Anti-Muslim Sentiment Threatens Our National Security
This morning, 27-year-old Akayed Ullah attempted to detonate an improvised low-tech explosive device in the New York City subway. His IED malfunctioned, but there was still enough of an explosion to empty out the bustling Port Authority and capture the attention of our nation. NYC Mayor Bill de Blasio called the event “an attempted terrorist attack,” and law enforcement officials claim that he was inspired by the Islamic State.
This comes in the wake of President Trump last week retweeting three anti-Muslim hate videos initially posted by the notorious far-right nationalist group, Britain First. This week, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the travel ban — known popularly as the Muslim ban — would take effect immediately.
There has been plenty of ink spilled on why such actions are wrongheaded and unethical. Others have discussed how our government’s continued marginalization of Muslim Americans helps to normalize and institutionalize anti-Muslim sentiment. And even others have shown why discriminatory policies such as the profiling of Muslims does nothing to bolster our security as a nation.
However, there’s another way in which anti-Muslim bigotry threatens our safety that few people are discussing in this moment, and I want to make sure that it does not get swept under the rug entirely. In short, when our politicians and policies identify an “enemy” with whom we are at war, the people in this country who resemble those enemies become targets of hate. We saw this with Japanese internment in the 1940s, and we saw this with the violent backlash against Muslims after the terrorist attacks of 9/11.
And we’re seeing it again today. The dehumanizing rhetoric of our political leadership has consistently sent the message that Muslims are a threat to our safety — despite the fact that our statistics tell us otherwise — and this messaging has emboldened people to act on their anti-Muslim animus. The other week, the FBI released its report on hate violence in 2016, and it comes as little surprise to those who belong to marginalized groups that the total number of hate crimes — as well as those specifically motivated by anti-Muslim sentiment — is up substantially.
But anti-Muslim hate does not just affect Muslims. It’s not uncommon for perpetrators of hate to misidentify their targets as Muslim, even if they belong to a different identity group. The first hate crime casualty after 9/11 was Balbir Singh Sodhi, a Sikh man with a turban, beard, and brown skin. Singh was Sikh, not Muslim, but this did not matter to his attacker, who used Islamophobic slurs like “raghead, Arab, and Iranian.”
About a year ago, Khalid Jabara was murdered in a hate crime in Tulsa, Oklahoma, by a man who called him a “dirty Arab.” Khalid was Christian, not Muslim. But this did not matter to his attacker. And a few years ago, a Truman National Security Fellow, Prabhjot Singh, was brutally beaten by a mob of teenagers who shouted slurs like “Osama” and “terrorist.” Prabhjot is Sikh, not Muslim. But again, that did not matter to his attackers.
What these horrific incidents tell us is that we cannot understand Islamophobia without connecting it to other systemic issues like xenophobia and racism. And, in fact, these categories are helpful for understanding what’s happening with anti-Muslim violence.
Modern America has racialized Islam. It doesn’t matter whether one is Muslim or not. All that really matters is that one fits a particular stereotype of what a Muslim looks like. And, if you do, you are presumed to be criminal, threatening, and foreign.
So, in that sense, as a Sikh in America today, I am often perceived as a Muslim and treated — and mistreated — as such. This is my reality. I endure Islamophobic slurs on the street and online. I’m racially profiled every time I fly. And, though this is hard to quantify and explain, I see the way people look at me when I walk into a room.
A common argument from those who deny the reality of anti-Muslim hate goes like this: “Islam is not a race, so how could Islamophobia be racism?” This argument is a common mechanism for those who denigrate Islam in order to distance themselves from any other systemic issues that have become socially unacceptable (e.g. racism).
It is critical that we are equipped to respond to this comment in a way that substantiates the connection between anti-Muslim hate and racism for a few reasons. First, this connection enables us to position Islamophobia as something that, at least in theory, should be socially unacceptable. Second, it helps us point to the ways in which anti-Muslim hate is both embedded and institutionalized. And third, it helps us connect the dots among various forms of oppression and access concomitant intersectional experiences, including misogyny, anti-black racism, and homophobia.
Understanding what is happening to people on the ground and how hate is affecting their lives is critical to bringing forward solutions that are sustainable and just. It’s not enough for us to just say that we stand with our Muslim sisters and brothers in this difficult time. And until we begin to actually work for their humanity, we remain complicit in their dehumanization.
It’s crucial to understand how discriminatory policies and racist rhetoric at the highest levels of power affect people on the ground. And understanding what’s happening is an important first step we can take to help us better stand with our Muslim sisters and brothers in this incredibly difficult time.
Simran Jeet Singh is an assistant professor of religion at Trinity University and a Security Fellow for Truman National Security Project. Views expressed are his own.
