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Just when I was thinking Atwood's book sounded painfully obvious and pedantic, Louis Bayard reminds me of the peril of that argument.
Louis, of the atrocities which have been, and are being, - perpetrated against the people of other nations by the government you and your ancestors have presumably funded with tax dollars, how many of them do you suppose The United States has sought, or will seek, forgiveness for?
As a nation, despite our pathological recidivism, we don't ask to be forgiven for anything. Occasionally - very occasionally - an official statement alludes to an episode of violence and misery we have willfully inflicted without just cause. When such vague acknowledgments occur, you can be sure they are political calculations of a last resort. Describing them as boilerplate apologies would be both generous and pathetically inaccurate.
I am not aware of a single instance in which my government has asked for forgiveness. Or maybe I'm just not aware of it. Rarely do I make it to Page 18A of the Saturday newspaper.
Addressing reader comments, you write:
As a spiritual practice, forgiveness CAN be unilateral; sometimes, that's the only way it can happen. But from a practical perspective, forgiving Al Qaeda would have done nothing to alter the dynamic of that relationship, other than to make us feel (possibly) better about ourselves.
How many of the victims in Iraq and Afghanistan do you estimate are Al Qaida operatives?
Your review of Ms. Atwood's book reflects a disturbing (and disturbingly common) belief that humility is weakness, and hubris, strength. The inverse is true, but it's a truth we are unlikely to discover anytime soon.
The unwillingness to distinguish narcissism from critical self-examination is the primary obstacle to saving our dying planet. Unfortunately, we simply will not do it.
Oh, and about those atrocities committed by your government in your name - atrocities for which the word forgiveness is unlikely to ever find itself attached: When the human beings we call collateral damage return the favor, perhaps you can take some comfort in the knowledge that our attackers may well have forgiven us spiritually.
You have succumbed to fear and dressed your capitulation in the perpetually stylish threads of pragmatism. It's a damn cheap suit, my friend.
Next time, try a little courage.