Nationalism and its discontents... or an open letter

Yes, if I could leave the planet, I would. Because no matter what, under any circumstances, people are just horrible to one another, there is no escaping it. Even if they pertain to the same imagined community. Benedetti's Capitán knows, he says to Pedro: "Usted sí puede aguantarlo, porque tiene en qué creer, tiene a qué asirse. Yo no." And Pedro knows that the only way to survive is to dig one's own grave, to be a dead man, to hold fast to the ideal. Something to believe in, the one scrap of power, your "no". And I wish that I believed in something, that there were something else left to believe in, but it all seems so hopeless, and impossible, like every model for change has been stretched to its limit and snapped. Then I remember that change can only happen from within, and radical is in the eyes of the beholder, and that maybe the only thing we can do is in our art, and in our teaching, and in our "no". In our stubborn refusal to accept the status quo, or to fear their wiretaps, or to censor our speech. I want to say to my "fearless leader" and those with whom he conspires: even if you don't pull the trigger, you are still the assassin, even if you don't take your booted foot to another man's genitals, you are the still the torturer, even if you don't violate a woman's womb, you are still the rapist, even if you don't rip bread from the mouth of babes, you are still the thief, even if you don't drop the bombs, you are still the terrorist. And I want you to know that God, if there is one (which is dubious), isn't on your side just because you say that it is so.

(some inspirational words from Sinead O'Connor, apropos this particular topic)