Fighting Hate with Hate Solves Nothing

You think you’ve a big pothole on your street? Hey, let me tell you about some of mine. Here in Dairyland there are potholes big enough to bury a cow. Hell, some of them can hold two cows with room for a farmer or two. Too bad I couldn’t find one large enough to hold the pen of pigs parading in front of the Capital in Madison, Wisconsin. They were brave enough to expose their foreheads above sunglasses and baklavas. Dressed in red and black, carrying large black flags with white swastikas, they chanted “There will be blood.”

I’m sure there were some “good people” among them, since that’s what one vermin calling presidential republican candidate suggests about others. This hateful march is just another consequence of his brand of incitement. I’m a bit squeamish as far as my blood goes and the implication was rather clear especially since they stopped in front of the fourth oldest surviving synagogue in the United States.

But their chants and the ex-president’s increasing violent rants has effectively dug that cow-sized pothole in front of my house. There are limits on free speech. You can’t yell “Fire!” in a crowded theater if there’s no fire. And there needs to be limits on hateful and incendiary speech before people get hurt. Maybe it’s time for the responsible adult in the republican house to call in the dogs? You’d think.

However, I just suggested some detours didn’t have to be detours if we approached them in a constructive way. I’m going to try the same with potholes – cow-sized potholes.

First thing as before is to take a couple of deep breaths. I spent three paragraphs ranting because I felt threatened. A couple of millenniums of pogroms may have reprogrammed a survival gene. That’s a contributing factor. As a kid a couple times I wandered into the wrong neighborhood and got pushed around for being a dirty kike, a Christ killer. That was before I learned about the Holocaust! So I own it. The pothole is my creation – FEAR – right in front of me. FEAR has a way of instant replay at twice the speed and three times the volume. Heck, what’s to worry? No one bombs synagogues or shoots up congregations in this country. Oh? But they do now! They even storm CONGRESS.

I’m sharing this because I know my fears can’t be anything like those some of you who seen combat have to deal with. I’m not in your boots, not even close. But my Catholic friend who comes to my synagogue also attends the Shik Temple in Milwaukee and knew some of the worshippers who were shot and killed a couple of years back. No one said fear isn’t real. It can keep you alive.

I’m worried that fear could keep me locked inside both literally and figuratively, afraid to go outside of my house or mind because others have dug a pothole or two or three on the street in front.

Writing about it helps. I’ll talk about it with my buddy next time we get together for a beer.

But a scarier thing for me about all these potholes is how it changes me inside. It tries to make me like the haters, the neo-Nazis and demagogues yelling death to the vermin. It makes me want to react and become like them, marching and waving an automatic weapon in the air. I realize it would be all to easy to pick up a weapon and drive destructively into the pothole of their hate, reciprocating violence with more violence.

I have to work harder and continue marching to a different drummer, one beating a cadence of love and compassion step after step!

I know I can’t do it alone and have to remember all those marching with me. And at the head of the column are you, all of you that serve or served in the Armed Forces and have pledged to uphold the Constitution of the United States of America. To me you are very real heroes and heroines.

Just to be sure. The potholes, large and small out side my house are of my creation. I do believe we have ALL the seeds of humanity within us, the good as well as the bad. We can do good or bad. Some deeds come easy, some we have to struggle or work on. Outside events can stir the pot and bring traits we don’t want to the surface or using an artist concept, create negative space (potholes) around us. So that where before we were rock solid: responsible citizens, respectful of others, etc., etc. now we may react in negative ways.

The neo-Nazi parade triggered anger and hate within me–resentment and the desire to strike back. Negativity gnaws away at my insides and anger enlarges the holes to two-cow size. I realize that it’s up to me to fill them in with positive deeds and thoughts. Not joking: recycling stuff figuratively in those holes, picking up litter from public space and disposing of it properly. Smiling and being nice to strangers. Trying to be more tolerant. Listening more carefully to my wife. Heck, even driving respectfully.

And then when the holes are nearly filled and tamped down, cover it all with a couple of inches of concrete made with deeds of loving kindness. It ain’t easy, never is, but I can only do my best. It’s especially important during the current holiday season.

Thank you for listening (reading) and God bless! 

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Ken was a Professor of Mathematics, a ceramicist, a welder, and an IBMer until downsized in 2000. He taught yoga until COVID-19 decided otherwise. He continues writing, living with his wife and beagle in Shorewood, Wisconsin. He enjoys chamber music and mysteries. He’s a homebrewer and runs whitewater rivers. Ken is a writer and his literary works can be found at https://www.kmkbooks.com/

He welcomes feedback on his articles and can be reached at havokjournal@havokmedia.com.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.