Today, September 17, 2008, is Constitution Day in the United States. It is the day when we celebrate and remember our founders signing the U.S. Constitution in 1787!

Today, we can be proud that our Constitution was the first written and codified constitution in history. It is a contract between the American people and the U.S. government.

Today is also a time when we can meditate on the many struggles facing our country. As a nation, we find ourselves in two wars, our economy is in a downward spiral, and U.S. citizens and residents face unbridled assaults on our basic civil liberties, including the right to privacy and due process of law, voting rights, and the right to be free from torture.

I ask you to take a moment to reflect on the challenges that our forebears overcame to provide us with a viable democracy that allows us to amend the Constitution and improve the quality of life for future generations.

Even as we consider this year's election, arguably the most important election of our generation, let us remember the true meaning and legacy of our democracy. With our Constitution and its subsequent amendments, let us remember that we, as a people, have overcome slavery, although we must still eliminate its evil legacy; that we have legislated the equality of women, but we still have a long, long way to go; and that we must restore civil liberties for everyone!

Many years ago, in another time of great turmoil and doubt about the strength of our democracy, during the struggle for civil rights for African Americans, women's rights, and an end to the Vietnam War, I swore to uphold and defend the Constitution. For me, like you and millions of other Americans, the Constitution was not an abstract concept, but the promise, indeed the contract, that binds us as a free people with the guarantee that all men and women are created equal.

Although saddened by the loss of civil liberties and the current misadventures of our nation, we must not surrender and we must keep faith that we, as a people, will one day restore civil liberties and the rule of law. If we recommit ourselves to strengthen our nation, one day, once again, we will see the United States as a land of true democracy and equality, with justice for all.

Today, I ask you to recommit yourself as a defender of our Constitution and our democracy by joining UUSC and its work in defense of civil liberties and human rights! Today is worth remembering.

www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/constitution.overview.html

As the Senate caved in to President Bush and passed the FISA Amendments Act of 2008 (FAA), there were many debates on both sides of the issue. Some people argued that this law compromises our Constitution and civil liberties, while others believed the Democrats were right in passing it because it's the best available option. Others observed that, yet again, members of Congress — especially Democrats — don't want to be seen as "soft on terror" right before the elections.

I, too, followed these discussions and thought about how to write an analytical — and detached — blog post about this huge threat to our Constitution and civil liberties. Instead, I have decided to make it more personal because the FAA is not an abstract bill. It affects the lives of thousands of law-abiding people in the United States who are Muslim, Arab, or South Asian with no connections to terrorism but who are being illegally spied on. As the bill was passed, Senator Christopher S. Bond (R-MO), who was a lead negotiator, said there is nothing to fear "unless you have Al Qaeda on your speed dial."

Well Mr. Bond, I disagree. I am afraid. I am very afraid that my every move or word, spoken and written, is being evaluated based on preconceived, homogeneous notions of what Muslims look like or think or how they dress or behave. As I log onto Facebook, I screen myself and am more cautious about the stories I post or how I express my ideas and thoughts. When I see pictures of my brother posted online with him in traditional Arab attire, I am afraid that he will be unduly screened by authorities, his name will appear on a watch list, and he will be harassed the next time he travels. When my male family members and friends travel, I am relieved when I find out that they passed through security without being harassed or detained.

These are real fears and issues. These are not the reasons I proclaim myself to be a proud U.S. citizen. I am proud because the U.S. Constitution and the Bill of Rights guarantee my freedom of expression and protection against spying and the right to privacy. Unfortunately, the passage of this bill and the apathy of much of the American public towards this issue have robbed me of that pride. Instead, it has been replaced by fear, tinged with a slight hope that through the work of UUSC's Civil Liberties Program and other organizations, those rights will be restored — for everyone.

As a former combat medic who spent 18 months in Vietnam and nearly 7 years

as a therapist and acting team leader in Providence, R.I., with the VA's Readjustment Counseling Program (or Vet Centers), the Washington Post's May 16, 2008, story "Official Urged Fewer Diagnoses of PTSD" sounded familiar.

