Addendum

Fairfield Full Disclosure:

A New Paradigm In the Heartland

This addendum explores the spiritual climate and residential atmosphere of Fairfield Iowa. Because Fairfield is home to Maharishi University of Management, the dialog necessarily touches on the university, on Vedic science and the activities of the meditators who have settled here. If you've had any exposure to Maharishi's teachings, you are familiar with the principle that one must be mindful of how your expression affects the "feeling level" of the listener. While acknowledging the importance of this principle, we wish to present a cogent argument for changing the political paradigm. Negative speech is counterproductive and can result in damage not only to the feelings of the listener, but also, in rebound, to one's own feeling level. Nevertheless, to solve a problem, you must understand the problem. Thus, a preliminary incursion into negative regions is unavoidable. Moreover, there is a class of people who invite negativity, who are, in fact, eminently deserving of critical evaluation. I'm speaking of the enforcement agents in government and the people who confer on them their civil mandate. For these enforcers we reserve the right to launch our sharpest attacks. If you find such criticism unsettling, you might proceed directly to the presentation of solutions later in the discourse. If, however, you would like to see the full picture and understand the rationale for the actions proposed in this paper, please read on. Caveat lector.

There is little in this world more frustrating than to be talked at, lectured, directed and instructed with no opportunity to talk back—to dispute, to question, to engage in give-and-take dialog. This is the condition to which most of us are subject. Our heads are flooded with a continuous stream in which all manner of presumed experts recite the state of the world—telling us what we must believe, how we must think and how we must act. The information is packaged as entertainment, as news and as public service. Behind it are business interests, product promoters and opinionated commentators from the government, the press and academia. But it's not like we're bound to a chair and forced to listen. There's a simple step we can take to escape this mind control—we can disconnect. Switch off the television and the radio, cut the Internet wire and cancel the newspaper. But few people take this step. Like zombies, we remain transfixed and allow ourselves to be manipulated.

We're all proud of the freedoms we have in this country, and freedom of speech is right up there among those we consider fundamental. But the freedom is a mirage. We have, in fact, given up something more important with our slavish devotion to the media—we've relinquished our freedom of thought. The problem is that most of us don't really know how to think; that is, how to think clearly. We haven't the proper training to make clear-headed decisions on our own, so we leave it to others to make them for us. The benefits of our great and grand democracy are loudly trumpeted, but reality at the grass roots does not reflect that greatness. Our jurists and lawmakers inhabit a different universe from ordinary citizens. They move in different circles, disconnected from our personal world, yours and mine. Oh, we may get to cast a vote every year or two, but voting is a drop in the civic bucket. It's a miniscule gesture relative to the decision making that goes on in the government's world. Even in a small community like Fairfield, where you would think decisions affecting the city would be the concern of every resident, there is a wide gulf between the activities taking place in our city and county chambers and the day- to-day concerns of the rest of us. I have lived here six years now, in the middle of town, barely four blocks from the square, and in this time I've come to realize that as far as my relationship with the government is concerned, I might as well be living on the moon. I am a nonexistent entity, a non-person, as are you, and as is every other Fairfield and Jefferson County resident who (a) does not work for the government, or (b) doesn't have a lot of money. When you don't exist, nothing you say or do has to be acknowledged; none of your problems or concerns have to be addressed. Indeed, the more serious the issue, the less the bureaucrats want to do with you. But it is worse yet. If you're not one of the political elite, and you become too vocal about something, you can be blacklisted. It can happen without your even knowing it. That's how politics works. There's a secretive aspect that goes against one's natural civic-minded impulse.

I should point out that the hushed side of politics is not totally negative. Quietness in itself is not bad. On the contrary, we've argued in this paper that quietness is a key aspect of the quality of life. The problems arise when silence and secrecy are combined with isolation and anonymity. The combination creates an impenetrable wall. Social abandonment, people turning their backs as if they don't know you, is the worst position a man can find himself in. But government goes even further. As if their aloof stance weren't enough, these people threaten you. Stationed inside their fortified cubicles, sitting in silent judgment, not concerned with you, your family or your personal circumstances, they issue orders that threaten your life and livelihood. They hold legal swords over your head, backed by armed deputies ready to pounce should you violate their decrees. Installing surveillance systems to spy on you, monitoring your movements and your finances, keeping secret records that allow them to more efficiently deploy their forces—this is the role of today's public servant. They are working to take away our homes, break up our families and destroy our ability to survive. And the exquisite irony is that it's all done in the name of freedom.

