Oriana Fallaci - A Fire in the Soul

Oriana Fallaci, Italian writer and interviewer, died today in Florence, Italy. This space will be dedicated to her, to her work, and to her loves - her companion and her white-hot love of freedom, her passion for Italy. The first attack of the feeble-minded Left is name-calling and Oriana Fallaci brought out the best in them. How quaint of critics to deny Oriana Fallaci the right to say about the Islamists what they say about themselves. Have we not heard the shouts in Iraq - "Death to America!"? Have we not just days ago heard some turban-clad man warn us to submit to Islam or die? One cannot but love this woman, Oriana Fallaci; this voice raised in defiance, "I will not go quietly into that good night, and you - by God - can't make me!" Herself an avowed atheist to boot. How much richer the Western world that Oriana Fallaci was present in New York City the day the towers came down. To have such a voice, such fire in one's Soul to equal that of the flames; to be uncompromised every step of the way; to raise her fist in rage. To put her rage before us on the page. Like Eleanor of Aquitaine riding into battle at age 70, Oriana Fallaci raised her voice against the gathering storm; she has raised that voice for years. Oriana Fallaci's work should be read and studied by all Americans contemplating the abyss and to all those who hold Western Civilization dear. The Rage and The Pride is a work of particular interest to the United States and to Italy. It rings even truer today if that is possible. The purpose of this tribute today is not to critique The Rage and The Pride. It is to salute a woman of courage and principle who shook her finger at the world, at the West, and said, "You are warned. Now, do something about it." Allow me one quotation from The Rage and The Pride:

I'd scream: "Illustrious Mr. Arafat, the martyrs are the passengers of the four airplanes that were hijacked and transformed into human bombs. Among them is a four year old little girl who disintegrated in the second tower. Illustrious Mr. Arafat, the martyrs are the employees who worked in the two towers and the Pentagon. Illustrious Mr. Arafat, the martyrs are the firemen who died trying to save them. And do you know who the heroes are? the passengers of the flight that was supposed to throw itself into the White House but instead crashed into the woods in Pennsylvania because they fought back!..."

One cannot do Oriana Fallaci justice in a paragraph or a book. It is her words and the passion in them that stirs men's Souls. It is her recognition of the enemy within the gates; it is her love of her treasured Italy; and yes, it is her love of we Americans as well and the mystic of the ideals upon which our nation was built. Read her work; feel her passion stir your heart; watch her stand on the side of the guardians of truth. And when you read her work, if you are very attentive, you can feel her breath upon your cheek and the warmth of her spirit as it beckons you to rise up. In this thing of Heaven and Hell, I have no doubt that Oriana Fallaci stands ready today at the side of the Archangel Michael, dressed in battle gear, breastplate gleaming, hair streaming, burnished sword flashing fire and light. One's belief or disbelief in God in no way alters His existence. I have to believe God knows warriors when He sees them. And He uses them to His purpose. And I can only imagine this defiant, brilliant, no-holds-barred woman sounding the battle cry, "Submit, Hell!" I have to believe that she gave up this mortal shell in peace. And to her many friends, remember well her last herculean act was to come home, to come home to you, to come home to Italy.....