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Who are you… not to be unique?

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Mar 26, 2008

Tonight at New York University, I’m delivering a speech called “Faith Without Fear: Moral Courage in an Age of Conformity.” I’ll be discussing how ordinary people can develop the permission to defy orthodoxy in their own communities.

You got a sneak preview of the speech in my previous post. I pointed out that jealous, lazy or frustrated types often silence mavericks with the subtle sneer, “Who the hell are you?” Instead of challenging their personal insecurities (which would require honesty, God forbid), they’ll take the lazy route of making you feel insufficient.

Socrates and Einstein didn’t buy that age-old ploy. Why should you?

The point resonated. A sample of your comments:

* “I’m an Asian-American who never, ever wanted to do what all the ‘clever’ brown girls are supposed to, which is become physicians, attorneys and of course wives. Ever since childhood I’ve been asking myself, ‘Who the hell am I to think differently?’ You answered by reminding us all about self-educated, supposedly un-credentialed renegades like Socrates, Spinoza, Einstein, Rosa and Obama.

I’m now inspired to challenge some of my community’s prejudices, especially about women. But I know I’ll get backlash. It’s inevitable, right? Can you throw me a few more scraps to fortify my backbone?” - Priya

* “As a woman in a world where there’s so much negativity thrown at you, how do you find strength to not internalize it? Any pearls of wisdom you can offer other women living in similar worlds? I and my female colleagues are waiting with bated breathe for your response.” - Daniela, MA, CHRP

You betcha, babes.

First, here’s an excerpt from Martin Luther King Jr.’s final sermon, entitled “The Drum Major Instinct”:

“If you want to be important — wonderful. If you want to be recognized — wonderful. If you want to be great — wonderful. But recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant.

That’s a new definition of greatness. And this morning, the thing that I like about it: by giving that definition of greatness, it means everybody can be great, because everybody can serve.

You don’t have have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don’t have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don’t have to know Einstein’s theory of relativity to serve. You don’t have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve.

You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant.”

Now, how do you cultivate the confidence to be “great” when you’re not perfect — that is, when you know that your subject and verb won’t always agree?

I say, understand your fear in order to transcend it. Marianne Williamson nails this point in a counter-intuitive way:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

My advice: Put these sentiments into your own words so that you’re expressing a personal manifesto of moral courage. When they’re authentic, words won’t fail you. They’re already in you.

Go get ‘em — the words. And the world.

Learn more about the Moral Courage Project, which I’m directing at New York University.

The “who the hell are you?” hand grenade

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on Mar 23, 2008

Packing the hall to discuss Islam and democracy at Syracuse U. (Photo: David Medeiros)

Maybe it was the full house. Or the hot lights. Or my multi-media approach. Then again, it could have been my deliberate use of humor to make difficult conversations less threatening and more engaging for people of varied backgrounds.

Whatever the reason, I recently got scolded at Syracuse University. There, during a sold-out screening of my film, the chair of religion accused me of putting on a “rock star” performance.

Frankly, I took that as a compliment. After all, the topic was “Islam and Democracy: Do They Have a Prayer?” How could I be elitist in communicating the potential to reconcile Islam and democracy? As a faithful Muslim and an observant democrat, wouldn’t I have integrity showing that scholarship should be accessible to ordinary people?

Not to my critic, who complained about never having been invited to appear on CNN. Bingo! In alleging that I’m a “rock star,” she meant to dismiss my credibility. The esteemed professor succeeded in revealing her own snobbery.

Over years of advocating for Muslim reform, I’ve noticed that frustrated academics silence reform-minded Muslims by hurling the “who-the-hell-are-you?” hand grenade. Funny thing is, history abounds with individuals who had no legitimacy in established circles but who pressed forward.

Socrates is a screaming example. His refusal to shrink and slink away ultimately produced a student known as Plato. Not bad for a self-educated lover of questions.

Then there’s Baruch Spinoza, among the greatest modern voices of religious toleration. If we can applaud him for being banished from Holland’s Jewish community by the rabbis, we can be equally impressed that he worked as a grinder of glass.

Closer to our own time, consider Albert Einstein. For years, he toiled as a patent clerk but didn’t let that stop him from publishing some of his scientific masterpieces. Self-appointed arbiters of authority dismissed Einstein at first.

