ADAPTATION OF DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING’S EULOGY FOR PESHAWAR SCHOOL SLAUGHTER “I cannot understand why these parents are protesting against me? The CEO/ CM of the province is Khattak, the School is under Army management, so why blame me?” Imran Khan speaking to media after parents protested against him/ PTI on the opening day, January 15, of APS, Peshawar, where 130 children were mercilessly slaughtered by Pakistani Taliban on December 16, 2014. A leader of a different time, space, and caliber understood exactly and knew how to relate and what to say to the most unfortunate parents and nation. Following is my failed attempt to adapt and paraphrase Martin Luther King, Jr. (PBUH) Eulogy for the Young Victims of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church Bombing, delivered at Sixth Avenue Baptist Church on 18 September 1963 Birmingham, Alabama, USA. [Delivered at funeral service for three of the children—Addie Mae Collins, Carol Denise McNair, and Cynthia Diane Wesley—killed in the bombing. A separate service was held for the fourth victim, Carole Robertson.] This afternoon we gather in the quiet of this sanctuary to pay our last tribute of respect to these beautiful children of God. They entered the stage of history just a few years ago, and in the brief years that they were privileged to act on this mortal stage, they played their parts exceedingly well. Now the curtain falls; they move through the exit; the drama of their earthly life comes to a close. They are now committed back to that eternity from which they came. These children—unoffending, innocent, and beautiful—were the victims of one of the most vicious and tragic crimes ever perpetrated against humanity. And yet they died nobly. They are the martyred heroes of a holy war for freedom and human dignity. And so this afternoon in a real sense they have something to say to each of us in their death. They have something to say to every Qari (Reciter) of the Quran who has remained silent behind the safe security of Mosque, Madrassa, and Imam Bargah. They have something to say to every local and national politician who has fed his constituents with the stale bread of oppression and the spoiled meat of deceit and exploitation. They have something to say to every Pakistani and Muslim who has passively accepted the evil system of oppression and who has stood on the sidelines in a mighty struggle for justice. They say to each of us, religious and liberal alike, that we must substitute courage for caution. They say to us that we must be concerned not merely about who murdered them, but about the system, the way of life, the philosophy which produced the murderers. Their death says to us that we must work passionately and unrelentingly for the realization of the Islamic Ideals. And so my friends, they did not die in vain. God still has a way of wringing good out of evil. And history has proven over and over again that unmerited suffering is redemptive. The innocent blood of these little boys may well serve as a redemptive force that will bring new light to this dark country. The Holy Scripture says, A little child shall lead them. The death of these little children may lead our whole nation from the low road of mans inhumanity to the man of high road of peace and brotherhood. These tragic deaths may lead our nation to substitute an aristocracy of character for an aristocracy of hypocrisy. The spilled blood of these innocent boys may cause the whole citizenry of Pakistan to transform the negative extremes of a dark past into the positive extremes of a bright future. Indeed this tragic event may cause the liberal and religious to come to terms with its conscience. And so I stand here to say this afternoon to all assembled here, that in spite of the darkness of this hour, we must not despair. We must not become bitter, nor must we harbor the desire to retaliate with violence. No, we must not lose faith in our brothers. Somehow we must believe that the most misguided among them can learn to respect the dignity and the worth of all human personality. May I now say a word to you, the members of the bereaved families? It is almost impossible to say anything that can console you at this difficult hour and remove the deep clouds of disappointment which are floating in your mental skies. But I hope you can find a little consolation from the universality of this experience. Death comes to every individual. There is an amazing democracy about death. It is not aristocracy for some of the people, but a democracy for all of the people. Kings die and beggars die; rich men and poor men die; old people die and young people die. Death comes to the innocent and it comes to the guilty. Death is the irreducible common denominator of all men. I hope you can find some consolation from Islam’s affirmation that death is not the end. Death is not a period that ends the great sentence of life, but a comma that punctuates it to more lofty significance. Death is not a blind alley that leads the human race into a state of nothingness, but an open door which leads man into life eternal. Let this daring faith, this great invincible surmise, be your sustaining power during these trying days. Now I say to you in conclusion, life is hard, at times as hard as crucible steel. It has its bleak and difficult moments. Like the ever-flowing waters of the river, life has its moments of drought and its moments of flood. Like the ever-changing cycle of the seasons, life has the soothing warmth of its summers and the piercing chill of its winters. And if one will hold on, he will discover that God walks with him, and that God is able to lift you from the fatigue of despair to the buoyancy of hope, and transform dark and desolate valleys into sunlit paths of inner peace. And so today, you do not walk alone. You gave to this world wonderful children. They didn’t live long lives, but they lived meaningful lives. Their lives were distressingly small in quantity, but glowingly large in quality. And no greater tribute can be paid to you as parents, and no greater epitaph can come to them as children, than where they died and what they were doing when they died. They did not die in the dives and dens of Peshawar, nor did they die discussing and listening to filthy jokes. They died between the sacred walls of the School, and they were discussing and learning the eternal meaning of love and knowledge. This stands out as a beautiful, beautiful thing for all generations. Ali Akber, the 18 year old son of Imam Hussain, said beautiful words to his father just before he headed out to fight Yazid’s dark forces of injustice and oppression. Hussain asked, how do you find death my son? Ali Akber in turn asked his father, are we on Haqq (Right) my dear father? Yes my son, without a shred of doubt! said Hussain. Ali Akber replied, there is nothing to be afraid of death my father.
Posted on: Fri, 16 Jan 2015 22:15:33 +0000