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Why Darfur Matters The Reverend Mark Edmiston-Lange, January 28, 2007 Reading I. Acts 17: “Now while Paul was waiting in Athens, some of the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers met him. And some said, “What would this babbler say?” Others said, “He seems to be a preacher of foreign divinities” because he preached Jesus and the resurrection. And they took hold of him and brought him to the Areopagus, saying: May we know what this new teaching is which you present?” For you bring some strange things to our ears; we wish to know therefore what these things mean.” Now all the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there spent their time in nothing except telling or hearing something new. So Paul, standing in the middle of the Areopagus, said: Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious. For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription, ‘To an unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything since he himself gives to all men life and breath and everything. And he made from one every nation of men to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their habitation, that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel after him and find him. Yet he is not far from each one of us, for ‘In him we live and move and have our being;’ as even some of your poets have said, ‘For we are indeed his offspring.’” Reading Ojibway Prayer: “Grandfather, look at our brokenness. We know that in all creation only the human familyhas strayed from the sacred way. We know that we are the ones who are divided, and we are the ones who must come back together to walk in the sacred way. Grandfather, Sacred one, teach us love, compassion, and honor that we may heal the Earth—and heal each other.” Sermon Darfur is a region in western Sudan, a country bordered on the north by Egypt, on the west by Chad and the Central African Republic, on the east by Ethiopia and the Red Sea, and on the south by the Democratic Republic of Congo and Uganda. Up until the last decade Sudan was not well known to westerners. Perhaps you had heard of the Nubian Desert or the meeting of the Blue and While Nile Rivers at the city of Khartoum. Unnoticed by most in the west, Sudan’s well being had been wrecked by years of civil war from 1955 to the early 90’s with only a brief 10 year respite between 1972 and 1983. A lasting peace agreement between those warring parties took place in 1995. Those long civil wars were brought about by the fact that Southern Sudan is inhabited by Black African Christian and Animist tribes while the north is inhabited by Arabic Muslim tribes. When the country became independent of British and Egyptian rule in 1956 the two different populations, never having a good record of co-operation, sought to be free of each other’s influence and presence. That period of strife crippled Sudan. But the newer struggle, in Darfur, is different. While the region had always seen its share of sporadic conflict between the three main tribal groups, the eruption of intense violence in 2003 took on a new form. And this time, the major difference in the warring parties is not religion, but more a way of life. All of the warring parties are Islamic, the tribal farmers, the Janjaweed nomadic herders, and the Sudanese government. It is important to understand that the vast majority of people in this fight have no desire to be in a fight. Between two and three million civilians have been displaced, almost all within Sudan, herded into refugee camps where they become easy targets for Sudanese soldiers, militiamen, and rebel fighters. The rebel leaders come from the farming tribes who feel that the government in Khartoum has not been responsive to their plight. The Janjaweed nomads have been armed by the government in Khartoum in hopes of putting down the rebellion but the Janjaweed have acted like a militia more than a disciplined military force, slaughtering civilians on a whim and driving people into making desperate choices. Starvation and deadly illness are very common. Last year, it is conservatively estimated, 64,000 people died. The government of Sudan is complicit in this slaughter. They have refused to support the work of international aid agencies in providing food and medical care to the refugees. While several agencies had been active in the area, many now are gone because the staff cannot be protected. It has become common for aid workers to be raped or otherwise brutalized. The government of Sudan has refused the assistance of the United Nations in brokering a peace agreement. Gov. Richardson of New Mexico recently personally intervened to broker a peace agreement—which, however, has not taken effect — and it now seems unlikely it will. The African Union has offered assistance, but government of Sudan has only allowed token forces into the country—and they are prohibited from protecting civilians. The government of China has intervened in the form of being the major source of income and armaments. China has the rights to Sudan’s oil fields. Western nations, by contrast, have for some time been very reluctant to enter into business arrangements with the government of Sudan because of its terrible human rights record. Sudan is a horrifying mess. If there was a hell on earth, its name would be Darfur. Even though Darfur is 7,500 miles away from Houston, only those with a heart of stone could not feel sorrowful, or perhaps angry, about this grave tragedy. But what should or could any of us do about it? I have two different kinds of recommendations. One’s straightforward, the other is considerably more complex. We’ll start with the obvious responses that you and I can make. The most important thing to do is simply become more knowledgeable about the conflict. While it is a very complex tragedy, its features are not unknowable. Simple facts, such as I have outlined in the beginning, are easy enough to obtain. And simple facts are powerful. Much of the bad stuff that goes on in places such as Darfur occurs because the bad guys don’t believe that anyone is paying that much attention. I, for one, am unwilling to allow these bad actors to so easily wreck havoc simply because they imagine no one is watching. Second, once you know something, speak up when and where you can. You might think that no one is