace”.

 

Jimmy was proud of his hometown and often joined events to support it. One event that sticks out in my mind included a 5K run for children out of town and then circling back to a finish line right by the train depot. Our oldest son was encouraged to run by the son of a friend from Habitat who loved running. Micah was not known (at that time) as a distance runner but we were shocked when he placed third, ahead of his friend Josh and was awarded a trophy by the former president. When he got off the stage, we remarked that we were surprised he did better than his friend. Micah told us, “Well I got tired and stopped running once we got out of town and just ran back to the finish when the others returned.” Needless to say, we asked him to go back to the stage and return the trophy so the proper kid could receive it!

 

I never did vote for Jimmy Carter. In the primary I supported Jerry Brown. In the general elections of 1976 and 1980, I wrote in Daniel Berrigan for President. But, reflecting back after all these years, Jimmy Carter did more good as President than any others in my lifetime. As he passes on to become one of our ancestors, I’m grateful for his life and witness, warts and all.