TUCSON, Ariz.—Dear President Bush:

Ten years from now, I do not want to live in a world of random violence and endless war. If you continue pursuing your present policies in the “war on terror,” I fear for the future. That is why next week I will be in New York City, protesting your party’s nominating convention.

I have decided to extend you the courtesy of a letter explaining myself—although I am confident you will not read it. Likewise, I am resigned to the fact that you will surely ignore the hundreds of thousands of others who gather in the streets of New York next week. Your campaign has already indicated as much publicly. So why protest? And why write?

No doubt the very fact that I am a protester makes it easy for you to write me off as an “extremist”—a term your campaign seems fond of affixing to opponents these days. As a college student in Cambridge I, admittedly, fit the stereotype. But I am also a voter from the key swing state of Arizona, and I live in a congressional district which has voted for the same Republican since 1984. If I am an extremist, it is only in the sense that I care more deeply about the future of our country than most and fear more gravely the damage your reelection will entail.

Your fundamentalist views of the world are one of the greatest threats to peace on the planet. Your administration’s naive, militaristic, “good-versus-evil” approach to fighting terrorism has been inadequate at best and seriously counterproductive at worst. Although some aspects of life in Afghanistan and Iraq have improved (and may potentially still), today they have become the rallying points and new training grounds for future terrorists worldwide. Although you like to boast on the campaign trail of the number of al Qaeda operatives arrested under your watch, the hard reality is that your deadly wars have been responsible for countless new terrorist factions, recruits and supporters. You have transformed the good will of the world following Sept. 11 into widespread ire and disgust.

Do not misunderstand me: The enemies of the United States are real, and they are exceptionally determined. But they are people, human beings. The so-called “war on terror” is not a battle against evil-incarnate. It should be a campaign to prevent desperate, angry people from taking up arms against us—and when they do so to defend the world from their attacks. It should not be a war of preemption against a list of potential adversaries; it should be a program of crucial preemptive action against the poverty, ignorance and political oppression which create the conditions under which terrorist groups thrive.

To be sure, many Americans feel safer knowing that the commander in chief sees the world as you do—even those whose worldviews contain shades of gray. I know this because I have spoken with many of them, some of whom are close friends and family members. Many are Jews who have grown frustrated at the steady stream of terrorism in Israel. Others are New Yorkers, who witnessed first-hand the slaughtering of innocent fellow citizens. Still others, knowing nothing of terrorism beyond what they’ve seen on TV, look to someone (anyone) resembling a strong leader in hopes that they’ll keep them safe. Americans are afraid, and you have taken every opportunity to remind them why they should be.

Despite the ineffectual and dangerous nature of your policies, many Americans dare not question your approach to fighting this war. (It helps, by the way, that the Democrats have so rarely provided any substantive alternatives.) Any opening, they say—and you remind them—will be exploited by our enemies. It is this paranoid logic which extended the Cold War decade after decade.

Your view of the world prevents any substantive dialogue about why people resort to terrorism. No matter the extent to which we may agree that terrorism is wrong, it is simply insufficient to argue that terrorists become terrorists because they are evil. You may believe that—and your policies certainly reflect that belief—but in terms of making the world a safer place, that belief leads only toward the escalation of violence.

And that is why I will be in New York.

A friend asked me the other day what I hoped to accomplish by protesting. She pointed out, as I did above, that members of your party don’t care what I have to say, and that even if they did, inevitably my message will get drowned out in the cacophony of dissent. Surely it is better to simply let the GOP convene in peace and go about my own business. She has a point.

But 10 years from now I don’t want to look back and chide myself for what more I could have done. I don’t want to stop believing that maybe in our democracy, just maybe, you would hear our call.

Benjamin J. Toff ’05, a social studies concentrator in Winthrop House, is editorial chair of The Crimson. He will be in New York.