Watching another generation of soldiers and veterans face a repeat of history with the Iraq war, I am outraged and feeling a sense of déjà vu. Unfortunately, this war is costing veterans the ability to truly "come home."

In 1979, the year the American Psychological Association made post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) the official diagnosis for victims of war trauma, Congress finally authorized the comprehensive Vietnam Veterans Readjustment Assistance Act, which created Vet Centers, and I was hired by the VA. Throughout my VA service, I encountered attitudes that ran from indifference to open hostility towards veterans with PTSD. Other VA officials said virtually the same type of things as Norma Perez — psychologist and PTSD program team leader at the Department of Veterans Affairs' Olin E. Teague Veterans Center in Temple, Tex. — is quoted as saying in the Washington Post: "Don't tell vets they have PTSD because they'll want compensation" and words to that effect.

From the very beginning of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, I was one of many who cautioned, warned, and implored government officials at the Department of Defense (DOD), Department of Veteran Affairs (DVA), and Congress to increase the VA system's capacity for a substantial influx of returning soldiers with PTSD. In 2003 -2004, I attended DOD and VA briefings to voice concerns over a lack of resources and preparedness. Sadly, those warnings were ignored.

The problem is bigger than Perez or "repudiation [of PTSD as an issue] at the highest levels of DVA." Until government officials and the American people understand and accept that veterans' health care is a cost of war, their refusal to take PTSD seriously will amount to déjà vu - all over again.

This year at GA, UUSC was able to bring together exciting panelists to talk about who pays the price of the Iraq war, how families in Iraq and the United States have been devastated by the war, and how many veterans are speaking out.

Our speakers included Dahlia Wasfi, an Iraqi American who has traveled to Iraq twice since the 2003 invasion; Nancy Lessin, co-founder of Military Families Speak Out; Lindsay Burnett, who helped found Appeal for Redress; Camilo Mejía, of Iraq Veterans Against the War; and Andy Shallal, an Iraqi American who has helped found several peace groups and owns Busboys and Poets, in Washington, D.C.

The diversity of the speakers highlights the Civil Liberties Program's attempt to bring diverse groups together to work collectively to end the occupation. It also shows UUSC's commitment to freedom of speech and social justice by building coalitions.

Over the past few weeks, I was so busy planning GA events that I lost sight of how painful the content can be. Wasfi spoke eloquently of the pain and suffering of her family in Iraq, sharing disturbing pictures of not only what the current war has done to the country but of the huge role that the United States played in destroying vital infrastructure through economic sanctions in the 1990s.

Lessin shared painful stories of how military families feel betrayed by the government and how many lives of military families had been shattered by this war, even when a soldier survives to return home. Many of the veterans suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and struggle to get vital care. Suicide rates have skyrocketed. One poignant story she shared was of a woman who walked into her house only to find her three-year-old daughter beside the dead body of her father who had shot himself in the head. After that, she and her two daughters had to live in the basement because her kids were afraid that "Daddy's ghost" was in the house. They did not have enough money to pay for funeral expenses.

Mejía talked about how some of the things he was asked to do in Iraq disturbed him and how, when he returned to the United States, he could not convince himself to go back and applied for conscientious-objector status, only to be denied and sent to jail for nine months for desertion.

Burnett talked about the increase in substance abuse, violence, and suicide among soldiers due to the lack of resources for mental health care. On average, just one psychologist is assigned to 4,000 troops. Service personnel are allowed 30 minutes of therapy for a maximum of 4 sessions. Burnett also talked about how difficult it was for her and others to get medical care when they returned from Iraq. She emphasized that the military was built on the "backs of the poor" because so many who are in the service come from low-income households and joined just to survive.

Shallal spoke movingly about his family in Iraq and how they are suffering without adequate electricity and water in intensely hot weather — and how they lack security. He talked about how the U.S. military were not welcomed at all and how angry Iraqis feel about what this war has done to them.

