Honesty Over Hope
At least 50 people were murdered in two separate attacks on mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand last week. The attacker was a white man not much older than me, fueled by a hatred for immigrants generally and Muslims specifically.
I first heard of the attack Thursday evening, but truth be told, my immediate reaction was to ignore it, to try and avoid reading about it and learning the details for as long as possible, to put off the inevitable waves of horror and frustration and resentment and anger. To be honest, I never wanted to find out how many people died or whether or not the attacker would be condemned as a terrorist or what exactly he wrote in his manifesto. I certainly didn’t want to watch the attack unfold via livestream. I was having a good day. I was watching a basketball game with my friends, trying to figure out what UNC was going to do about Zion Williamson.
When I decided to stop distracting myself and tune in, I was upset, and I’ll admit, a little surprised. For some unclear reason I thought New Zealand was better than this. I’ve never visited the country, but I imagined it as a place where this kind of attack was impossible. Call it naive or call it childishly hopeful, I thought Kiwis were inherently more understanding, more accepting, more tolerant. However this attack and its aftermath have proven otherwise. The number of Muslims expressing their lack of surprise is damning, and serves as evidence that no place is safe from the growing danger of white supremacy.
In the aftermath of any tragedy, there’s a ceaseless and misguided attempt to reach for a common “We”, some sort of evidence that proves how united a population is, for example;
“We join New Zealand and Muslim communities around the world in condemnation of this evil…” (Ivanka Trump)
or
“We don’t back down in the face of Islamophobia and racism at home or abroad.” (Beto O’Rourke)
Which begs the question, who are “We” exactly, and how honest are “We” willing to be? Who cares about Muslim lives enough to consider them a part of our community? Am I supposed to disregard the way Muslims are treated in this country and act like the unity being claimed is my reality? I’ve never considered myself a part of any group that includes Ivanka Trump, and I’ve yet to see Beto O’Rourke appealing to Muslim voters or discussing policies that would benefit or protect us. So how much of these statements is truth, and how much is cheap, unfounded hope? And is hope more important than honesty in these moments of crisis?
Should I forget about the ongoing assault on Muslim civil liberties by Donald Trump and his administration, or the ruthless drone program promoted by Obama before him? What about the Bush administration’s endless wars on Muslim communities, both at home and abroad? Do I overlook the prominent role Hillary Clinton played in suppressing freedom and democracy in the Middle East? Am I meant to accept the press releases and tweeted condolences as genuine when the corresponding actions continue to destroy families and communities and countries that are predominantly Muslim?
With all due respect to the well-intentioned people pushing these narratives of universal hope, there comes an equal amount of due disrespect to those using this tragedy as an opportunity to mention that “while Muslims may have been the victims today, usually they are the perpetrators.” (Australian Senator Fraser Anning, who was on the receiving end of a vicious egg attack by one of his constituents after releasing this appalling statement)
I believe atrocities like this call for some self-examination. To treat Islamophobia as a new issue or a fringe issue, something beyond belief that we’ve just taken note of, is disingenuous. Islamophobia is as American as apple pie, and it’s been a crucial part of American foreign policy for decades. To suggest that we can all somehow come together in times of struggle is a nice thought, but it’s wishful thinking. Whether a church in South Carolina or a synagogue in Pittsburgh or a temple in Wisconsin, worshippers have been murdered during their most sacred time, by the all too common and growing threat of white supremacists. The fact that many of those in power refuse to acknowledge this threat is all the evidence needed to see through their flowery language.
All of these attacks are motivated by the same rhetoric and ideology espoused by Trump, who has insisted on banning Muslims from entering the US and talked about Muslims being killed with bullets dipped in pig’s blood. But it is not the fault of Trump alone. This same line of thinking is broadcast daily by the Tucker Carlson’s and Bill Maher’s and Milo Yiannopoulis’ (Yiannopouli?) and Ann Coulter’s of the world, as well as by any media outlet that gives a platform to bigots with nothing but ignorance and hate in their hearts. We can’t provide a forum for the intolerant and xenophobic and then be surprised when acts of terror cite those spewing hate.
Our thoughts and prayers have never been enough, just as they are never enough in the aftermath of school shootings here in the United States. White supremacy must be called out and countered, discriminatory treatment of Muslims, Jews, or any marginalized community should be taken seriously and opposed vehemently. To be silent is to be complacent. To be surprised is to lack awareness of what’s really going on. For some, silence might be comfortable, but it is also unacceptable. Calls for hope and unity may be coming from a good place, but they are too short-lived to be considered honest, and the action (or inaction) of those in power echoes louder than any sympathetic words or press releases.
New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern has been a perfect example of how those in power should respond in times of tragedy. Her actions have spoken louder than any tweet or public statement, as she has already started pushing gun reform legislation to help protect the community. She has met with the families of the deceased and promised to cover the funeral costs of those killed. She has guaranteed the families of the victims financial assistance going forward, and she wore a hijab when meeting with the families, not as an ill-timed photo opportunity, but out of a genuine sense of honor and respect for those who lost their lives.
Initial reports suggest that the attacker was greeted at the mosque by a man whose last words were, “Hello brother”, welcoming him to the masjid with open arms and paying for his kindness with his life. For so many Muslims, this perverse irony hits hardest. Sharing our faith with others has always been complicated, but we try to open our doors and welcome members of the community just as we try to integrate and serve our communities. Try as we may, Muslims continue to be on the receiving end of verbal and physical attacks by the same people we hope to connect with. No matter where they take place, these attacks always hit home.
