People in Kafranbel, Syria, protest the Assad regime. Credit: Creative Commons/FreedomHouse.
Syria, Syria – I spied you from the Golan decades back, caught site of Quneitra’s soft outline,
remembered then Damascus, city of rabbis, bishops, imams, of Paul’s blinding moment on the way.
Now I mourn with you as armed men contend for your soul,
some wanting freedom, others unholy conformity while a tyrant lets you bleed and bleed,
lets children dwell in fear sans food, sans school, sans hope.
I will not dispel you from my thoughts, Syria,
though your agony challenges God and men, statesmen and scholars, mothers and saints.
I will argue with the Absolute over you – why such pain to the innocent?
I will pray and hope for an end to your bleak night,
I will advocate for peace in small ways with humble pleas to the powerful,
I will support the caregivers on your sad and savaged ground – as will so many.
I will not forget you, Syria, will not stop aching for you.
Benjamin J. Hubbard is a professor emeritus of comparative religion at Cal State Fullerton.
When dictatorships start to crumble, they crumble hard and violently. The Assad family and his clan have delivered grief to the general population for decades. When you think about the blow back think about the laws of physics. The greater action, the greater the reaction. 90,000 dead. The great Rabbi Lerner remains silent.
Ben, that is a radiant statement. Thank you for so eloquently expressing what is in so many of our hearts as we contemplate the miserable situation in Syria (and, of course, elsewhere).
Hi Ben–This is touching and contemplative. I’ll be thinking about this poem for quite a while.