A HOUSE OF PEACE AT GROUND ZERO

Let us say for argument’s sake that there is not something outright malevolent in building a mega-mosque at Ground Zero. Yet, no one can escape the truth that it is an act of the most inconceivable chutzpa (gall) on the part of purportedly well-motivated Muslim movers-and-shakers.

Someone had to have whispered in someone’s ear, “Think of how much ill-will we would generate by dropping that edifice down at the foot of the symbol of abject hatred. How much worse would building the mosque sully the reputation of a people already alleged to be intent on ‘taking over the world’? How many people would ‘get it’ that our motives were only the highest? Isn’t resisting that kind of controversy and ill-repute worth our buying some less tragedy-steeped plot of land? Should we not have the wisdom, kindness, and pursuit of peace to move elsewhere?”

The day will likely never come for that mosque to represent anything other than rancor, ill-will, and the antithesis of the Muslim pledge to foster ways of peace. Perception is everything, and the perception will always be twenty-stories of chutzpa, if not outright malevolence.

Were that space next to Ground Zero to remain mosque-less and empty, no higher cause would have been served. If anything, Muslims would be vindicated, because no altruistic goal whatsoever would be realized by a conspicuous gap in Downtown architecture, or worse, filled in by a bodega.
What then? Just a thought, now:

What about a House of Peace, welcoming to all people? I envision it as a calm and serene place, a respite from the shoulder-jogging bustle of the Downtown streets and financial district chicanery and intrigue. No graffiti or rancor. Cool, quiet, fountains, areas that lend themselves to meditation, others to discussion and study, with serene plantings and a grotto. Not a museum, but perhaps niches where in solitude one can listen to the words of the world’s peacemakers. A string-quartet here. A flute recital here. And no Wi-Fi. Serenity. Restfulness. Restoration. Peace.

When you stop to think of it, a house of peace is the only meaningful use of property once so sullied by hate and every antithesis of peace.

“Get real!” you say. And, I would say that you are right. Think of the security, the coordination of programming, the fundraising cocktail parties and extravaganzas, the decisions of what does-and-doesn’t represent the vision of peace, the designs of the fountains and grottos, the letting of contracts for construction . . .

Getting real is precisely the point. It’s inconceivable that we would ever find a critical mass of people – particularly people of influence – to concretize a vision of peace, even if it’s merely a symbolic one, or even to agree to what “peace” would look like. Yet, what we do with that parcel of land at Ground Zero must bring the issue to a head. If not a mosque, what then? If not a symbol of chutzpa and provocation, then what in its place?

There are dreamers and “big-picture” people, and I confess to being both. I know an ideal when I see it, and I know that the only thing worse than having dreams is to have no dreams at all. The events at Ground Zero left many of us cynical and dreamless. We need some good dreams, not ones of revenge and vindication, but of places here and there, if not everywhere, that peace becomes reality for all who dare to dream it. We may never have a House of Peace in Lower Manhattan, but what a lovely dream, if only we held in our hearts and did not capitulate to cynicism. The world may laugh at our dreams, but in a dreamless world, how dare we not dream them?