Back to Democracy - The Way of the Warrior

G’day all. I’ve just returned from my honeymoon in Israel. I’m Judith Kumar, an Aussie-Jewish mum from Mosman, Sydney. I grew up a not-so-devout Catholic. My husband and I met at a Catholic youth meeting in Sydney some years ago when we were still both at uni. I’m married to a Fijian (my husband says I should say ‘Fiji Indian’ rather than ‘Fijian’ but I think that’s just whimping out in the face of racism, and, for the life of me, will never understand the behavioural idiosyncrasies surrounding this name, which is after all, per se, a creation of the British colonialists). Can you imagine me not being able to call myself an Aussie just because I’m of paternal Jewish heritage? Seven of my granduncles and aunts gave their lives fighting the evil racists Hitler and Hirohito to protect Australia, my dad is a former New South Wales parliamentarian and my brother is a major in the Australian army. I’m a third-generation Aussie, a budding lawyer, and there’s no one more dinky dye than daggy ol’ me. But I’m really here to applaud all the Matavuvale bloggers who have marched behind Jesus in the war against racism and sexism in Fiji and elsewhere. Just be careful, though, you see, the hunger for power, in the wrong hands, can quickly and silently metamorph into deadly coils of hardened steel trapping their prey and crushing the very heart and soul out of everything ever loved including the purpose for being here. Self-destruction is never a pretty sight. And to the lady called Mere Tuisalalo Samisoni I say, “way to go woman, you the warrior; if only more of the men had your courage fighting both face-to-face and from afar. We pray for you each day."
Stop.Reflect: "Saul,Saul why do you persecute me." Therein, lies the path to greatness, the way of the warrior.
Okay, story time:
Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, there lived four kings, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, who ruled over their kingdoms, side by side. John’s kingdom was much bigger than the rest but it had no army, no guards, no power to protect it and so John and his people lived in constant fear of the other three smaller kingdoms which were made up of tribes of fearsome warriors led by their powerful kings. But the way of the warrior can often become a two-edged sword; because of their fearsome nature, Matthew, Mark and Luke, who were blood brothers, were always arguing and fighting about who should be emperor of all the land.
One day, as they had done so many times before, Luke and his fearsome warriors attacked John’s kingdom partly because ten percent of John’s people had more money than Luke but mainly because John was not a blood brother and his people were a different race and weak. John and his people trembled in fear and did not, could not, and would never be able to fight back because of their peaceful, timid, frightened nature. So Luke and his warriors robbed his frightened neighbours of their most valuable possessions.
“Dad, why do we keep hurting John and his people,” Luke’s teenage son asked as they marched back home from the raid.
“We have to do this otherwise they will steal our land from us,” Luke replied with a sly grin.
“But dad, they are like rabbits, they only know how to run and hide. How can they take our land from us?” the son said, scratching his head with a puzzled look on his face.
“No, dumbo,” Luke replied as he playfully slapped his son’s head, “for me to stay King, our race must believe heart mind and soul that John is plotting to take our land and possessions; the truth has nothing to do with it, boy. Why do you think Matthew and Mark’s tribes are beginning to love me more than my brothers. Its all about big fishes eating smaller fishes, son.”
“Cool... you’re one sick mother ... I mean, dog, dad. ooof, ooof, ooof” the son howled jokingly.
“Hey, watch your mouth boy. Heads have rolled for less in my kingdom. I’ll teach you to call me a sick dog”, Luke hissed, to which his son replied, “C’mon dad, chill out .... sheesh. I meant sick as in .... oh nevermind .... dumbo.”
Now, Matthew, who was more educated than his brothers, became filled with pity for John and his people, and his heart began to bleed because he realised that the very soul of his proud race had begun to die.
“Dear God, we were once warriors. Help me to save my race. Help me to save John and his people too,” he prayed one night. The next day, in a pre-emptive strike, he arrested Mark and Luke and placed them in handcuffs. Then he bought a packet of popcorn, shoved The Lord of the Rings into the dvd player, sunk back into the sofa and wondered why Gollum and Frodo were finding it so hard to throw the ring into the fire beneath Mordor.
The days turned into weeks and the weeks into years and the ring of hardened steel began to bind Matthew and tighten. And he began to lose sight of his main objectives under the steely glare of Sauron’s stare. And he began to talk about land issues, the oneness of powers and the death of checks and balances. And his obsession with pretexts became as a spider weaving its way onto the worldwide web, cocooning the critics one by one in threads of silver; a dollar for bygone loyalties, a dollar for weakened words, a dollar for identities.
Then just when all seemed lost, a handsome young prince ( whoohoo, nice bola) burst into the darkness on his horse shouting “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.” Prince Rajesh rode throughout the land shouting Jesus’ name and wherever Jesus’ name was heard the darkness crumbled and light lit the gloom and Sauron’s glare began to weaken. The light streamed in and shattered the ring of steel that had kept Matthew prisoner and he began jumping for joy praising God and shouting, “Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen.”
And they all lived happily ever after.
The end? Not quite.
Here's some of the things the devil has been doing in the recent past:
“Heil Hitler ... achtung, achtung ... Judan, Judan, Judan” (Jesus kicked ass here ....oooh yeah)
“We are going to torture you Kaffer.” (Jesus won here as well, big time)
“You lie boy .... lynch the nigger, lynch the nigger.” (Jesus made the dream come true here)
“Bloody coon ...wog .... chink ..” (Jesus winning here too)
“Woman is like piece of meat, must be covered ....is property of the man ... Allah akbar” (Can you belive this guy? Jisu, tilo mada, before you go any further here, can you allow me just one whack please ... pretty please? )
“ Oe kai’dia ... moku na kai’dia .... kai’dia, kai’dia ..... mata dre, mata dre ... ” (Jisu: “Tamaqu, ni vosoti ira,
ni ra sa sega ni kila na ka era sa kitaka.”)
Lets now bow our heads and end with this truth: “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers (oi, hang on a sec St Luke....hey Jesus, matey, I know you also meant sisters too, right? ...there, big sima, na,na,na,na) that you do unto me.”
Epilogue: “Raj, you rotten filthy mongrel, you forgot to sweep me off my feet and ride off with me into the sunset. I’m going to kick your skinny little butt all the way back to your tavioka patch in Samabula....change baby’s nappy and get into that kitchen you lousy piece of ....”
Shalom
Judith Kumar, Syd, Oz.