Back in 2008, I heard about a young Palestinian named Ibrahim Abu Jayyab, who made campaign calls to the U.S. urging Americans to vote for Obama, who he thought would help the Palestinian cause if he became president. When I interviewed Obama in Indianapolis that year, I told him about Ibrahim, and asked him how, if elected, he might repay youth like Ibrahim who advocated on his behalf and who sought his help.
Not prepared to answer such a specific question, especially one calling into question the U.S.’s long-standing policy of blind support for Israel, Obama responded vaguely, talking about how the U.S. needs to be a beacon of hope for young people all around the world.
Four years later, Obama is vowing to veto the Palestinians’ bid for membership in the United Nations, a move that will no doubt please the Israelis but be received by the Palestinians (and much of the Arab world, for that matter) as a slap in the face. (Here’s a great article that summarizes the issue.)
The president has not lived up to his own goals and many people’s expectations in regard to the Palestinian plight. He’s backtracked on moderate statements, let Israeli PM Benjamin Netanyahu drive the discussion, and refused to stand up to the Israel lobby in America.
Though Obama didn’t respond to my question three years ago, his planned veto provides a clear answer. If I’m disappointed by Obama’s response, I can only imagine how dissatisfied Ibrahim must be.
In my most recent posts, I’ve discussed the terrorist attacks in Norway, offering quite a depressing analysis of their causes and implications, many of which are related to Islamophobia in America. Fear of Muslims existed in the American psyche before September 11, 2001, but the terrorist attacks ten years ago only amplified and cemented those feelings for many Americans.
Despite the horrible backlash we’ve seen against Muslims in the wake of 9/11, I am quite optimistic about the future of America and its relationship with its Muslim community. The United States, unlike Europe, has an identity rooted in diversity and faith, and re-embracing these values will allow us to fight back against the Islamophobic forces in our society.
When immigrants began coming to America 400 years ago, they sought a place that would embrace their differentness. When they established our country decades later, America’s founders intended to make our nation a place for diversity and the mixing of cultures. Unlike those in Europe, our identity as Americans is defined by the fact that there is no one language, ethnic background, or religious affiliation that we all share. Ironically, our unity stems from our differences.
Some Americans want new immigrants (like Latinos and Muslims) to ‘assimilate’ into American life and culture. But is it possible to assimilate into diversity? Participation in our society doesn’t mean conforming to arbitrary standards that the often too powerful majority would like to set. Rather, being an American means adding one’s unique history and perspective to the already-colorful American landscape.
If we look back on our history, most minority ethnic or religious groups have experienced discrimination and marginalization, especially during periods of economic uncertainty and war. Catholics, Japanese, blacks, and Jews were perceived to be un-American and their racial, religious, or national heritage was seen as incompatible with being a loyal American. Today, labeling members of these groups as un-American seems laughable—these people are irreplaceable contributors to American life.
Today, we see the marginalization of Muslims in the movement to ban sharia, attempts to block the construction of Islamic centers, and hate protests and crimes directed toward Muslims and their institutions. But looking back at our history, we see that it is possible for us to outgrow our fear of the ‘other’ as we begin to see the important contributions that minority groups make to our society.
My hope in American progress and the eventual acceptance of the ‘other’ lies in stonework that was recently erected on the Washington Mall: the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial. Fifty years ago, the persecution and marginalization of African-Americans was rampant and deemed appropriate by many Americans, and today, an African-American prophet is honored among the founders of our country and a black man leads our nation as president.
The United States is also fortunate to be a country rooted in religion. In a recent Pew report, over 80% of Americans identified themselves with a particular religious tradition. This is in contrast to the increasingly secularized Europe, where most citizens say that religion does not play an important role in their lives. The levels of religiosity in America and Europe directly correlate to the regions’ level of acceptance of Muslims. Religious people in America have something in common with Muslims—a belief in God and a devotion to their faith life—as opposed to Europeans who lack this point of commonality. Thus, the marginalization and discrimination of Muslims has been far less in America than in Europe.
Recognizing and embracing America’s unique claims on diversity and faith will help us respond to the Islamophobia plaguing our country. Thanks to these two values, America has a chance to reverse anti-Muslim sentiment before it escalates to the level it has in Europe (where we see openly Islamophobic political parties, infringements on Muslims’ religious freedom, and violent attacks, culminating the terrorism committed by Anders Brevik in July.)
Yesterday, diversity and faith were brought together at the 9/11 Unity Walk in Washington. Teenagers in yarmulkes, mothers in hijabs, small children, and little old ladies strode down Embassy Row, visiting houses of worship, asking questions, andsharing their experiences of faith in America. We heard from religious leaders and interfaith activists like Tony Blair, Karen Armstrong, and Arun Gandhi, Mohandis Gandhi’s grandson. A D.C. gospel choir sang on the steps of the mosque, nuns gave out cookies at the Vatican embassy, and the Islamic call to prayer was recited at the synagogue.
I was most struck by my experience at the Islamic center as I stood in a long line of girls and older women, waiting to enter the prayer room. As a sign of respect, women must cover their arms, legs, and hair in the mosque (traditionally men dress conservatively as well,) and girls like me, who were clad in shorts and t-shirts for the hot weather, had to wait to be offered a long jellabiyya and colorful scarf before going in.
Many American women misunderstand Islamic covering and feel that it is demeaning, and knowing this I was overwhelmed almost to tears by the enthusiasm of these non-Muslim women, who chose to cover themselves to enter the mosque. These women chose to challenge the deep assumptions Westerners have about Islam and women, and decided to be open-minded and curious, withholding judgment until they’d had the experience. While it was clear that all the women were not fully comfortable with covering (myself included—and I cover quite often,) that didn’t stop them from participating or asking questions respectfully.
This attitude of openness and respect imbued the walk, and I wish that more Americans could have seen this wonderful example of how we must engage with those who are different from us.
9/11/11: A new date to remember
September 11, 2001 marked the beginning of a decade of divisions—political, religious, and social. It will remain on our calendars and in our hearts as a day of mourning for generations.
Now, September 11, 2011 offers us an opportunity to begin a new decade, one in which we choose to foster unity through an engagement with diversity and faith. Let’s make sure we remember this new date, too, and hopefully in ten years, we’ll look back on September 11 not only with sadness, but also with joy.