As I write, the Gaza Genocide enters its 142nd day. The official death toll reported by the Gaza Ministry of Health is 29,692 people but the real death toll is surely twice as large–if not even greater–when accounting for all those still buried under the rubble, those killed with hunger or thirst or disease, those families exterminated leaving no one to report their martyrdom, and many others. With each day since 7 October, our own complicity in this crime of crimes and the need for action against it increases. Each day that we do not stop this is another day we let this insanity continue. We owe it to everyone who has been killed, wounded, displaced, or lost family. We owe it to the survivors, their children, and their grandchildren. We owe it to all those victimized by Zionism and Western imperialism. We will be asked–whether in this life or the next–what we did to stop this atrocity. One young man, named Aaron Bushnell, can answer that, for a few moments, he willingly endured the same suffering subjected upon the Palestinian people to protest his own role in and his government’s active support for their genocide. This crisis reaches a new rock bottom every day, through which we break every time, hurtling closer to Hell.
I present to you William Lloyd Garrison’s letter, entitled ‘To the Public,’ which began his over 30 years long crusade against slavery. Shortly after writing, Garrison was asked why he felt such urgency in the Abolitionist struggle. He replied: ‘I have a need to be all on fire, for I have mountains of ice about me to melt.’ In the nearly two centuries since, the mountains of ice have grown and they are crushing humanity. The moral urgency has not changed, the moral stain no less severe. Our crusade against the demonic Zionist regime and its supporters must be no different–no matter the cost.
-R. Ashlar
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From The Liberator
January 1, 1831
To the Public:
In the month of August, I issued proposals for publishing “THE LIBERATOR” in Washington city; but the enterprise, though hailed in different sections of the country, was palsied by public indifference. Since that time, the removal of the Genius of Universal Emancipation [Benjamin Lundy’s anti-slavery newspaper] to the Seat of Government has rendered less imperious the establishment of a similar periodical in that quarter.
During my recent tour for the purpose of exciting the minds of the people by a series of discourses on the subject of slavery, every place that I visited gave fresh evidence of the fact, that a greater revolution in public sentiment was to be effected in the free states–and particularly in New-England–than at the south. I found contempt more bitter, opposition more active, detraction more relentless, prejudice more stubborn, and apathy more frozen, than among slave owners themselves. Of course, there were individual exceptions to the contrary. This state of things afflicted, but did not dishearten me. I determined, at every hazard, to lift up the standard of emancipation in the eyes of the nation, within sight of Bunker Hill and in the birth place of liberty. That standard is now unfurled; and long may it float, unhurt by the spoliations of time or the missiles of a desperate foe–yea, till every chain be broken, and every bondman set free! Let southern oppressors tremble–let their secret abettors tremble–let their northern apologists tremble–let all the enemies of the persecuted blacks tremble.
I deem the publication of my original Prospectus unnecessary, as it has obtained a wide circulation. The principles therein inculcated will be steadily pursued in this paper, excepting that I shall not array myself as the political partisan of any man. In defending the great cause of human rights, I wish to derive the assistance of all religions and of all parties.
Assenting to the “self-evident truth” maintained in the American Declaration of Independence, “that all men are created equal, and endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights–among which are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” I shall strenuously contend for the immediate enfranchisement of our slave population. In Park-street Church, on the Fourth of July, 1829, in an address on slavery, I unreflectingly assented to the popular but pernicious doctrine of gradual abolition. I seize this opportunity to make a full and unequivocal recantation, and thus publicly to ask pardon of my God, of my country, and of my brethren the poor slaves, for having uttered a sentiment so full of timidity, injustice and absurdity. A similar recantation, from my pen, was published in the Genius of Universal Emancipation at Baltimore, in September, 1829. My conscience is now satisfied.
I am aware that many object to the severity of my language; but is there not cause for severity? I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not wish to think, or speak, or write, with moderation. No! no! Tell a man whose house is on fire, to give a moderate alarm; tell him to moderately rescue his wife from the hand of the ravisher; tell the mother to gradually extricate her babe from the fire into which it has fallen;–but urge me not to use moderation in a cause like the present. I am in earnest–I will not equivocate–I will not excuse–I will not retreat a single inch–AND I WILL BE HEARD. The apathy of the people is enough to make every statue leap from its pedestal, and to hasten the resurrection of the dead.
It is pretended that I am retarding the cause of emancipation by the coarseness of my invective, and the precipitancy of my measures. The charge is not true. On this question my influence,–humble as it is,–is felt at this moment to a considerable extent, and shall be felt in coming years–not perniciously, but beneficially–not as a curse, but as a blessing; and posterity will bear testimony that I was right. I desire to thank God, that he enables me to disregard “the fear of man which bringeth a snare,” and to speak his truth in its simplicity and power. And here I close with this fresh dedication:
Oppression! I have seen thee, face to face,
And met thy cruel eye and cloudy brow;
But thy soul-withering glance I fear not now–
For dread to prouder feelings doth give place
Of deep abhorrence! Scorning the disgrace
Of slavish knees that at thy footstool bow,
I also kneel–but with far other vow
Do hail thee and thy horde of hirelings base:–
I swear, while life-blood warms my throbbing veins,
Still to oppose and thwart, with heart and hand,
Thy brutalising sway–till Afric’s chains
Are burst, and Freedom rules the rescued land,–
Trampling Oppression and his iron rod:
Such is the vow I take–SO HELP ME GOD!
–William Lloyd Garrison
