Each night, in the midst of exhausting work, I try to state the problem anew, to gather the threads, to see my way clear.
What can I tell you that you don’t know? Nothing. The frightening atmosphere—the climate of hate and violence—the incredible effort it takes to find oneself again, to get back to one’s overall view of the problem. I feel that unless decisions are taken in favor of negotiations, terrible things are bound to happen here. In your eyes I am no doubt too deeply involved in the system. Objectively I am participating in this war, on the side of the colonialists. My God, it’s not all so simple! The temptation was strong to go back home: “I’m not going to eat this kind of bread. I am a ...
For just $19.95 a year, get access to new issues and decades' worth of archives on our site.
Print + Online
For $35 a year, get new issues delivered to your door and access to our full online archives.