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CAIRO TO DAMASCUS
what America—my America—had meant to me ever since I
had first left these shores so many years ago. What had America
meant to me? It had given me opportunities for growth unknown in the Old World. It had provided me with friends,
infinite and staunch, impossible to cultivate in the small nationalistic islands of Europe. One could always be sure of loyal
supporters in America, despite the enemies one made; always
be sure of an audience despite those who sought to shout one
down. One could always aspire to reach the top in the New
World, because there was always room at the top. America,
thank God, was no blind-alley country; there was always a
tomorrow, always a sunrise to herald a new day. The promise
of a future was with us, always.
My faith in my country had been strengthened and renewed
by what I had seen from CAIRO TO DAMASCUS. Even stronger
than before was my conviction that in America the good outweighed the bad; that evil in all its ugly forms was combated
constantly. This knowledge had spurred me to do my part,
however little, in exposing those forces dangerous to democracy, as I saw them, wherever I saw them. This had strengthened my hope that, in our country at least, hate, bigotry, and
other evils would ultimately disappear. . . .
At the Athens airport, waiting for the plane that would take
me home, I wandered about, still in this mood. On a bench I
picked up a copy of the European edition of the New York
Herald Tribune—the first American newspaper I had seen in
weeks. I was brought sharply back to reality. Here were disquieting reports—reports of political conflicts, of fear and hysteria
threatening to destroy our cherished freedoms, of subtle efforts
to thrust authoritarianism upon our people on the pretext of
fighting totalitarianism. I stood wondering: had I not already
seen two worlds—the East and the West—wracked by dissension, by narrow nationalisms, by selfish interests? Was my
country now beginning to travel the same paths? Were we—at
a time when half the world was engulfed by tyranny—begin'