One of the advantages of the president being your childhood chum is that you have the president’s ear occasionally. I had spent my entire academic career specializing in the study of nonviolent civil disobedience, and a small handful of movers and shakers had begun to notice my work before Lt. True and his occupation force arrived.
When newly independent Sirius 4 found itself invaded by its former ruling world, naturally free people bristled. Even those who were not so certain independence was a good idea found themselves insulted by the thought that Mama Earth was going to bring her errant child back in the fold unilaterally.
The call for armed resistance arose within hours of True’s announcement, and the war would have flamed up even sooner if the good lieutenant had not had the good sense to release “Senator” Sinclair into his own custody after a day of house arrest – with strict instructions to behave himself and not go off leading an armed insurrection or anything of that sort, which Badiah of course clearly intended anyway.
“We are playing into True’s hands if we meet this with violence,” I said at the first opportunity when Badi accepted my request to visit him. “The first peacekeeper who’s killed or wounded will be their excuse to crack down even harder, and independence will be that much more elusive.”
“Either that, or Earth won’t have the stomach for their sons and daughters being killed in a meaningless war light years away,” Badiah replied. “What do you suggest, hugging them into submission?”
I laughed. I had to, he was right, responding to armed occupiers with love and forgiveness was a hard sell with people. But I had something in mind less passive than that.
“We can choose noncooperation,” I offered. “Just don’t accept their authority. Ignore it. Go about our lives as if they aren’t there and haven’t laid down their stupid laws. What are they going to do, arrest us all? There’s not enough room in the jails for all of us.”
“They can hurt us. They can kill us,” President Sinclair replied softly. “I’m not going to allow that. If they’re ready to use lethal force, and they are, then we strike first.”
“Kill them because they’re prepared to kill us – even though they actually haven’t tried yet?”
“Yet, Ray – they haven’t killed anyone yet, not since Jim Simmons – but they will, unless we submit to their tyranny again. It’s us or them.”
“There’s always a third way!” I cried. He knew what I meant.
But we didn’t choose the third way, not Badiah, not most of the rest of us. Sirians fought against tyranny the old-fashioned way: Guns, knives, lasers, and when all else failed, bare hands.
And in the end, this time Badiah Sinclair was right. Earth would have no stomach for filled body bags coming home from Sirius 4. I knew he wouldn’t take my advice, but I had to try, because I also was fairly certain what would happen next.
Entry 33. The resisters
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