JB: But surely this can't be happening in artsy, laid-back Fairfield?

A: It happens wherever the punitive model rules, which means basically everywhere.

JB: Threatening your life and livelihood ... those are serious charges. Can you elaborate?

A: Yes, in a minute. But first let me divulge the formula for breaching the government's impregnable wall. No secret is so secure and no fortress so high it can stand against the power of thought. Provided, that is, that the thought is clear.

JB: This is certainly a philosophical turn. Weren't you going to talk about the community? The power of thought sounds completely abstract.

A: That's what's interesting. It's abstract, but it's also concrete. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .text truncated

JB: Isn't it harsh to be comparing cops with delinquent teens? Surely there's a difference in maturity and judgment.

A: No, there isn't. The thought patterns of teens and cops are fundamentally the same. In fact, you could argue the kids are less to blame for our societal woes because they are more innocent about the world. The adults operating our legal system are old enough to know better—to be wiser, more compassionate, more service oriented and civic minded than the kids, but they're not. The kids may be stealing your car, but at least they're not self-righteous about it. Unlike the adults, they are not parasitizing the citizenship, slapping us with fines and jail time under the bogus rubric of administering justice and doing it with the no back-talk bravado of someone with a loaded Glock in his belt.

Wounded Knee, My Lai, Srebrenica, Haditha, the Amritsar massacre, the Katyn Forest massacre, the Sharpeville massacre, the Indonesian massacres, the firebombing of Dresden, the cluster bombing of Lebanon, and yes, the Holocaust itself—what do these abominations have in common?

Their perpetrators all work for the Fairfield police department, and their sponsors and superiors work for Fairfield City, Jefferson County and the State of Iowa.

JB: I must interrupt. You're overstepping the bounds to equate Fairfield with Nazi Germany.

A: Am I? The mode of operation of all law enforcement, Hitler's SS included, is the same. It hasn't changed for centuries. Scholars who pen volumes about the causes of the Holocaust, who was to blame, how it took place and so on, are in the same boat with the lawyers who split hairs over Geneva conventions, international treaties and similar legal minutia. They quarrel over issues that require no argument; that is, no argument in the mind of anyone with the faintest moral compass. Force and fear are wrong. Killing is wrong. It's wrong in every context, at every place and time and regardless of who carries it out. Hitler didn't personally execute millions of innocent people—the bloody deeds were carried out by ordinary soldiers, fed by German farmers, supplied by German bureaucrats, with weapons designed by German engineers, financed by wealthy bankers, German and non-German alike. There's a lot of blame to go around.

Look, there's no polite way to put it: Big G people are impaired. To use Maharishi's terminology, there are functional holes in their brains. They simply can't see how backward and rude they are in their activities. Someday they will come to their senses and realize how dreadfully they've treated the people they are supposedly serving, how callous and irresponsible they have been in clinging to their simplistic views of law, justice and community service. Just as the German children of World War II felt shame at the cruelty of the previous generation, so will these government people today feel equal shame and embarrassment at how they are acting now. Or if they depart this world before the realization takes place, we only pray their descendants will feel it.

JB: Isn't government an innocent reflection of the people? If the government has simplistic views, then the people must have simplistic views.

A: Yes, and it doesn't speak well for the state of society.

I was chatting recently with a buddy who happens to sit on the city council. He mentioned something about a kid, a teen, who had had his skateboard confiscated by a Fairfield cop. He suggested the boy should go down and wash a couple of police cars to get on their good side. I remarked that had I been in that position as a teen, I'd be more likely to spit on the police car. My friend then launched into a lecture about how "these guys put their lives on the line every day," and how when they pull someone over, "you never know what might be in the car." I weakly retorted that cops create the fear, create the danger, but my remark went over his head. Keep in mind that this is one of our ostensible leaders—an articulate, educated, theoretically committed citizen working to better the city. One can easily imagine the simplistic outlook of the electorate that put him into office. They're all suffering a brain disorder, characterized by creating heroes from taser wielding thugs.

JB: You say fixing the government will make Fairfield livable. Are you suggesting Fairfield isn't livable now? Is there nothing at all to recommend about this town?

