Strange, what memories these irrational days conjure up from one’s treasure trove. Take betrayals, for instance, some large, some almost too slight to be mentioned, such as my seventh-grade experience decades ago.

There was this girl in my grade, but not in my classes, for we had a departmental arrangement, and she was on a slower track. Slower or not, if I didn’t envy her her beauty, wealth, and House Beautiful estate, I came mighty close to doing so. When she invited me to her home for lunch on a school day, I couldn’t wait to tell my mother, brother and sisters. They were delighted over my anticipation of entering High Society.

My best friend had a different reaction:

With determination, I put aside any doubts about Marjorie’s intention, and walked home with her on the appointed Friday. Her mother had set a lovely table for lunch.

Accustomed as she was to entertaining the movers and shakers in town, Mrs. Adams (not her real name) didn’t hesitate for a minute, after we had finished dessert, to suggest that we retire to the living room where I might want to review some questions from the geography test for her daughter.

I was angry with myself for having been taken in, despite my friend’s warning. I was angry with the mother for attempting to profit by my good will, angry with Marjorie for thinking she could use me in that way. The honor code was alive and well in our school; passing on questions to tests was considered a betrayal to one’s self and one’s classmates. I quietly told Marjorie I couldn’t help her, and headed back to school.

When I told my mother later, she understood my sense of betrayal, but reminded me that I hadn’t betrayed myself, and that was what mattered most. She also mentioned that there are more important possessions than beauty or wealth, nice clothes or a mansion set on five acres of manicured lawn. I began to feel sorry for Marjorie, and had I not been so intimidated by all that wealth, might have become her friend and tutored her on weekends, so she wouldn’t need to cheat to pass tests. But I couldn’t gain entre into her world without a second invitation, and that never came.

Today, I feel betrayed again, this time in a matter of life and death, betrayed by having been forced into this war as an American citizen, unable to absent myself from what amounted to a deadly political luncheon, where only the hosts spoke; the guests were present to pick up the tab.

Yet, we are not alone; shared concerns make brothers and sisters of strangers. A week ago, I was with a group of Peace and Justice pilgrims, who raised my spirits, as we spoke of other alternatives to nation-building than bombs and missiles. We prayed together, shared a meal together, and listened to a band echoing the hope in our hearts.

What helps even more is to find courageous voices in the media willing to speak for us who have no voice, such as Paul Krugman in the April 29 issue of The New York Times. Krugman reports that the British newspaper, The Independent, stated that the “intelligence agencies on both sides of the Atlantic were furious that briefings they gave political leaders were distorted in the rush to war.” (Italics, mine)

Krugman goes on to relate this strange incident: In September, President Bush stated that an International Atomic Energy Agency report showed that Saddam was only months from having nuclear weapons. “I don’t know what more evidence we need,” the president said.

Krugman goes on to state that the report said no such thing, and, for a while, MSNBC’s White House Web site headline read: ” Bush Misstated Report on Iraq.” Then, the story vanished – not just from the top of the page, but from the site.

It is Krugman’s conviction that “a democracy’s decisions, right or wrong, are supposed to take place with the informed consent of its citizens. That didn’t happen this time. And we are a democracy – aren’t we?”

Personally, it seems to me we are becoming more like a fascist state at an alarming rate of speed, while we spend billions to bring democracy to Iraq. A friend has sent me the following piece from Germany’s history, well worth pondering:

Hermann Goering, Hitler’s deputy, said at his 1946 Nuremberg War Crimes trial: “Why, of course the people don’t want war. Naturally. That is understood. But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the peacemakers for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.”

Has it worked here? Have we been betrayed by our own?

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