So, who has paid the price of this war? The answer is all of us. It is clear that the ending this occupation is vital to begin the healing on both sides. During this important election year, we can work hard to make sure our voices are loud and clear. However, the presidential elections are not a panacea to all problems. Our work really begins when a new president has been elected.

Van Jones, founder and president of Green For All, based in Oakland, Calif., who delivered the UUA's Ware Lecture last night, bluntly said that the hard work of the last eight years was just flexing muscles for the real workout ahead. He said that the social-justice movement has become very successful in protesting and working against a powerful and irresponsible government. However, it is important to prove to those who have become disillusioned that people with progressive values, in government and in society, are prepared to govern and know what it takes to get this country back on track.

Camilo Mejía speaks with youth at a workshop on the war in Iraq.

Camilo Mejía worked tirelessly on behalf of UUSC this past week. Over the course of this year's General Assembly in Ft. Lauderdale, Fla., he presented at four workshops, an activist training, and two youth events — and still had time and energy to sign books at the UUSC booth.

Numerous UUSC staff have remarked that his contributions are always thoughtful and responses to questions gentle yet powerful — I couldn't agree more. For example, when asked if the withdrawal of troops from Iraq would produce chaos, Camilo's simple and direct response: "There already is chaos there." He followed up that assertion by likening the occupation and withdrawal of Iraq to a common occurrence: a house raid. "We invade your house, tie up the women and children, take the men. We shoot them. We break things. We destroy the home. And then instead of leaving, we say, we are going to stay in your home indefinitely because if we leave there will be chaos."

This reasoned, leading approach, as if he is extending a hand and inviting you to follow him, was particularly pronounced in Camilo's candor with the youth groups he interacted with throughout the week. Sitting among a group of high school-aged students on Saturday, he talked about military recruitment. Camilo spoke of his experience of "just happening to be home" when the recruiter called — a time when he was looking for friends and a community to belong to in the States.

Now, years later, he has the experience to explain what signing an enlistment agreement really means. He did not discuss "stop-loss" in a hysterical, fear-inducing tone; instead, he presented this counter-recruitment discussion in a calm, peaceful one, meant to give young people an accurate depiction of the devil's bargain that is offered to them.

At Saturday afternoon's program "Join Patriots and Veterans in Saying No to the War in Iraq," Camilo poignantly framed his internal struggle, which continues to inform his outward struggle. It's his grappling with these forces that makes him such a great activist. "We were trying to reconcile the people who we were with the people who we are after the war." His efforts to deal with the moral questions that came with participating in war "came with a lot of guilt, a lot of confusion, of fear, and of pain."

He acknowledges that veterans groups such as Iraq Veterans Against the War are the ones at the forefront of the resistance — protesting this unjust war and working hard with communities, faith-based groups, and NGOs, like UUSC, for change. Each time I heard him speak, I felt proud and privileged to be a part of an organization that partners with such courageous, outspoken people like Camilo. If you haven't heard him speak firsthand, I encourage you contact UUSC and arrange to invite him to your congregation or other community gathering to witness his courage — and to join hands with him.

Wayne Smith, Camilo Mejía, and Fatema Haji-Taki.

At the UUSC workshop entitled Bring the War Home, UUSC Associate for Civil Liberties Fatema Haji-Taki began by quoting Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy's recent majority opinion from the Boumediene decision (a writ of habeas corpus made on behalf of a Guantanamo Bay detention camp detainee), in which he declared that our rights are designed to withstand intense pressures, that our nation's Constitution should survive in extraordinary times. That decision, another razor thin 5-4 rebuke of the Bush administration's steady erosion of civil liberties, probably got less media attention than what some Hollywood celebs were up to that day.

In fact, media and its impact was a large part of the discussion. Camilo Mejía, who was court martialed and imprisoned for refusing to return to his post in Iraq after deciding the war was morally unjust, spoke to the group, telling how the mainstream media was not giving the full picture of the war from the outset. News outlets were not talking about the killing of civilians and not showing the blood and the suffering. Instead, they focused on the morale of the troops and whether it remained high in the name of patriotism. He reminded the audience that as much as mainstream media may choose what to report or ignore based on its parent company's interests, the independent media, bloggers, and activists have a power too - many times not fully realized - but which has enormous potential for impact.

