Mariane Pearl's husband Danny was a Wall Street Journal reporter
kidnapped and killed by extremists in Karachi, Pakistan, early in 2002
when she was pregnant with their first child. She describes her life
and her struggles to promote peace and dialogue since that time.
Mariane, also a journalist, is a member of the SGI. Her book A Mighty
Heart: The Brave Life and Death of My Husband Danny Pearl is published
by Scribner.
[Kiyotaka Shishido]SGI Quarterly: Can you share with us how you have dealt with your anger, sadness, and shock?
Mariane
Pearl: It's an ongoing battle. It really is the knowledge that if I was
going to be bitter, if I was going to be overwhelmed with anger, then
there is some claim that those who killed Danny would have on me. And
that is something I could not let them have. For me, living as a bitter
person because of that, living as an angry person, is for me like
living half-dead. So the challenge that I made the moment I learned of
Danny's death was if I was going to live, I had to be alive, I had to
trust, to love, to give and live as a whole person.
One
incentive for doing that is Danny. I strongly believe that because he
did the same thing, I was able to do it, too. He didn't give his
captors anything. Whatever the physical aspect, the violence, you
cannot get hold of a strong spirit. Danny, until the very end, was
completely whole. He didn't give them anything. I had no doubt about
it, and because I knew that I could not do less. He opposed them in the
face of death, and I oppose them in the face of life. I knew that was
going to be the most difficult thing to do, but I had to do that most
difficult thing. So really it is not forgiveness. It is a defiance
through my winning. I have no desire or incentive to forgive those
people. I am his resolve, and our son Adam is his resolve.
Symbolically, I was the first target after Danny. That's why I had to
stand up.
The minute I found out about Danny's death, that
moment, I had this deep understanding inside, and that is a benefit of
my Buddhist practice. I knew exactly what my response should be. I knew
without a shadow of a doubt that that is what Danny did. It was so
clear. It was also the hardest moment of my life, because at that
moment, to say "If I live, I want to be happy again," was almost
unnatural, very daring. But I knew that was the answer.
I was
all by myself in the same way that Danny was by himself--we were really
close at that moment, we were living exactly the same thing. When he
died, I knew we could not make our victory real if both of us were dead.
I
was the only one who could stand up the next day and say, "That's what
we're going to do." Not because I wanted to go on, but because I
understood exactly what I had to do.
SGIQ: I am struck by the title of your book, A Mighty Heart. . . .
MP:
Danny was a very warm, smart, very loving person. At the same time, he
was a very ordinary person. I don't want Adam to think his father was a
hero. He was able to stand up against those people when he understood
he was going to die because the ground on which he walked was so solid.
His ground was his ethics, his journalism, who he was as a person. At
the moment of facing death, he didn't abandon any of that. When I knew
about his death, I didn't refute any of it, either. That will be
transmitted to Adam. I still believe in a world where people should
work together, I still believe in altruism, in tolerance, in justice,
all those elements that were the basis of our lives. All of those were
so strong, so solid in us. I think that's why, at the moment of dying,
he could say, I'm proud of who I am, as a journalist, as an American, a
Jew, a man.
I know that at no point Danny begged, and I know
that through, for instance, the photographs of him. In one there is a
gun pointed at him and he has a smile on his face--how much stronger
can you be than that? In another one he had shackles, but he's doing V
for victory, and in the other he gives the finger. Every way possible
he communicates his spirit. I think that's what I call a mighty heart,
someone who holds onto their belief until the end.
[Kiyotaka
Shishido]The people around us then became like that, too. There were
Jewish people, there were Buddhist people, there were Muslims, there
were Hindus, and there were Christians. Everybody at some point said,
wow, we are the world--while the people who hold Danny have the
opposite vision like the fascists had. It was like two visions of the
world were confronting each other. My friend Captain, for example, he
was a practicing Muslim--but we had the same goal. That was what
mattered. We were all together to save an innocent man. It was like two
opposite visions of the future that were fighting so hard. It is
definitely a spiritual and mental battle, there is no question about
that. Like if you retaliate physically--it would be so easy to kill any
of those guys who hurt Danny--it wouldn't take me one minute.
But
it is more difficult to do what I am doing. If I kill that guy, I'm not
winning, I'm just keeping the vicious cycle going, because his son is
going to hate me and maybe kill me, and my son, and it is going to go
on like this. You can't fight them on their ground because it doesn't
make any sense. It is a mental and spiritual battle.
That's how
they recruit them, that's how in terrorist camps they are trained to
lose their empathy--you can kill someone because you have convinced
yourself that this guy is the enemy. You lose completely your empathy.
That's what happens. So the only way to retaliate is to have more
empathy and decide to save more people. That's the real battle. If you
fight with weapons, they are always going to be more ruthless than you.
SGIQ: So how can we fight terrorism?
MP:
Hope and compassion are the only real tools against terrorism. The more
people have hope, the more people have empathy, the more people have
determination. . . .
