Ineighth grade, I had a pen-pal. Her name was Tatjana and she lived in Zagreb, Croatia. Although she was a couple of years older than me, we wrote fairly regularly for a year or so. She had a mother and a father; she had a steady boyfriend with whom she was very much in love; she took piano lessons.
In retrospect, one letter stands out distinctly from the rest. In this, she wrote me of the civil strife that was beginning to divide her country, Yugoslavia.
Today, Yugoslavia no longer exists. In its place are war and ethnic cleansing, rape and murder. There are human rights violations beyond the scope of reason and human atrocities beyond the capacity for understanding.
And I wonder, as I conjure up an image of the small black-and-white photograph she once sent me, Does Tatjana still exist?
On Monday, "The New York Times" reported that the war in Bosnia had escalated to the point of spilling over into Croatia's capital, Zagreb, and Krajina, the Serb-held region of Croatia.
One Croatian man was quoted as saying, "Our religion says if someone hits you with a stone, hit him with bread. I say if someone hits you with a stone, hit him with a piece of iron."
And I wonder, as the conjured up image of Tatjana's photograph flashes before my eyes, When will the hatred cease?
The United Nations peace-keeping tactics have been largely unsuccessful in Bosnia. The hate remains alive and flourishing, as is evidenced by the Croatians in Zagreb who seem to be anticipating rather eagerly the battle with the Serbs in Krajina.
What are we to do? Drop a bomb?
Fifty years ago this Sunday, that is indeed what we did. On Aug. 6, 1945, the United States dropped a nuclear bomb on Hiroshima. And the rest, as the saying goes, is history.
I prefer to think of it as mythology. As in, creating the myth that bombarding a city with nuclear weapons does any good whatsoever.
This Sunday, the 50th anniversary of the bombing in Japan is, not coincidentally, also Peace Day. According to the New Hampshire Peace Action Group, Peace Day is an informal day which serves to remind us all what can happen when we are not vigilant.
The June, 1995 issue of the NH Peace Action News newsletter reports that over 90 percent of all war casualties are now civilian, as opposed to 90 percent military casualties at the beginning of this century. In this light, dropping a nuclear bomb over Bosnia does not seem quite the answer. Shall we add to the growing number of innocent casualties? Shall we heighten the destruction and despair?
For Tatjana and her family, the nightmare world in which they now live could do without the added devastating effects of nuclear weapons.
This raises another rather apropos question: Why, with all the negative ramifications, does the Republican budget proposal insist on increasing the nuclear weaponry in our midst in the next seven years? Insofar as nuclear technology goes, we have enough to decimate the earth a few times over.
Adding more to this pile seems especially pointless when we shed light on the destructive nature of its possible uses in wartime. Meanwhile, the increase in nuclear funding is contemporaneous with the slashing of education, arts and social programs.
Nonetheless, a political commentary on the state of our nation seems less in order than a call to remember our human commonality.
This Friday, the Physicians for Social Responsibility is holding its tenth annual vigil from 7 to 8 a.m. on Ledyard Bridge in Hanover. If nothing else, the horrifying war in Bosnia can help us reflect on what it would truly mean to achieve harmony across the globe.
Individually, we can begin to turn towards peace by taking time out to gain some perspective on our own world and the world at large. Attending the vigil will show support for a world-wide effort for peace -- in Bosnia and everywhere.
As the Croats in Zagreb and the Serbs in Krajina gear up to begin killing each other in this never-ending battle of hatred, I wonder whether Tatjana is alive to see her friends go off to war.
Senseless.
And I wonder, when will we learn that fighting is not the solution? When will we cease to use rape, murder and destruction as the answer to our problems?
Peace Day is Aug. 6. Pause in a moment of silence for those like Tatjana, who may live today but sadly, can be gone tomorrow. Take a moment to realize that only peace, and never hatred, is the answer.