Toward the end of the workshop, Haji-Taki reminded participants that another potential place for change is fast approaching in November, but she added that "elections are not a panacea." She noted that even with a White House and Congress that respects human rights, the hard work only begins after the election. We must struggle to ensure that our government respects its citizens enough to tell them the truth and to restore its peoples' constitutionally guaranteed liberties.

Iraqi refugee family from a mixed Sunni and Shia neighborhood in baghdad now living in Damascus, Syria. Photo by James Gordan, 2007. All rights reserved.

World Refugee Day is observed every year on June 20. According to a June 2008 report by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, the total number of people considered as refugees and internally displaced people amounts to 67 million.

On this day, it is important to reflect on how climate change, poverty, and conflicts (both long-standing and new) have ravaged the lives of millions of people who were forced to flee from their homes. It is also important to take this moment to pressure our government to provide more resources to assist and protect this vulnerable and sometimes forgotten population.

According to the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees, António Guterres, the number of refugees and displaced people are expected to continue to increase: "Now, unfortunately, with the multiplication of conflicts and the intensification of conflicts, the number is on the rise again...people being forced to move, unfortunately, will be one of the characteristics of the 21st century."

Over the past year, much of the increase in the number of refugees and internally displaced people can be attributed to conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq.

For the past year, UUSC's Civil Liberties Program has focused on The Cost of Iraq: Who Pays the Price?, drawing attention to, among others, the millions of Iraqis who have been displaced by the war. Since the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in March 2003, almost 5 million Iraqis have been forced from their homes by violence and insecurity. Almost half of those are "internally displaced," having fled elsewhere in Iraq. Others have fled to Egypt, Iran, Jordan, Syria, and other neighboring countries. Because the vast majority of these refugees do not have an official refugee status, they could be deported back to Iraq at any time. They face challenges in finding housing and employment, obtaining food, and accessing health and education systems, particularly in host countries.

The lack of security and the political deadlock in Iraq have contributed to this situation. These issues need to be addressed in earnest by members of the international community, especially the United States.

According to a June 28, 2008, article in the Christian Science Monitor, Sweden is home to the largest number of refugees in Europe, 40,000; while the United Kingdom houses about 22,000. To date, only 8,000 Iraqis have been settled in the United States. Recently, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice pledged that the United States will process applications for 12,000 Iraqi refugees by September. While this is good news, much, much more needs to be done for the millions of Iraqis displaced by the war.

UUSC supports legislation to assist Iraqi civilians and calls on Congress to increase funding for programs authorized under the Torture Victims Relief Act. We also advocate increased assistance for internally displaced Iraqis, Iraqi refugees in the region, and Iraqi refugees resettling in the United States.

"Where are you from?" has always been a tough question for me.

I was born and raised in Dubai, United Arab Emirates. However, due to citizenship laws that prevail in most Persian Gulf countries, I inherited the citizenship of my parents. They are Tanzanians of Indian descent. Thus, I was considered a Tanzanian citizen although I never lived there. My language and culture is dominantly that of my ancestors from Gujarat, India. I moved to Minnesota when I was 17 and strongly began to identify myself as a Minnesotan and to this day am very proud of the state's culture and progressive politics. As a Muslim, the tragedy of 9/11 and President Bush's policies that followed inevitably affected me and that is how I began my life in American politics. To top that, since I am a Shia Muslim, the war in Iraq has had a profound effect on me and my community as we see our beliefs and history displayed on all the major media outlets around the world.

Why am I sharing this with you? Well, on Friday, after living in the United States for eight and a half years, I was sworn in as a citizen of this country. It was one of the most important days of my life. Many of my family members and friends wonder why I would want to be an American citizen when the United States has violated the civil liberties of law-abiding Muslim, Arab, and South Asian Americans, has engaged in wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and has supported policies, including torture, that adversely affect Arabs and Muslims around the world.

