The Victims, Then and Now

Last Tuesday, I did not want to think about the political aftermath of the World Trade Center bombings. It was too early. That vivid image of those two colossi collapsing into a heap of flames was etched too firmly in my mind. I could not think of anything except the victims who might be underneath the rubble and their families. My girlfriend lives in New York. Many of my friends work in the World Trade Center and lower Manhattan. As I frantically dialed 212 phone numbers, the rest of the world was a distant afterthought.

A day later, it was still too early to think about anything else. Then I heard about my cousin. He is 13 years old. He immigrated to Toronto three years ago from Bangladesh. Last Wednesday, as he walked down his school’s hallway, three older students grabbed him by the collar, threw him against his locker and proceeded to punch him. “Oh look, a Muslim boy! You gonna bomb us too?”

Like every American, I continue to feel both tremendous sadness and anger every time I think about the tragic events of Sept. 11. But hearing about the attack on my cousin has forced me to think about this national crisis in a different light. I have had little time to mourn the victims of last Tuesday’s tragedy because now I have to worry about the backlash against my family and friends who have dark skin or foreign-sounding names.

We must begin to consider what our collective rage against terrorism is doing to the moral fabric of this country. Our president has vowed revenge against the perpetrators of last Tuesday’s vicious crimes. He has promised that “we’ll smoke them out of their holes.” But who is “them”? Is it Osama bin Laden and his network of fanatics? Is it the Taliban? Does it include every innocent civilian living in Afghanistan, Sudan or wherever Osama bin Laden is hiding? Does “them” include every Arab or Muslim living in the United States?

The rhetoric of some of our leaders has been encouraging. In his first address to New Yorkers after the bombing, Mayor Rudolph Giuliani urged Americans not to single out anyone because of religion, race or ethnic origin and pledged around-the-clock security for neighborhood mosques.

Unfortunately, this well-meaning rhetoric has done little to discourage the wave of bigotry that sweeps the nation. On Wednesday alone, the American Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee confirmed 30 reports of violent harassment. The list of hate crimes grew throughout the week, as reports of beatings and mosque desecration flooded the news wires.

In Pleasant Grove, a suburb of Dallas, Waqar Hassan Choudhry—a Pakistani-American—was shot dead at a convenience store on Saturday night. There was no evidence of a robbery, and local detectives told Choudhry’s family they believed his killing was motivated by “revenge.”

These vicious attacks have not been limited to Arabs or Muslims. A number of violent incidents against Sikhs have been reported in the New York area. Apparently, Sikhs—with their long beards and turbans—remind attackers of Osama bin Laden. On Saturday, a man shot and killed a Sikh service station attendant in Mesa, Arizona. The assailant then proceeded to drive to the next service station and fire on a Lebanese-American worker.

Of course, the vast majority of Americans do not condone hate crimes. All over the country, people of all religious beliefs and walks of life have come together to denounce the backlash. Nevertheless, as much as some people are preaching “tolerance” and denouncing crimes of hate, the vast majority of Americans still seem unaware that Muslim-Americans and Arab-Americans abhor terrorism as much as anybody.

Like other Americans, we also have friends and family living in New York and Washington, D.C. One friend of mine—who happened to be of Lebanese descent—worked in the World Trade Center. He is still missing. I often think of his parents. They are afraid to leave their home because of anti-Arab sentiment. I can scarcely imagine how they must feel—grieving the loss of a son, yet being blamed for his death because of their ethnicity. This is the cruelest of ironies.

You don’t have to be guilty of burning down a mosque or beating someone up to be guilty of perpetuating this bigotry. All it takes is a look of disgust as you pass someone on the street or an insensitive comment to make someone feel unwelcome. The number of Muslims, Arabs and Sikhs who have been victims of hate crimes is relatively low compared to those who have faced accusatory looks, stares and scowls. And although we would much rather deal with a dirty look than a bullet, it is painful feeling hated in the towns and cities we call home.

Far from encouraging tolerance, the American media has only stoked the fire. Television networks continue to show over and over again the footage of a small group of Palestinians celebrating in the aftermath of the bombings. It shocks and saddens me that there are people in this world who delight in the killing of civilians. But as one editorialist pointed out, “The minuscule percentage of Palestinians who exulted at the tragedy is probably far smaller than the percentage of Americans who would call for massive terror bombing in the Arab world.”

This has not prevented some ultra-nationalists from calling for a war against the entire Arab world. In her syndicated column, which appears in the New York Post and Associated Press Editorials, Ann Coulter wrote, “We know who the homicidal maniacs are. They are the ones cheering and dancing right now. We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to Christianity.”

As I read these xenophobic calls to violence and hear about the incidents of hate around the country, I can see our enemies smiling. I imagine that this is what they want—to see America divided—to hear our opinion-makers preach war and hatred. Let us not fall into their sinister trap. Let us not self-destruct. We already have a formidable task ahead of us; we must not let hate and ignorance hinder our progress.

Nader R. Hasan ’02 is a government concentrator in Lowell House.