A: Of course there is. If you read my narrative on life in Camp Springs Maryland, the differences should leap out at you. Still, Fairfield Iowa is a city of extremes, as are the country and the world at the moment. (I'm saying Fairfield, but you can assume the discussion includes the surrounding region.) It has some unique and uplifting aspects, and some disturbing and depressing ones. It is equally a place of hope and despair. But it is not simply one or the other; assessing the quality of life is not a black and white, all or nothing exercise. As it was with community shared interest (see section 5.6), there is a continuum of qualities, from life supporting to life damaging. There is a good helping of subjectivity in making this assessment. Maharishi and others teach that the subjective angle is the more important, not just in assessing your community, but in every aspect of life. But in actual practice, this philosophy tends to ignore reality. From what I observe among my fellow meditators, it reinforces their reluctance to become involved in civic affairs. Most spiritual seekers shy away from conflict, and the political scene today is rife with it. So we end up with folks who skip through life in a state of self-created bliss, avoiding anything that has the slightest whiff of negativity. There are many in town who express notions of Fairfield as an ideal community, with wonderful projects developing and beautiful people pitching in. There's no question that amazing things are going on in this town, and one certainly applauds the mutual support, but it is nevertheless irksome to hear the cheery chatter when the reality is not nearly so bright. My sense is that most of the cheerleading is done by the well off and the well connected. They are not people who have to worry about putting groceries on the table. Moreover, there are two critical areas our local cheerleaders don't ever touch: the city's pronounced wealth gap and the punitive model of administration.

There's an oft-repeated parable that describes how a renowned Indian saint who never had a negative word to say was able to find something positive even when shown a dead cat. He noted the cat's pearly white teeth! What the parable fails to go into is that someone had to bury that poor cat, and you and I both know it wasn't the saint. Just as they don't move pianos, drive you to the airport or visit your sick bed, these people don't pick up dead cats. Having praised the pearly teeth, their job is done. The details and the grunt work are left to someone else. The big 'G' Government is like the dead cat that no one on the spiritual path wants to touch.

We could build a dozen civic centers, groom a hundred nature trails, attract a thousand artists and fill the domes to capacity every night, but if our punitive administration doesn't change, none of it will matter—this town, any town, will remain unlivable.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .text truncated

There is far too much formality in the way government and citizens communicate. The rigid structure disallows cordial, natural human interaction. It's tremendously intimidating for the average person to have to deal with public servants in this affected way. It creates a huge amount of stress. By average person, I mean the non-lawyers and non-legalists among us. Lawyers, of course, live and breathe this formalism; their every move is dictated by some code or other. But even people in the legal profession must feel the pinch of some of these off-the-wall restrictions. Check out, for example, the local court rules for Iowa Judicial District 8, which includes Jefferson County. They disallow expressions of "thanks, gratitude or dissatisfaction." Even hand-shaking is prohibited. How much more stilted can you possibly be?

JB: I assume they're trying to maintain an orderly courtroom. The judges don't want any distractions.

A: It's one thing to keep order, but quite another to dictate culture, for that's what these rules are really about. Cultural norms, including how one greets another person, how one enters a room and so on, must emerge from a deeper source than the whim of some panel of lawyers. Lawyers are the last people you want making cultural decisions. Of all occupations, the practice of law may be the most spiritually backward. As we've pointed out (see section 5.5), authentic culture contains the quality of timelessness, which, in turn, arises from the spiritual development of individuals and society. Lawyers, in contrast, reflect the ignorance of society. They have to, because by definition they must defer to the rule of the masses as codified in the law. The "no thank-yous, no handshakes" rule illustrates the complete absence of culture in this country. If people can't be trusted to engage in these most basic of human expressions, there should be alarm bells going off in responsible heads. If we lived somewhere else, where the traditions were different, where they might bow in greeting, for example, or execute a pirouette and rap their sticks on the floor, then perhaps hand-shaking would be gauche. But again, who are these dictatorial legalists who have appointed themselves the arbitrators of our culture?

Even outside the courtroom, it's just so awkward, so oppressive and so damned unnatural to have to submit a written petition, or follow some red tape, or camp outside an office, groveling, as it were, in order to connect with a government guy. It's ludicrous that we must pay lawyers to do this work for us. And we won't even discuss the physical barriers that separate us from big G: the security scans, checkpoints, metal detectors, pat-downs. This goes double for a town with a measly population of 10,000. Let's get the public servants out from behind their desks and into the kitchens, living rooms and porches of the populace. Not the cops, not the enforcers, but the leaders of the community, the people who are supposed to be looking out for our welfare. We have to normalize, which means de-legalize, de-formalize and de-criminalize the relationship between community members and community leaders. It's more important than the environment, more important than sustainability, than reforming health care, than fixing the economy. The punitive, top-down, law-heavy paradigm must be broken. If not, the outlook for humanity is not good.

