Commentary: “Why Goliath Lost”
by
Kevin C. Morris
Six months ago, as many of us watched the American Airlines jet slam mercilessly into the Pentagon, I frantically called my father, a theology professor who lived and taught in northern Virginia, less than three miles from there. After assuring me that all was well with the family, he left me with three Biblical words: "five smooth stones" to ponder as I sought to sort through the broader moral implications of the emerging crisis. Five smooth stones were the tiny weapons gathered by the diminutive David of the Israelites in preparation for battle with the all powerful, almighty Philistine giant Goliath. Using this historic parable, my prescient padre pointed out the central problem facing our country: the arrogance of its unprecedented power. Six months later his quiet lesson screams like a siren in the dead of night. While still fighting an unfinished war in Afghanistan and promising military conflicts elsewhere into perpetuity, earth's sole superpower stands majestically astride the globe, economically and militarily invincible, self-righteous and, in the aftermath of 9-11, justifiably aroused with anger. But every action this administration has taken unveils its arrogant lust for power, which, like Goliath, may trigger its tragic downfall. Not surprisingly, we have gone from eliciting great sympathy and support from our allies and even former enemies, to evoking derisive reprimands from some world leaders after Bush's comical comments on the "axis of evil." And by unilaterally and arbitrarily dividing the world into forces of good and bad, Bush, in just six short months, has alienated our European friends; agitated the entire Islamic world; brought India and Pakistan to the brink of nuclear war; fanned a flaming civil war in Columbia; placed American soldiers in the Philippines, Georgia and Yemen; threatened to attack Iraq; neglected the explosive situation in the Middle East; abrogated our long-standing ABM Treaty with Russia; and begun planning the use of nuclear strikes against such disparate states as Syria, Libya, China, North Korea, Iran and even Russia. In recent days, our military leaders have begun to gloat at the mounting number of kills. And like the swollen alien plant in The Little Shop of Horrors, America is demanding more and more blood and ordering the entire world to "FEED ME!" Drunk on the delusion of our moral superiority and unrestrained by an equal foe, we have set infinite global goals, committed limitless resources as our hegemonic hunger seems to worsen with the death count. Highlighting the danger of the arrogance of power, the late Sen. J. William Fulbright warned in 1966, at the height of our last Asian war, of the "tendency of great nations to equate power with virtue." Inescapably, historic amnesia has emerged as a prime symptom of our arrogant self-delusion. We have conveniently erased our own evil deeds from the hard drive of history. All traces of our imperial brutality have been heaped haphazardly and unrepentantly on the trash pile of history. Unfortunately, this drunken arrogance is being imposed not only outwardly, but also internally here at home as well. Elected political leaders are being pilloried for expressing the mildest forms of dissent. Secrecy, silence, subterfuge and shadow governments have become the order of the day. And Attorney General John Ashcroft, the teetotalling, tit-tensed tenor from Missouri has turned this war on terrorism into his personal jihad against civil and religious liberties in America. As we trudge mindlessly into this minefield of absurdity, I again return to Sen. Fulbright in his book The Arrogance of Power as he reflected on America's role in Viet Nam: "I question the ability of the United States...to go into a small, alien, underdeveloped Asian nation and create stability where there is chaos...democracy where there is no tradition of it and honest government where corruption is almost a way of life. Our handicap is well expressed in the pungent Chinese proverb: 'In shallow waters dragons become the sport of shrimps.'" Funded by the largest military budget in all of history, we have become the world's fire breathing dragon of the 21st century. And though we are feared, we are not respected by the vast populations of this globe — and fear begets resentment. And resentment, revolution. Therefore, as we mark the half-year since our great tragedy, we should as a nation consider the wisest use of our military might and economic power. We should heed Fulbright's admonition to America to "bring itself to act with the magnanimity and the empathy appropriate to its size and power, and be an intelligent example to the world." Or will we more likely take the path Goliath took as he strode confidently toward little David, the shepherd with the five smooth stones and the confidence that giants will fall?