My answer to them is that despite the destructive policies of the Bush administration, I have faith in the rights that are guaranteed to me by the Constitution. I strongly believe in the rights that have been enshrined in the Bill of Rights, especially those guaranteed by the First Amendment. These are the very rights that I exercise every day when I practice my religion freely as a Muslim American and express disagreement with the government on issues such as torture and the war in Iraq. The fact that I can write this blog entry is a testament to those rights. It is why I have chosen to work with the Civil Liberties Program at UUSC. Our program's goals are to restore and protect civil liberties that have been eroded under this administration for people like me.

As I was being sworn in as a citizen during my naturalization ceremony, I was humbled to be amongst 1,100 people from 85 countries who had chosen to take this step. I feel very strongly American and don't want anyone to ever question my patriotism or question my "American-ness" because of the way I look or the religion I follow or my political inclinations. For me, I finally feel I have found a place I can belong to and call home. It is here that all my identities merge and make it possible to be part of the American fabric that has been enriched by immigrants since the founding of this country. As Barack Obama has aptly said, "...for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on earth is my story even possible."

I watched a young man cry the other day. Tears streamed down his face as he described, in vivid detail, the atrocities he both witnessed and participated in, in Iraq. He, alongside other veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, was participating in a four-day conference called Winter Soldier.

The point of Winter Soldier, as I saw it, was two-fold. First, it provided a space for these damaged souls to raise their voices and build solidarity, while painting a picture of large-scale, systemic abuse within the military. Secondly, it aimed to grow the resistance movement within the military, a task that, after listening for four days, I realize is incredibly, painfully difficult.

I think about this today in the wake of Justice Sunday 2008, because, more and more, I am thinking about the value of life, the values of our society, and the moral questions this war raises.

This year, UUSC is asking UU congregations around the United States to examine the question: The Cost of Iraq: Who Pays the Price? I am finding, on close examination, that we are all paying the price, both economically and spiritually, for this ever-shifting mess we call the war in Iraq (part of the larger so-called Global War on Terror). Right now, if you examine the financial debt created by this war, there is no argument that, as a society, we will, indeed, pay an economic price for this war. Our kids, and our kids’ kids, will likely be saddled with the $3-5 trillion of debt created for this war.

But to me, far more distressing than this debt is the human toll of this war – the price that those waging this war, on the ground, are paying. After listening to four days of testimony, one thing is clear to me: when it comes to the war in Iraq, abuses within the military are not anomalous episodes that are limited to individual soldiers. They are the result of orders issued from the highest levels of our government.

Below are just a few of the snapshots from Winter Soldier, an event that should be examined by everyone who wants to understand the toll on humanity that this war is exacting.

*****

Dehumanization – Part 1
It was excruciating to hear soldiers’ first-hand experiences. More than once, I had to look down and focus inward, unable to listen to another story about death, destruction, or dehumanization alongside gross illustrations of ignorance and racism.

Take, for example, the way that four soldiers described in detail how they were forced to take pictures of the dead. Not pictures for documentation purposes or for keeping records of those killed in friendly fire, but what soldiers described repeatedly as “trophy photos,” photos of their “kills.” They described not only being congratulated on their first kills, but also being encouraged to photograph the dead, sometimes in front of community and family members, while other soldiers laughed, jeered, and, at times, mutilated the bodies.

When one soldier refused to take such a picture, he was hazed in a variety of cruel and dangerous ways – as punishment, he was given only a half-empty medical kit and not provided the gas mask that all other soldiers in his platoon carried.

Dehumanization – Part 2

There was the story of an 18-year-old soldier who signed up as a “foreign observer.” On September 11, 2001, from the small community he grew up in on Long Island, he had seen smoke rise from the twin towers. Angry, he made the choice to enlist, to fight for the things he held dear, his family, his town, New York, and America. But now, as I looked at him, he was something else entirely – deadened, quiet, pained. Testifying in front of cameras, he wished he could take that day back, that day of anger, when he chose war.

