Luke Nephew from Peace Poets

 

June 4, 2013
NYC, USA

Dear Brothers,
Salaam Alaykum. I pray with all my heart that these words find you strong in spirit. I need to tell you, I’m afraid to write these words to you. I’m afraid because I know these words, like all of our actions so far, have not been enough to liberate you from the insane injustices my government has carried out against you. But still I write.
I write to you today so that we may take a moment to dwell in our connection. We meet in a sacred space where people who seem so separate can recognize how are lives are so intimately intertwined. Today, I make the tiny sacrifice of fasting in solidarity with you so that I may stop, reflect and embrace our common struggle. Here, I join you in your thirst for freedom and your hunger for justice and your dream of peace…. Here, we are together.
As I write this to you from my house in New York City, I know many people all over the world are also connected to us in this same thirst and hunger and dream. We know the brutal forces of governments, militaries, war lords, mercenaries, murderers and torturers- we’ve seen human beings intoxicated with power and violent ideologies shove rifles and hatred into us and into the fragile hearts our families and our communities. We have felt this pierce our souls and experienced the natural cry of compassion filling our breadth and pouring out of our lips. We have not met… and yet many many many times we have prayed together, cried together, walked together, tried to hold onto dignity together.
Today, you do this precious work from within an American military prison and I am an American citizen. I want you to know that before I am American, I am human, and so I join you in your cry for compassion. I want you to know that I stand with you in resistance against any action that violates your rights or attacks your dignity. I join you in decrying the abuses of the American government or any other government. I join you in demanding justice and respect for all human life. I am with you in this demand. I am with you in this work. We are together and you are guiding us on the path we must walk toward justice.
The reason I believe you must guide us is because you are risking the most and suffering the most and so you understand, better than me, the urgency of the situation we find ourselves in. You feel it in your body as you enter into the 115th day of the hunger strike, as many of you are force-fed and almost all of you are kept in solitary confinement. You know exactly how desperately we need justice.

I have read many of your stories and cried many times at the harsh treatment you have endured. And now, again, in these desperate days, I have taken to the streets in protest, with the desperate hope of awakening the conscience of our people and our government. I sang songs for your freedom, stood in silent meditation, held up signs with your pictures and shared descriptions of your plight. I have blocked the doors of government buildings to call their attention to your suffering, fasted for days to draw myself closer to your struggle and I have prayed to our God, day and night, for you and your families and all the people everywhere who are tortured, imprisoned and oppressed. I have joined you in resistance. I have joined you in prayer. I have joined you. I am with you.

I began this letter admitting that I was afraid to write to you because I knew my words were insufficient to do what we all need them to do- but now, having expressed the ways that our lives and hearts and hopes are joined together, I am not afraid. Instead, I feel grateful.
I am grateful that our humanity is surviving these terrible times. I am grateful that instead of turning away from your pain, I’m turning toward you and sending you strength and love. I am grateful for the reminder of how amazingly strong our connection is. I am grateful for this place where we come together and dwell in our heart’s most basic natural desire for Peace. And I am so grateful that in this sacred place we are joined by the billions of mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters who want a world where all people enjoy dignity and freedom. We are all together here. As I write these words to you my brothers – locked up, beaten down, enduring torture and hunker striking for justice – my heart is not afraid because of you. I am strengthened by your courage and our connection.
My words cannot unlock your cells, but they can tell you this: You are never alone. And this can hopefully offer you energy to continue on your long brave walk to freedom. You will arrive. We will arrive. Inchallah.

Thank you for transforming my nervous words into bold convictions. May the transformations continue: From pride into humility, divisions into connections, countries into community, oppression into compassion, fear into love.
Last week some friends and I gathered in a park on a rainy day. Together we transformed the cold lonely park into a space full of human life’s preciousness – We sang a song to you that we have been singing for years and will continue to sing as long as this struggle continues. I close with the words of this song:

“Courage Muslim Brothers,
You do not walk alone.
We will walk with you,
And sing your spirit home.”

This is our promise. Your freedom is our freedom. Your struggle is our struggle. We love you as brothers. We are together.

Love and Courage,

Luke Nephew
of The Peace Poets

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