JB: You talk about the needs of the citizens. Can you give some examples of what government officials should be inquiring about when they make their theoretical house calls?

A: There are dozens of concerns, big and small, that encroach on our minds each day. Some are joys, some are mundane, some weigh heavily on our souls. The majority of us carry our burdens alone: sick relatives, a bitchy boss, the credit card balance. Nor do we share the more pleasant occupations of our lives: a great book you discovered, what to bring to a friend's pot-luck, how to approach the attractive lady you met at the market. And then there are the smaller challenges we face: a whining cat under your window at 2:00 a.m., the six inches of snow covering your front walk, a new rattle coming from your ancient car, the fact that your neighbor's property resembles a junkyard (or, as in my case, actually is a junkyard). Since everyone is pretty much in the same boat, we don't expect a lot from people. Our universe is our universe, and visitors from outside don't linger very long. We've all been forced into a survival game, especially with our predatory economic system. That's why it's touching when a friend takes even a casual interest in your affairs. The simple act of lending a sympathetic ear has a profound effect. It's especially kind if the person is alone, not in the best health or poor, but I believe everyone can appreciate this kind of attention. This is how a true leader and servant of society conducts himself—as a counselor and confidante, extending a hand to those within his or her circle of acquaintance.

Contrast this with how public servants behave. They first of all impose a mandatory fee (i.e., tax) for their service and then threaten you with fines and jail time if you don't pay up. Moreover, in bestowing their supposed service, they don't extend themselves one inch beyond their office, disconnected as they are from the public at large; that is, disconnected as far as personal, human-level interaction is concerned. Rather than being a help, a guide, a teacher and a sympathetic supporter, these government people present another hindrance, another burden; they add to your pile of woes rather than relieve you of them.

We'll talk more about the specific challenges facing Fairfield's residents and how the government fails to address them, but let me first make clear that this little scheme of ours has the potential to completely change not only government, but society, and not only in this small town, but in the entire country and the world. We're proposing a real revolution. Not an armed uprising, but a revolution of thought, of conscience and of consciousness. To just think in these terms, that we are in charge and the nominal government works for us—that change of attitude will spark a conflagration that will incinerate the old framework. Realize when I say government works for us, I don't mean people wait for hand-outs; rather, we must take personal responsibility for the health and well-being of our friends, family and neighbors, starting where we live, in our own homes, on our own streets and in our own neighborhoods.

JB: Taking responsibility is a broad notion. Some will argue it's better to leave the neighbors alone—let them mind their own business, and you mind yours.[6]

A: Maharishi uttered those very words in instructing the Invincible America Assembly (IAA): "Mind your own business."[7] But I assume he was referring specifically to course participants, rather than people in the real world. He would no doubt say that IAA participants were demonstrating the highest responsibility in that they are creating peace—actual peace—as opposed to armed peacemakers, so-called, who impose their will with weapons. Creating peace does not mean holding hands and singing Kumbaya; rather, it's a process whereby an individual contacts the source of peace—the stillness within himself.

Responsibility is impossible to define in any strict sense, as we've discussed, but it must include concrete activity, and it must involve those who are geographically close. Recall how we proposed creating a structure that allows people to demonstrate grass-roots responsibility (see section 5.8). In Westchester Estates that structure was neighborhood watch. It was the natural choice for addressing juvenile crime. I believe something similar could work in Fairfield. The incidence of crime here is nil compared to Camp Springs, but, surprisingly, Iowa people are just as fearful and just as obsessed with security as the residents of my old DC-area neighborhood. There are, of course, the usual array of security devices at banks and chain stores, but I've spotted a number of signs in front of private homes warning of security systems, and there are cameras monitoring the restrooms, can you imagine, at the town library. A local bank has posted instructions ordering customers to remove their sunglasses and hats and pull off their hoodies when they enter. The Jefferson County Law Enforcement Center is laid out like a penitentiary, and I've spotted at least one unmarked police cruiser in town. Our local cops even have a K9 unit!