“I was a great soldier once upon a time,” he said. “But now I stand here doing more for my brothers than I ever did there.”

He told a story about pushing humanity’s limits, about dehumanizing the other, about the place that war can take us. Once, he saw a little boy on the side of the street holding up a small stick, as if to indicate a gun. The boy was about six years old, maybe playing at war the way many children do – a real life Iraqi version of cops and robbers, right there with an American soldier. But for the soldier, it was not a game. This soldier, the young man in front of me, told of his internal struggle not to shoot this boy, a six-year-old with nothing more than a stick in his hand. He was angry at this son of Iraq for things he had never done, for things he had nothing to do with.

When he told the audience of not shooting the boy, they stood up and clapped. How far has humanity gone when not shooting a six-year-old with a stick is something we can applaud?

That, in turn, made me cry.

*****

Abuses and the rules of engagement

Over four days, we saw other evidence of a disintegrating moral compass. Take the stories I heard about shovels, which are read by the U.S. military as indicators of Iraqi hostility. According to on-the-ground military protocol, an Iraqi who is simply walking on a road can’t be considered hostile simply by virtue of his or her existence. However, an Iraqi who is carrying a shovel on the road is an entirely different story. The argument is that shovels could be used to bury improvised explosive devices, or IEDs.

That’s why, in testimony after testimony, soldiers described how they carried shovels with them, sometimes entire truckfulls. The shovels provided cover in cases where an Iraqi was accidentally killed. By placing one next to him or her, that Iraqi was transformed into a hostile combatant. If the soldiers felt remotely threatened, they knew they could act with impunity – as long as they had a shovel handy. It was that simple.

But, in a country desperately struggling to rebuild, shovels are often necessary. People need to rebuild their homes, their schools, their mosques – and they often have nothing more than the labor their bodies can generate. In a country where shovels are ubiquitous with the effort to rebuild, the idea that a shovel alone indicates hostile intent is more than ironic – it’s criminally absurd.

But what about helping?

Sometimes cruelty came in other forms. We heard testimony about humanitarian rations, which, according to the soldiers I listened to, they were told not to hand out. One soldier told a story of how he was specifically ordered to stop handing out humanitarian rations, and only carry them. At the end of his deployment, on his return to Kuwait, he still had the rations with him. His sergeant told him to bury them. That’s just what he did, heart heavy – he buried the humanitarian rations he’d been carrying around.

Other soldiers told stories of “meals ready to eat,” or MREs, which are equipped with a chemical mechanism that heats the meal. By themselves, outside this meal-heating mechanism, the chemicals are dangerous. Many soldiers talked about giving these chemical packets, without the food, to young children. Others talked about throwing bottles of urine at people on the side of the road, driving their Humvees over the ruins of ancient Babylon, defecating in U.N. headquarters, and, possibly most sad, shooting and bombing mosques for no other reason than that they were there.

*****

Supporting our troops

I also heard the story of attempted suicide. One young man was charged with misconduct when he attempted suicide because, by making the attempt, he prevented his return to Iraq. Once he was dishonorably discharged from service, he lost his ability to get benefits from the army or go to college. He had few options open to him.

He decided to deliver pizzas, but only once a week, because he couldn’t handle more than that. Now, on some days, he gets so drunk he blacks out. That takes care of the pain. Sometimes, instead of going to his job, he spends his day at the VA hospital, begging for help to get him back on his feet. But so far, he’s gotten none.

This was the same man who’d seen the twin towers fall, who on September 11 was looking to kill. And, slowly, he got to the point where the only thing he wanted to do was die. He hated Iraqis, once upon a time. But where is he now?

Our responsibility

Winter Soldier is not a story of good and evil, where everything works out just so. It’s not black and white or us versus them. It’s a story of some of the darkest moments in American history; of systematic racism and imperialism; tradeoffs between human resources and human life; the erosion of faith in the military; and destructive aggression by an occupying power – the United States of America.