going to pay attention to what you say in Houston, Texas, but you can readily assist other speakers, particularly in this case, our own Unitarian Universalist Service Committee, a partner of the Save Darfur Alliance, a coalition of over a 100 different agencies, which has been consistently insistent that something must be done. You will notice that we have been very considerate in providing you with a means to accomplish that simple task of support by placing envelopes in this Sunday’s bulletin into which you can place some voice enhancing cash. You can also send letters to the powers that be in Congress. You can write a letter to the editor. You can tell your neighbor. Be blunt in your wording. Use phrases like, “state sanctioned murder.” You just might work yourself up into a nearly justifiable state of righteous indignation. You notice I said, “nearly.” We have at this point exhausted the list of simple straightforward things that one could do. From here on out it gets a little bit more complicated. I have thus far merely assumed that, presented with a set of facts about a tragedy, you would want to do something. And many of you would want to respond. But it is also important to ask, Why? This is a very crucial question. Understanding our reasons, our motivations, for responding makes a tremendous difference in the effectiveness of the response. And the history of Emerson Unitarian Universalist Church’s involvement in social justice provides some guidance regarding motivation. The short form of that history at Emerson is one of resistance to taking corporate stands on causes or issues. Because of that resistance Emerson has something of a reputation for being lackluster when it comes to responding to matters of social justice. I should point out that at least from my perspective, that reputation is entirely undeserved. Much of our response takes the form of financial support for agencies, but no small part of it also takes the form of hands on efforts. Every year just about one quarter of our congregation takes an active role in personally assisting some agency or effort in Houston and beyond. And almost everyone participates in events like the UNICEF Carnival, contributions for the food bank, and gifts for the mentally ill. We are no slouches when it comes to actually getting things accomplished. Even so, there is a portion of the congregation that wishes we could be a more forceful voice in the community. That desire was expressed just last week when the congregation voted to support the Drug Court Foundation with a loan of $50,000. But on the other side of the fence is a portion of the congregation that is concerned about “group think.” We are, as a whole, a pretty feisty bunch of independent thinkers—and that is all to the good. There is also a concern about what might be termed “knee-jerk” responses to requests for doing good. While some of that suspicion may be unwarranted—I don’t believe it is fair or wise to discount that suspicion. A religious community is not the same thing as a social justice organization. Surely we should be intent on not only saying the right thing but also doing the right thing. However, our overarching purpose is not composed entirely of responding to the world of hurt that exists without and within. While many of us will feel that we must do “something,” we need to be very careful that the “something” we do accomplishes more than satisfying our own need to do something. At the very least I have within myself questioned whether my own sense of righteousness was in reality a thinly disguised form of self-righteousness. While the former can be attractive and useful, the latter is just as destructive as the wrong that is supposed to be righted. There is something emotionally satisfying about pointing out the supposed idiocy of those with opposing views or of pointing a finger at “them that done wrong.” I myself have gotten into a veritable froth from time to time. Here’s the rub, that delicious feeling of being “right” about others being so wrong is exactly the feeling that the African farmers of Darfur, the government of Sudan, and the Arab Janjaweed nomads of Darfur experience. Thankfully we don’t break out the ammo here, but the distinction may be only one of quantity, not quality. We would like to think that we would stop well short of murdering our opponents in a debate but the pathway from minor insults to high caliber rifles is littered with discarded good intentions. The probability of unreasonable escalation is particularly probable when we add one element to the mix. That element is—changes in weather patterns in north Africa have led to an increased frequency of drought. This is one result of global warming. The net result is that the Sahara Desert continues to move farther south and east, devouring more land each and every day. The African farmers and the Arab nomadic Janjaweed had been able for centuries to find a way to share the resources of Darfur. Now those resources are becoming scarce. One could therefore ask, “Is this what human beings do, engage in protracted brutality, when environmental stress causes scarcity of the necessary resources for life?” The answer is, unfortunately, yes. And, while this may seem harsh, I am not very convinced that, given the same sort of stress, you and I under the same conditions, would fare that much better. While I might readily trust everyone who is in this room to behave more rationally, Houston itself does not lack for bad actors who could set the ball rolling into chaos. As I said, the overwhelming majority of people in Darfur do not want to fight. They would try something different—if they had a chance. Just so, you and I would try something different, if we had a chance. Would we have that chance? That question, “Would we have the chance?” might suggest to you that what is happening in Darfur is in fact a situation which is imperative to correct, not solely because of the terrible human misery which is being encountered every day, but also because, if we cannot figure out a different outcome there, than maybe we ought to start stocking up on the ammo here. In short, if you think we do not have a dog in this hunt, I believe you are mistaken. We are the people of Darfur. What makes the misery in Darfur all the more maddening is that horticulturalists in Khartoum have figured out a way to grow