It's astonishing and more than a little unnerving to witness these fear-based measures in a town this small. The law enforcement center is a nightmare. Remember the old Andy Griffith Show, with the folksy town sheriff behind the front desk, smiling, tipping his hat and asking how he can help you? Brother, those days are gone! Some truly paranoid people have taken over small town America. Walk into the building down on Grimes and you'll see what I mean. It's like entering a CIA black site: a daunting cement block room with no receptionist and no chairs, just an opaque glass window at one end through which they can observe you, but you can't see them, and an intercom for you to communicate. You're treated like a criminal before you open your mouth to speak. What psychotic in the county government approved a design that duplicates a supermax prison? What cowardly police commander sets German shepherds on his neighbors? Who imposed these degrading controls on friends and fellow community members? This is Fairfield Iowa, not Kabul Afghanistan, not even Oxon Hill Maryland. We're a tiny community in the middle of nowhere [8]

JB: Wouldn't officials argue that facilities like these simply adhere to the most up-to-date standards? They want to be sure someone they arrest stays arrested. That's what their job requires.

A: Ah yes, they're just doing their job. It's the same argument we heard at Nuremberg. The Jews at the Nazi death camps stayed arrested too. No one wants to take any real responsibility. No one can entertain even a remote thought that the standards we are following might possibly be flawed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .text truncated

What is the most despicable action you can take against a person? The most vile thing you can do to a man?

To hit him when he's not looking, to ambush him from behind. The modern military has taken backstabbing and sneak attacks to the most atrocious extreme. Spy satellites, out of sight, high above can track your every move, and precision guided missiles will find you in the most remote corner of the earth, to leave behind a smoking crater where you and your friends once stood. Talk about gutless. Some sniveling junior officer at a console thousands of miles away executes summary judgment on people he never meets, incinerating them by remote control, without warning, without hearing any pleas for mercy or allowing any legal redress and oblivious to whatever "collateral damage" might occur, annihilating people whom the spies identified as a threat, based on ... what? Passionate preaching? Outspoken expressions of discontent? Animosity toward America? Speech that undermines established authority? If that's the case, look out Jeremiah Wright, they'll be bombing Southside Chicago before long. Hell, they'll be bombing Fairfield before long.

JB: Come on now. The government would surely not attack its own people.

A: Wouldn't it? Big G already treats the public as a threat. They're already spying on us. There are 10,000 surveillance cameras on the streets of Chicago alone.[16] Even local cops act like you're the enemy.

Let's boil this down. The Army major is troubled. He's a counselor himself, yet he is struggling with questions about the very profession he chose to follow: soldiering. He turns to religion, seeking guidance from spiritual teachers. We can only guess what they told him, but it obviously didn't help as the result was a suicidal rampage. The military's response? They bring Hasan up on charges, no doubt intending to execute him, and proceed to assassinate his religious counselor with a rampage of their own. [17]

Major: Killing seems wrong.

Army: Can it, soldier.

Major: I don't understand this world.

Army: [Shrug]

Major: What does my religion say?

Cleric: Kill the army and go to heaven.

Army: Kill the cleric and save democracy.

Obama: Rule of law ... blah, blah ... not in our lifetimes ... blah, blah .. morally justified ... blah, blah ... evil exists ... blah, blah, blah ...

Regarding the airline bomber, his family, distraught about the young man's disappearance, gets in touch with government authorities, who respond by putting Abdulmutallab on a watch-list. There's never any question of helping the family. Never any thought of reaching out to them or their son. They treat him as a threat, rather than someone with whom they might have fallen short in their role as educators and leaders. On the day Abdulmutallab appeared in court to face charges, NBC News reported the FBI had spent thirty hours interviewing him before he asked for a lawyer. An official said the suspect "talked his head off," from the moment he was arrested. I'd like to know why authorities didn't spend thirty hours with this man before he strapped a bomb to his body. It's clear he was pleading for attention, crying for someone to hear him. When I see his face on the television screen, I see every boy I taught at Friendly High School. I see every adolescent kid hanging on the corners of Westchester Estates. I see puzzled, impressionable youth, questioning everything, understanding nothing and seeking its proper level in an enormously complex world.

When I see the faces of the security people, on the other hand, I see Fairfield's cops, and Prince George's County's, and Montgomery County's, and the officers of every law enforcement agency in every jurisdiction I've ever had the misfortune to set foot in. I see self-righteous phonies, muddle-headed jerks who never in their lives have spent one millisecond actually teaching or counseling a young man like this. Forget the thirty hours. We could have spent thirty years with this man. Every step of the way, in every aspect of his development, there should have been intelligent, compassionate people guiding him. Not the spies who record your conversations, hack your emails and install cameras on your street, whose idea of a fatherly talk is an interrogation and whose venue for neighborly interaction is a barbed-wire compound. The watch-list action reflects the cold detachment and blind fear that characterize everything big G does. The compiling of secret watch-lists is an insult, an affront to integrity.

