I am a Muslim. But Trump’s views appall me because I am an American. By Fareed Zakaria. Washington Post, December 10, 2015. Also at Investor’s Business Daily, FareedZakaria.com.
Zakaria:
I think of myself first and foremost as an American. I’m proud of that identity because as an immigrant, it came to me through deep conviction and hard work, not the accident of birth. I also think of myself as a husband, father, guy from India, journalist, New Yorker and (on my good days) an intellectual. But in today’s political climate, I must embrace another identity. I am a Muslim.
Zakaria:
I think of myself first and foremost as an American. I’m proud of that identity because as an immigrant, it came to me through deep conviction and hard work, not the accident of birth. I also think of myself as a husband, father, guy from India, journalist, New Yorker and (on my good days) an intellectual. But in today’s political climate, I must embrace another identity. I am a Muslim.
I am
not a practicing Muslim. The last time I was in a mosque, except as a tourist,
was decades ago. My wife is Christian, and we have not raised our children as
Muslims. My views on faith are complicated — somewhere between deism and
agnosticism. I am completely secular in my outlook. But as I watch the way in
which Republican candidates are dividing Americans, I realize that it’s
important to acknowledge the religion into which I was born.
And
yet, that identity doesn’t fully represent me or my views. I am appalled by
Donald Trump’s bigotry and demagoguery not because I am a Muslim but because I
am an American.
In his diaries from the 1930s, Victor Klemperer describes how he, a secular, thoroughly
assimilated German Jew, despised Hitler. But he tried to convince people that
he did so as a German; that it was his German identity that made him see Nazism
as a travesty. In the end, alas, he was seen solely as a Jew.
This is
the real danger of Trump’s rhetoric: It forces people who want to assimilate,
who see themselves as having multiple identities, into a single box. The
effects of his rhetoric have already poisoned the atmosphere. Muslim Americans
are more fearful and will isolate themselves more. The broader community will
know them less and trust them less. A downward spiral of segregation will set
in.
The
tragedy is that, unlike in Europe, Muslims in the United States are by and
large well-assimilated. I remember talking to a Moroccan immigrant in Norway
last year who had a brother in New York. I asked him how their experiences
differed. He said, “Over here, I’ll always be a Muslim, or a Moroccan, but my
brother is already an American.”
In an essay in Foreign Affairs, British writer Kenan Malik points out that in France,
in the 1960s and ’70s, immigrants from North Africa were not seen as or called
Muslims. They were described as North Africans or Arabs. But that changed in
recent decades. He quotes a filmmaker who says, “What, in today’s France,
unites the pious Algerian retired worker, the atheist French-Mauritanian director
that I am, the Fulani Sufi bank employee from Mantes-la-Jolie, the social
worker from Burgundy who has converted to Islam, and the agnostic male nurse
who has never set foot in his grandparents’ home in Oujda?” His answer: “We
live within a society which thinks of us as Muslims.”
Once
you start labeling an entire people by characteristics such as race and
religion, and then see the whole group as suspect, tensions will build. In a
poignant article on Muslim American soldiers, The Post interviewed Marine
Gunnery Sgt. Emir Hadzic, a refugee from Bosnia, who explained how the brutal
civil war between religious communities began in the Balkans in the 1990s.
“That’s what’s scary with [the] things that [Donald Trump is] saying,” Hadzic
said. “I know how things work when you start whipping up mistrust between your
neighbors and friends . . . I’ve seen them turn on each other.”
I
remain an optimist. Trump has taken the country by surprise. People don’t quite
know how to respond to the vague, unworkable proposals (“We have to do
something!”), the phony statistics, the dark insinuations of conspiracies
(“There’s something we don’t know,” he says, about President Obama) and the naked
appeals to peoples’ prejudices.
But
this is not the 1930s. People from all sides of the spectrum are condemning
Trump — though there are several Trump-Lites among the Republican candidates.
The country will not stay terrified. Even after San Bernardino, the number of
Americans killed by Islamist terrorists on U.S. soil in the 14 years since 9/11is 45 — an average of about three people a year. The number killed in gun
homicides this year alone will be about 11,000.
In the
end, the United States will reject this fear-mongering and demagoguery, as it
has in the past. But we are going through an important test of political and
moral character. I hope decades from now, people will look back and ask, “What
did you do when Donald Trump proposed religious tests in America?”