By Diane & Mike Leutgeb Munson
In our regular vigils at the National Guard Armory in Winona, we choose to use the banner “Works of Mercy Not Works of War” as our primary declaration. This message is a basic one, encompassing the principles from which the Catholic Worker was originally born. It seems simple for passersby to grasp and even easier for us to explain. Our struggle to live out the works of mercy on a daily basis at our houses of hospitality is a clear one. So, too is our belief that violence, especially that perpetuated by the military industrial complex, is never a solution. Thus active personalism is the path we attempt to follow.
Within this slogan that we have embraced so fully exist ideals that we regularly reexamine and yet strongly believe. The works of mercy are not only a set of moral guidelines that we choose to hold, but are in fact the basis of personalism. The works of mercy require that we connect with other human beings in a basic, sincere manner, and in doing so we strive to improve our own lives and the lives of those around us. They demand that we leave bureaucracy and protocol at the door, abandoning the social, racial, gender and class-based advantages we too often cling to. The works of mercy require us to humble ourselves enough to truly feel the suffering of others, to walk with the hungry, naked, and imprisoned far enough to be able to see God in their midst.
The works of war ask us, as citizens and as a nation, to completely abandon personalism. In order to have the ability to kill another, we must first remove their humanity, the traits that make “them” like “us.” As we hear of the deaths of dozens of “insurgents” each day, our mind’s eye provides us with images of people who are less intelligent, religious fanatics, living a life of savagery in a landscape we have never seen. We could not, and will not, fight people who look and think and speak like we do. War must be impersonal, which is why wars are often decided and waged by the leaders of large government structures. Naomi Klein, an investigative journalist, once said, “Those who profit most from war are never near the battlefield.”
Our political system is not conducive to stopping the works of war, a reality that is exemplified by the current election year process. As political candidates make mention of eventual troop withdrawal, we know that our military presence in Iraq is indefinite, due to the permanent U.S. bases that have been constructed in the last five years of the occupation. There is a blinding hesitancy to speak the truth about war and our reliance on it, economically and culturally. The jobs created by our need for vehicles, weapons, armor and supplies in Iraq keep individuals and communities afloat in an uncertain time. Our elected officials are keenly aware of the advantages of being at war for national morale and economic growth. War has long been a political tool, used by various administrations and countless rulers both here and abroad. Real voices do not often reach the minds and hearts of our elected leaders with the same force that real money does.
Unfortunately, the utter lack of personalism in war leaves soldiers and their families, victims and their families in dire need of the works of mercy. Soldiers are returning to our country daily, wounded physically and emotionally from battles waged in our name. We are proud of their sacrifices and terrified of the scars that have been left in our young people. The works of mercy have never been easy, but they seem to be all the more painstaking when we are called to care for those suffering from the Effects of war, which we so strongly oppose. Unfortunately, we too support our troops, but here in our houses of hospitality, most of our support comes post-war—when all the flags have stopped waving, the counselors have stopped listening, the memories have continued raging, and the bottle becomes the only solution. It is then that we cry, more fervently than ever, “Works of Mercy, Not Works of War.”