JB: Cops would say it's not their job to hold the hands of people like Abdulmutallab. They would claim spiritual development is someone else's responsibility.

A: Right, and that's why I say cops are irresponsible. They don't operate within the community, they work outside of it, as if there were an invisible wall separating their lives from those of the neighbors.

What I'm getting at is that we gave birth to these so-called terrorists, including al-Awlaki, the "radical" cleric. Their world and their worldview were created by us. Imagine for a moment these men had lived in our community during their formative years. Was there no way we could have prevented their turning to violence in their twenties and thirties? Of course there was, but we must alter our own worldview to see how it could be accomplished. All of them, the Nigerian included, received an education typical of wealthy Westerners. Abdulmutallab attended an exclusive British boarding school in Togo, and then University College London and the University of Wollongong in Dubai. Hasan was raised in Roanoke Virginia, and studied at Virginia Tech and the Uniformed Services University in Bethesda Maryland. The U.S.-born al-Awlaki did his university studies at Colorado State, San Diego State and George Washington University in DC. His father studied at New Mexico State and the University of Nebraska and worked at the University of Minnesota. (I'm not citing references, but this information is available in online archives.) You can guess where I'm pointing my finger—at all of these prestigious institutions, at the schools the men attended before college and, most importantly, at the communities where they grew up.

Analysts commenting on these incidents play a game where they try to discover how such men were "radicalized."[18] The term radical, like so many others in political science, is not well defined, but taking its usage from common parlance, I maintain that radicalization, so-called, is subordinate to a much more powerful conversion: globalization. It's really the globalization of people that creates the critical tendencies. By this I mean a young man or woman's behavior is strongly influenced by how the folks around him see their position on the planet. We grow up believing that to serve humanity, to work for a just cause or to simply succeed in life, we must join up with some national or international group. We continually aspire toward more worldly strata as the stage where we find our social niche. Without getting into the curricula at the particular schools where these men studied, I suggest the modern university system reinforces this outlook. And it's not just in economic matters that students are affected. We bring them up thinking the highest authorities in all aspects of social life—moral, political, educational—are remote rather than local. In the globalized view, the further removed you are from the local environs, the greater is your supposed authority and the more respect must be paid you. Among the less enlightened, the result is an absurd malady where people look to Hollywood stars and professional athletes for role models. Among the more intelligent, it means abandoning whatever real roots you have for a place among the urban literati.

JB: Could such men really have come from a town like Fairfield?

A: Absolutely. In fact, one of them appears to be a product of the American plains. The University of Nebraska and the University of Minnesota, where al-Awlaki presumably lived with his father during his early years, are prairie schools, and Colorado State is just thirty miles from Pawnee National Grassland. Did the young man connect at all with the Fort Collins community? Did his parents interact in any way with communities in Lincoln and Minneapolis? If so, the connection was tenuous, as the family moved back to Yemen. In all of these cases, the young men overlooked important issues in their immediate locality, choosing instead to serve in the national or international arena upon completing their education—Hasan in the U.S. Army, al-Awlaki and Abdulmutallab in a global jihad movement, and al-Awlaki's father in the Yemeni government. We have to start driving home to our young people that you don't need to go anywhere to make a contribution. On the contrary, the most valuable thing they can do is contribute to the self-sufficiency of their own homes, wherever they may be. And if you don't really have a home, find a place that suits you and make your commitment there. I suggest we could have used all four of these men right here: Hasan with his biochemistry and medical training, Abdulmutallab and al-Awlaki with their engineering backgrounds and al-Awlaki's father with advanced degrees in agriculture. These are educated people with valuable skills. If only they could grasp the importance of creating a locally sustainable society, I, for one, would be happy to welcome them as neighbors.

JB: Perhaps they were looking for a tougher challenge. Fairfield might be too bourgeois.