But this story is not just their story. It’s our story too, as citizens, as humans. We own this war. We pay for it. We vote for and against it. Few questioned the government when they told us that weapons of mass destruction existed or that Saddam Hussein was linked to Al Qaeda. We listened when they told us that we had to send more troops for the surge. We have failed too.

In the end, this is a story of judgment. It’s a story of coming to terms with anger and frustration towards the troops, who, in many ways, are the machinery that propels this war. It’s the story of my internal struggle with the issue of supporting the troops and what that means. In many ways, Winter Soldier helped me realize that it’s the troops who are leading this movement against the war, that they own this resistance movement.

Bumper stickers and flags are not actions of support; no, supporting the troops means listening to those who have waged this war, and then responding to what they need and what they know.

And, it’s up to us to do this.

So, look at it, watch the testimony, and hear for yourself.

 

Okay, let me get this right. There is a horrendous affordable housing shortage in New Orleans since Hurricane Katrina. According to Color of Change and human rights lawyer Bill Quigley, rents in New Orleans have gone up 45 percent, over 100,000 people have not yet returned to New Orleans, half of those who want to return make less than $20,000 a year, and 12,000 New Orleanians currently have no place to live. Now, in the face of this serious affordable-housing crisis, the city of New Orleans and the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) are planning to demolish 4,600 public housing units in the center of New Orleans.

Well, you might think that these public housing units must have been badly damaged by the hurricane and that they are only now getting around to bulldozing them.

But you would be wrong. Most of these units are in well-built structures, barely damaged by Katrina. Many of the units above the first floor were not affected by the flood waters. In fact, architects who have been taken on tours by UUA-UUSC partner The Advancement Project have testified that it would take minimal renovation for these buildings to provide decent housing.

While thousands of families are camped out in friends' living rooms, living in cramped trailers that FEMA is repossessing, or living in other cities waiting to go home, HUD wants to tear down solid brick buildings that would actually provide people with adequate housing.

Oh, and they want to do this before Christmas, apparently to make sure that the Katrina survivors in trailers and temporary houses get the point that "home for the holidays" most assuredly doesn't include them. HUD has said for the last year and a half that housing demolition orders for public housing take 100 days to review before approval. In the case of New Orleans public housing, they managed to speed it up a little. The review and approval took one day.

On the surface, HUD's stated goal to replace the the public-housing projects with affordable -housing units in mixed income areas could be a good strategy for affordable housing until you take a closer look at the numbers, and obstacles rooted in issues of race and class facing survivors of Hurricane Katrina. The new plan will demolish 4,600 units of affordable housing and rebuild 744. Rents have gone up 45 percent in New Orleans. Many of the African-American families who could raise the extra money for rent wouldn't be able to find landlords to rent to them. According to the Greater New Orleans Fair Housing Center, there has been pervasive racial discrimination in housing in New Orleans since Katrina. According to their report of April 2007, 57.5 percent of landlords discriminated against African-American renters.

The public housing residents have been fighting back for two years, trying to get the city council and HUD to come up with a better plan that would make maximum use of the resources that exist. Many UUA/UUSC Gulf Coast partners, such as People's Hurricane Relief Fund, C-3 Iberville, The Advancement Project, and the Women's Welfare Reform Project, are deeply involved in this struggle to stop the demolition of public housing. They are asking that the demolitions be halted so that a better -- and fairer -- plan can be put into place. The public housing units could be renovated easily and used as temporary housing for residents until new public-housing units are built.

Over 95 percent of the public-housing residents in New Orleans were low-income African Americans. HUD's goal should be to get low-income families back into decent housing in New Orleans as fast as possible. It's precisely low-income African-American families who face the twin obstacles of high rent and racial discrimination in the New Orleans housing market. If HUD moves forward with its plan to demolish the public-housing projects, it would be difficult not to conclude that their real goal is to keep low-income African Americans out of New Orleans.

Many groups are working hard to stop this travesty of justice as Christmas approaches. Please add your voice to theirs by clicking here to send an open letter to the New Orleans City Council.