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| We are living in interesting times. That old Chinese curse is snapping at our heels, and we find ourselves tripping at every other step because of it. This means that our grandchildren will be writing poorly worded essays about things they have no context for, and interviewing us to try and add zest to a dull assignment. But they will never feel it in their bones, the way we will never know the horror of Pearl Harbor, or the sorrow of the Challenger. We draw parallels between past and present, but somehow we know they fall tragically short. It is a new chapter; the lessons to be learned will be new lessons.
The crew of the Columbia would have been made Gene Roddenberry smile. An Indian-American, an Israeli, an African-American; two women, and five men; dreamers, scientists, and soldiers. "Star Trek" never had it so good. The Enterprise too was sent to explore, sent into the great beyond as a vessel for pioneers, though the Enterprise was infinitely more popular than the rinky-dink shuttle Columbia.
But slithering through the murky abyss of the human psyche there moves a great beast whose secret name seems synonymous with exploration. The secret name is Conquest, and it is a name to fear. From warring tribes in ancient Mesopotamia to English colonialism to the American battle cries of manifest destiny, our explorers bring pain and suffering to those who had already made it. Even Kirk killed Klingons.
This is the great lie of our explorations. We unite not over the exploration and the discovery, but over the great enemy we have created. Human beings are frighteningly incapable of getting along without an empire to destroy. Everyone, it seems, except seven souls lost the morning of February 1.
Seven souls, united to explore without conquest. To explore for the sake of furthering knowledge, and of furthering understanding. Columbia's voyage was made all the more symbolic by the diversity of it's crew, and by the presence of the first Israeli astronaut. The unity and solidarity the space program has inspired in some makes the bonds forged in war brittle in comparison.
As a nation whose sun is setting on a long day of peace, the point is driven damningly close to home. Is there a way to unite without war? If the possibility is there, however small, it is our only hope of salvation. Historically we have fallen back again and again on war, on unity over invasion, conquest, and bloodletting. And the unity always vanishes over time, the empire comes apart at the seams, until another war manifests itself. Are we capable of something more?
The world watched as the space shuttle Columbia came streaking back towards the planet it had come from. We watched as a space ship we had hardly noticed fell like a shattered angel, and the hopes we hadn't realized we'd been entertaining fell with it. The remnants split and split again, a chorus of stars raining down to earth.
Is is our duty to close our eyes and to wish upon those stars, to make our wishes in the same spirit as those seven astronauts following their bliss would have done. And when we open them again, to hold hands and step proudly forward. Not to conquer tomorrow, but to explore it. | |
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