A: In that case, I would suggest Mr. Abdulmutallab return to his native Nigeria, where he should move out of his parents' mansion and take up residence in a village that, say, needs facilities for running water or electric service. Mr. al-Awlaki could move back to his birthplace, Las Cruces New Mexico, just an hour's drive from Ciudad Juarez, a border town of extreme poverty, corruption and crime. There he would find a worthy challenge for his spiritual leanings and an opportunity to focus his firebrand discontent toward systemic change. Mr. Hasan could return to Roanoke in Southwestern Virginia and become active in the nearby Appalachian region, which has its own poverty and currently faces a daunting problem with mountain-top coal removal. Unfortunately, this whole discussion is rather moot, as all three likely face death or life in prison. But people who exhibit the same tendencies should take note. You'll never defeat the system by bombing it. Similarly, the system will never defeat the likes of ISIS and al-Qaeda by killing their members. These decapitating strikes, as they're termed, are like cutting off the top of a noxious weed—the rest of the plant keeps on spreading, nourished on the fertile ground of poverty and ignorance. And suicide bombings, while dramatic and energizing to one's fellow jihadis, are also energizing to your enemy and do not alter the fundamental ignorance that pervades Western society.

JB: So what do you propose we do about these radicals? Don't they believe killing infidels is required by their religion?

A: For one thing, stop arming them. They would not be nearly so dangerous if they weren't carrying Kalashnikovs and shooting rocket-propelled grenades. Indeed, the real villains in this drama are the arms peddlers. They're the ones who need to be stopped.

But it's ignorance that we're actually fighting, in that jihadis who claim adherence to Islam exhibit grossly undeveloped cognition. Like so many religionists, they rely exclusively on scripture for guidance, rather than looking within, and hence are missing fundamental truths. The heart, not the intellect, tells you that killing is wrong. The challenge is in getting people to realize they even have a heart, and, moreover, that heart can be cultivated. I maintain that even the most primitive forest dweller can be educated in this manner, if you can get close enough. We certainly won't teach people very much from an F-16 a thousand feet up, letting loose missiles as we go.

We're discussing radical Islamists here, but let me point out the identical argument applies to your run-of-the-mill criminal. Just as we create international terrorism, we also create the sociopaths who terrorize us in more mundane ways. Every one of the hoodlums in my old Camp Springs community, including the gun-happy Gary, the gangster-wannabes at Suitland High and the slasher Skip, are the offspring of the anti-culture in which we live, the age of rootless, landless, urbanized anonymity. This condition did not spring up overnight. Read, for example, Truman Capote's account of the Clutter family murders in rural western Kansas.[19] Two paroled convicts, Dick Hickock and Perry Smith, carried out a brutal quadruple murder during a home-invasion robbery in 1959 and were sent to the gallows as a result. Reading Capote's narrative, I felt as much pity for those boys as I did for the slain family. Not so much in seeing the pair hang, but pity for their upbringing—the debilitating, dust-bowl environment that shaped their pathetic lives, pity for the loss of geographic connection that creates the subculture of penniless migrants, a condition that persists to this day.

JB: I suppose you would have patted Hickock and Smith on the head and told them to go on their way and be good boys.

A: I don't know what I would have done. Justice must respect the uniqueness of the times and the particular circumstances of the accused. We can't make blanket rules about crime, not even the crime of murder. If it were determined these men could not be rehabilitated, I probably would have gone along with the Finney County court and hung them, but I surely wouldn't glorify the whole sorrowful affair like the Kansas State Historical Society does. They have a photo of Dick Hickock on their web site (www.KansasMemory.org) and have even preserved the gallows used in the execution. You can see it yourself at the Kansas History Museum in Topeka. These museum curators are, frankly, as disgusting as the criminals. Indeed, more so because they position themselves on the high rail of legal righteousness. Six people died; what is there to be proud of? Anyone who can watch an execution and take satisfaction from it is as much a beast as the person being executed. We need to stop celebrating vengeance and instead take pride in preventing violence. We must figure out how to reach the likes of Hickock, Smith, Hasan and the others before these tragedies take place.

JB: You say Hasan, Abdulmutallab and al-Awlaki were reachable in the university towns where they lived and studied, but for a serious student or a busy faculty member there isn't much time for extracurricular activities. Can you elaborate on how these people could have connected with their communities given the limitations of time? Moreover, if there is no one to look up to locally, what choice do young people have other than to gravitate to the global scene?

A: We have to ask, who are the real leaders in a community? And how does a responsible leader approach another person, a neighbor, as it were? Is such an approach precluded by our anonymous lifestyle? Here we have three men with a destructive bent[20] who at one time lived in affluent, fully developed, Western-style environments. If the right people had moved among them, could they have been diverted from the path of violence? And what form would that movement have taken? One wouldn't suppose that taking to the streets of, say, Roanoke, or London to shout, "Killing is wrong," with a bullhorn would have made an impression. Nor, as we've discussed, does it accomplish much to have clergymen sermonize on these points Perhaps if we had a radio show ....