There is the law enforcement part and the
political part, and I really hope that the UN will play its role. But
ultimately we as ordinary people have to confront the terrorists and
deny them their goals. I have seen the thousands of young men whose
frustration makes them easy targets for recruiters. You know they go to
mosques and recruit people, and they tell them that the Americans are
the enemy, you should not hesitate to kill a Jew, and how it is holy to
kill an American. It's all psychological. So you can only oppose with
mental resistance. If it's revenge, they already won. If your mental
resistance is based on revenge, that's it--they have claimed some human
part of you. In that case we'd be like animals ourselves.
Being
human is having this kind of spirit that you can't get hold of. Only
because Danny was human was he able to show humanity to those people.
It's only by cultivating our humanity that we can do that. There's all
the reasons in the world to be fearful, to be depressed, but I have to
tell people something they don't want to hear--it is about individual
responsibility. Journalists are going to have to be more compassionate,
you're going to have to reach out to Muslims, go where you are told not
to go. They want to stop people traveling because that's how you build
bridges between people. No, you have to go and travel. You should be
careful, but if you stop reaching out to others, you are doing what the
terrorists are seeking, they want a clash of civilizations. They want
to stop dialogue. It's an act of resistance.
SGIQ: At first you said you thought SGI President Ikeda was naive and idealistic in promoting dialogue . . .
MP:
Now I've had to have the courage to admit myself that it is the only
powerful weapon we have. When you say that to people, they think it's
such a lame thing--what can dialogue do against violence? But it's real
and it's true. That's why I found sometimes my message is so difficult
to get through. People want to fight, bomb and retaliate because it
feels better. To go and fight, they think that's fine. You tell them
no, when they want a clash; go instead, reach out--it works. How can I
hate Pakistanis--one of my best friends, Captain, is a Muslim and a
Pakistani. This man has been giving his life to try to save Danny, and
then to bring justice to Adam and me. So it's a difficult message to
convey because it does start with yourself, and sometimes I say to
people, yes, you, in your kids' school, in your community--start a
dialogue with the Muslims there--there's always something you can do.
[Kiyotaka
Shishido]That's a difficult thing to admit. Not only are they attacking
me, but I have to reach out to them. That's what being human is
about--it's about resistance and a higher spirituality--there are two
forces, one wants to bring you to your lowest common denominator which
is this jungle thing, you hate me, I hate you, and the other wants to
bring you to the more elevated answer.
It's such a fight for
peace. It's a battle, it's nothing soft. It's a very demanding struggle
because you're always going to come to a point where you're confronted
with loneliness. It's about two possible futures for humanity fighting
each other.
Once you understand that notion, maybe you start
being able to empower yourself. Once you start that going, even if it's
dialogue, power will come to you as you do it. It has to start from you
first. But it's unbelievable the number of people who don't want to see
me strong. They want to see a weeping widow, because it doesn't destroy
their understanding of how things should be.
SGIQ: You want each person to stand up.
MP:
It's a difficult message. You tell them that you can't make real
changes if you don't start from yourself. The only thing I can do to
provide hope is to say look, I did it, and I did it in the worst
circumstances and that's the only way. I tell them, if I was counting
on any government to get me out of this situation, what would I do,
where would I be now? Where would I find any hope? If I was counting on
politics, or economics even, any other set of values, I could not be
here.
SGIQ: So what is needed?
MP: There is a need for
more in-depth journalism, more lateral journalism. To help people
understand the situation in depth. You're dealing with people who
psychologically know us much better than we know them. This can't be
left in the hands of law enforcement or politicians. Only human beings
can bridge these divides--only real human contact can do that.
They want to destroy hope, therefore I shall preserve it by any possible means.
They want to kill trust. Thus I will reach out to others, Africans, Asians, Arabs, Americans and Jews alike.
They
want to imprison people in labels and stereotypes. I will strive to
maintain a dialogue, always focusing on the individuals rather than the
symbol.
They want to kill joy in me, thus I will laugh again.
They want to paralyze me, therefore I will take action. They want to silence me--therefore I will speak out.
From a speech given by Mariane Pearl in Sydney, Australia in March 2004.
Three friends climb a treacherous mountain to find out what is
glittering at its summit. Faced with unexpected challenges, they learn
the power of creativity and imagination, which will help them in their
quest. 
The unhappy Sachiko can’t stand the sight of food and is becoming more
and more frail and ill. The Moon, who watches over all the world’s
children, sends a magical rabbit to intervene. 
The haughty young prince of Jambe learns from a humble village boy what a true prince is. 
A story about the friendship between a lonely boy and a magical deer he saves from hunters. 
In devastated postwar Japan, hope and courage are found in unsuspected
places. Amidst burnt out buildings and blackened fields, a young boy
discovers an aged man tending an old, apparently dead cherry tree. A
story about the power of hope. 
A princess and her animal companions venture into the formidable desert
in search of a water source to save their ailing kingdom. In the course
of their difficult journey, they discover the key to reviving their
land.
