Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel once said, "In a democratic society few are guilty, but all are responsible." Judging from the numerous e-mails I've gotten in response to my column last week, many have yet to learn this lesson.
My column was about starting a truly universal draft as a way of avoiding war. Along with many other flaws in the arguments people presented to me, there was one common claim: We are not putting our lives on hold for a war we have nothing to do with.
Those who wrote me critiques revealed the ways in which they have absolved themselves of responsibility for the actions of our government. One respondent expressed his complete detachment from the conflict because he "will not die so George Bush and his cronies can finish his dad's job and make billions for their friends."
Another wrote me that he wouldn't go to war "because instead of a future filled with college, a family and a career, I will be sent to war and if I come home alive [then] I can start my life over, probably with mental issues."
These two commentators on my column know the suffering caused to people by this war. We have watched 25,000 of our brothers, sisters, neighbors and children wounded or killed in Iraq, and always there is somebody else to blame.
The dearth of responsibility isn't limited to our involvement in a war in the Middle East.
We see 46.6 million people without health insurance, waiting out the inevitable injury or illness that will put them out on the street.
Every day we walk past several of the hundreds of thousands of homeless in our country and, at most, offer a nickel or dime.
We stare with fear at newspaper reports of global climate change and then hop in our cars to drive to the corner store.
We watch Sodexho pay ASU food-service workers poverty wages and then enjoy our meals at Manzanita.
And as always, there is somebody else to blame.
All of these problems are born out of our actions. Yet, instead of recognizing our roles in the plethora of suffering, we wipe clean our conscience by finding somebody on whom we can place guilt.
But all this is suffering we cause. We elected leaders who have taken us to war, we tacitly encourage a system of HMOs, we do our best to ignore the homeless in our alleys, we feed our addiction to oil and we love to eat on campus.
This isn't Bush's war or Michael Crow's service class. It's our war and our service class. If we disagree with it, then we are the ones who have to take action to do something.
Those of us at ASU are among the most privileged people in this country. Simply having time to read The State Press or write a weekly column is demonstrative of the relative ease in our lives.
We have the opportunity to go to school, to live in safe communities and to ultimately get paid outrageous amounts for basically unnecessary work. Others will never enjoy those luxuries.
Our futures, so full of potential, are mortgaged against the futures of those who will work menial jobs, serve in the military and sleep on the street. Until we recognize our responsibility in creating such injustice, our society will remain fundamentally broken.
Alex Ginsburg is a religious studies senior disgusted by the unrecognized privilege he and his peers share. Please direct pragmatic schemes for radical social change to: alexander.ginsburg@asu.edu.