millet, the primary food staple, in the increasingly arid conditions that afflict the region. But it is very hard to grow much of anything with so many bullets flying around. It boggles the mind to think of the absolute waste and carnage that could be avoided entirely if people sat down and simply added up the numbers. Admittedly, growing millet is not as immediately gratifying as firing off a couple of rounds from an AK-47, but every bullet that is fired is another bushel of millet not grown. The government of Sudan knows this, and should be susceptible to reasoned arguments. They have not been. Why? Well, sweet reason’s success at resolving such disputes does not have a very good track record. What then might restore order and success in Darfur? I used one reading this morning that would not be on anyone’s list for a sermon about a justice issue. But I read from Paul’s address to the Athenians as illustrative of the kind of problem all of us, Sudanese and Houstonians alike, face. A little history. During Paul’s time, Greece, whose cultural center was Athens, was ruled by the government in Rome. The Grecians did not like it, but also knew there wasn’t much they could do about it. The Roman Empire ruled everything in sight. There was for a time, a Pax Romana in which the entire Mediterranean basin was free of sustained conflict. Romans had come to think of themselves as the initiators of a world culture. Of course, the reality of such a universality depended entirely upon the use of overwhelming force. Once the force receded, the universality dissipated, as it did in the third century of the common era. It turns out that what the Romans had achieved, while remarkable, was still only a very robust version of a very old strategy—one tribe dominating another. But what was even more remarkable than the Roman conquest was the conquest by Paul. He had no legion bristling with arms, he had no trireme. What he had was far more powerful, an entirely new strategy for achieving a universal culture, a strategy in which belief trumped nationality or tribal identity. As Paul told the Athenians, “We are all children of one God.” The message hit home so that while Rome exhausted itself in defending its troublesome boundaries, Paul’s new universality spread. People began to think of themselves as Christians first, and Romans or Greeks or Egyptians and so on second. Whether he intended it or not Paul created the potential for human cooperation that made us human beings more adept at crossing boundaries previously thought to be insurmountable. There was no way to turn a Greek into a Roman, but both could quite easily become Christians. It was an ingenious solution to an intractable problem—how do people find ways to see beyond the boundaries that divide them so that they can cooperate on solving the problems that beset both? But as solutions go, it has, over time, itself been found to be wanting. Christendom eventually re-fractured into a thousand different parties. And in time, Islam would rise to form yet a whole different means of inter-tribal affiliation, yet which like Christianity, has itself re-fractured into many different parties. But our question may be, is there a way by which we can find a way of transcending even these barriers? Somebody will most likely have to play sheriff in Sudan, and your contributions will only increase the possibility that some overwhelming force will ride into town and make everybody play nicely. But make no mistake, the sheriff solution is only a short term solution. As the Romans found, forcing everyone to behave is over time a losing strategy. Instead of only relying upon force, is it possible to discover a basis for cooperation and being able to imagine an identity of interest and fortune. Can we, like Paul discern something that brings us all to the same table? The answer must be yes. And this congregation, Emerson Unitarian Universalist Church of Houston Texas and proud of it, must be about the task of lifting that universality aloft. We, who have a tradition of not resting easy with partisan answers must rise above all that we imagine divides us, not by forcing us all to somehow agree on particular solutions to individual problems or social woes, but in seeing that our unity eclipses absolutely every barrier we imagine divides us. That is our spiritual purpose as a congregation. Our reality as a faith community must be determined, not solely by our capacity to respond to emergencies as they arise, but more urgently by our living out a gospel of hope that would build a world of transcendent cooperation in which such tragedies are forestalled. You might ask yourself, where will we find such a gospel? Perhaps the best place to look is into the teeth of the universal crisis which all people everywhere face, global environmental damage. It is now, and probably has been for some time, imperative that we begin thinking of ourselves, we notoriously busy and fractious human beings, in a new light, as all children of one beautiful blue green spinning earth. Christ is Lord and Allah be praised, but the earth is all. The United States is mighty and the Swiss make great watches, but the earth is incomparably mighty and great. Where else can we turn? What other home can we build? What other reality is so ever present? Our relationship to the earth is inescapable and our impact upon it is unavoidable. The earth’s breath crosses all boundaries without so much as a nanosecond of consideration for passports or baggage inspection. We propose, we make suggestions, we try out mighty works, but in each and every case earth always has the last word. We probably ought to pay better attention. It turns out those old Ojibway were right, we are the ones who must come back together to walk in the sacred way that we may heal our transgressions and thus heal each other. Of course, the Ojibway could only see the great earth from where they stood. They imagined that there must be a great spirit, Grandfather, who inhabited the vast sky above. Well, we have been to that sky and have found out it is very very empty. But when we turned around from our perch in orbit and saw from above our lovely Earth entire, we suddenly knew—Grandfather spirit—it was Mother Earth. And then we knew, we are all, absolutely everyone single one of us, her children. |
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