Actually, on Fairfield's low-power, community station, KRUU-FM, political commentator James Moore, in response to these incidents, remarked that the administration was focusing more on terrorists rather than a "ridiculous war on terror." His co-host, Dennis Raimondi added that dealing with the likes of the airline bomber was a job for the police or the FBI, rather than the military. Their comments suggest a different direction for big G's focus. They highlight the necessity of attending to individuals, rather than groups, and bringing local, rather than national authorities into the mix. The change in perspective is good, but our friends at KRUU don't go far enough in their analysis; they stop short of embracing a fully preventive outlook. A day or two after these comments were aired, another commentator, Mumia Abu-Jamal, also speaking on KRUU by way of Free Speech Radio News, remarked that most everyone in the media is asking "how," but no one is asking "why" regarding the bombing attempt.

"At last," I thought, "we're getting to the crux of the matter."

Mr. Abu-Jamal, like Suzanne Stryker, has pivoted his attention 180 degrees and in doing so turned the terrorism issue on its head. He is calling into question our society, our policies, our attitudes and our own behavior. He is pointing out that the cause of crime has nothing to do with the actions of airport security, or any other type of security. This is a critical point—one worth repeating. Crime, including terrorism, is not a problem for the police, or any enforcement agency. It never was and never will be. Crime is our problem—yours and mine, brother—and until people comprehend this, we won't see any improvement in world society. Unfortunately, few people are likely to pay much attention to the comments of Mr. Abu-Jamal as he is an inmate at a Pennsylvania prison—on death row, no less. But then, why should anyone listen to what I say? Why should they listen to what Moore and Raimondi say? Are we back to bullhorns in the street?

JB: The bullhorn technique does offer some advantages. Many activists have made pretty good use of it.

A: Strange to say, we do have something along those lines going on right now. There are roughly two thousand sidhas—people practicing the TM-Sidhi program, an extension of the TM technique—coming together daily on campus and in Vedic City for the express purpose of creating a peaceful world. Their message is essentially the same as what you would hear from a bullhorn or a pulpit, but their actions project much louder and farther than any bullhorn could blast or any preacher could shout. Actions speak louder than words. Here we have another of those ancient maxims everyone knows but hardly anyone understands. Say you are a perennial bad actor, and I don't like what you're doing. What to do? I could tell you so to your face. I could take a swing at you. I could do something sneaky that damages your reputation. I could march the streets banging a drum. Or, how about this: I gather a thousand of my friends and hop around on foam mattresses each day, declaring the intent is to bring peace not only between you and me, but to everyone. Even wilder, I could import a thousand indigenous shamans and have them spend their days performing esoteric rituals that purportedly have the power to cool societal tensions. If you can imagine this happening in the midst of Iowa corn fields, you have an extraordinary imagination. But, lo and behold, someone in Maharishi's camp conceived such a scenario and proceeded to made it happen!

With the Invincible America Assembly (of which this observer has been a participant) and the gathering of Vedic pandits[21] in Maharishi Vedic City, MUM is making as bold a statement as you can make about the need for peaceful solutions to our perilous social condition. Faculty member John Hagelin is one of the main organizers, and he likened the assembly to the Meissner effect of quantum theory, where charged particles form an impregnable unit that repels outside magnetic influence. The name "Invincible America" describes how the coherence of the assembly can similarly repel negativity from penetrating the country. The analogy is certainly descriptive, but Hagelin and company go further than mere analogs. They say groups of meditators can be understood to exhibit not just an analogous phenomenon, but the identical phenomenon as superconducting atoms.

Let's examine this for a moment. We certainly recognize that one's intent is projected through action, producing behavioral reverberations among the people with whom we interact directly and beyond them into greater society. The routines of the meditators and pandits illustrate this, but it's not their specific activity that matters so much as the spin underlying what they do. The more enlightened these folks are—that is, the more firmly established in their self-referring awareness (see section 5.5)—the more powerful is the outward manifestation of the spin. This is called yoga, where concrete action is well rooted in the abstract region that is the internal "half" of the human form. We're told the pandits are acting from a deeper level than ordinary people. I take this to mean they are less distracted by outside influence, more inwardly oriented and very clear in their thoughts. The power of their routine derives from this internal anchor. Their subtle intentions for peace are then magnified and projected by way of the rituals.

JB: I understand the psychological connection between pandits and the public, but I don't see why we need to bring electrons into the discussion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .text truncated