Maybe my favorite example of maverick legitimacy is Rosa Parks, who stayed in her seat on a bus when a white man told her to move back. She didn’t defy him out of naivete; she’d calculated her decision for maximum moral impact. You could call her a tactician extraordinaire.

And who was Rosa, anyway? A seamstress. A tailor’s assistant. By today’s career standards, a veritable nobody. Yet a simple and strategic act of conscience, animated by a love of justice, made her the mother of America’s civil rights movement.

At Rosa’s funeral, another “unqualified” upstart spoke. His name is Barack Obama.

Which brings me back to the struggle of reform-minded Muslims today. I’m by no means the only one who faces the who-the-hell-are-you hand grenade. So does Zia Sardar, a British Muslim, journalist and public intellectual who blogs about the Qur’an from his liberal point of view.

Not long ago, Sardar responded to a fellow Muslim who accused him of lacking the proper tools and thus interpreting the Qur’an for “mere five minutes of fame.” Sardar’s response should be read fully; here’s a taste:

“In the end, the issue of authority comes down to power and territory. For too long, a group of narrow-minded, ill-educated elite have usurped the power to comment on the Qur’an and defended this territory with the rhetoric of fire and brimstone. It is time ordinary Muslims took this power back to where it belongs: with all Muslims, whatever their background, whatever their state of knowledge…

Rather than being told what to think, concerned Muslims everywhere need to get back to the religious duty of actively participating in interpretation — which can only come from lively debate.”

Supposedly inclusive professors can be no less dogmatic than puritan imams in defining the limits of legitimate conversation, let alone debate. As the chair of religion at Syracuse U announced, I’ve undone “decades” of scholarship in a 45-minute appearance!

While thrilled to wield such power, I’d rather use it to ask a question: Who needs conservative mullahs when you’ve got the progressive priests of academe?

But there I go again believing I’m allowed to question. She might wonder what gives me the right to speak. I wonder what gives me the responsibility not to.

View the entire video of my rock star performance.

Agent of moral courage: Barack Obama

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on Mar 19, 2008

In planning for this blog entry, I had a different Agent of Moral Courage picked out. Wrote my post, polished the points, checked the links and timed the draft to go live shortly.

Then Barack Obama opened his big mouth. And moral courage poured out.

Responding to the media frenzy over his former pastor’s racially charged rage about the United States, Senator Obama did better than “denounce and reject” (the standard demand made of any candidate whose supporters offend others).

Instead, he spoke truth to power within his community — first his Black community and then his wider American community — for the sake of a greater good. My favorite excerpt from yesterday’s speech:

“For the African-American community, that path [to a more perfect union] means embracing the burdens of our past without becoming victims of our past. It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect of American life.

But it also means binding our particular grievances — for better health care, and better schools, and better jobs — to the larger aspirations of all Americans: the white woman struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man who’s been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed his family.

And it means taking full responsibility for own lives by demanding more from our fathers, and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or cynicism; they must always believe that they can write their own destiny.

Ironically, this quintessentially American — and yes, conservative — notion of self-help found frequent expression in Reverend Wright’s sermons. But what my former pastor too often failed to understand is that embarking on a program of self-help also requires a belief that society can change.

The profound mistake of Reverend Wright’s sermons is not that he spoke about racism in our society. It’s that he spoke as if our society was static; as if no progress has been made; as if this country — a country that has made it possible for one of his own members to run for the highest office in the land and build a coalition of white and black; Latino and Asian, rich and poor, young and old — is still irrevocably bound to a tragic past.

What we know, what we have seen, is that America can change. That is the true genius of this nation.”

‘Nuff said.

Why did I pre-empt a lesser-known Agent of Moral Courage for someone who’s being blogged about everywhere? Because to catch on, moral courage needs high-profile practitioners. Their example permits more of us to defy dogma.

If a faithful Christian can dare to challenge his religious mentor, risk alienating the congregation to which he belongs, push “his people” to accept responsibility for their ills, empathize with the anger of all sides, and throw in a respectful nod to the ideological Other - in this case, conservatives - all the while chasing votes from proud liberals, then we’re left with one question:

Now that a politician is exercising moral courage, what excuse do the rest of have not to?

Join the debate about this post at my MySpace page.

Moral Courage Project: the launch

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Announcements on Mar 14, 2008

Wish you were there! Here are photographic highlights, excerpts from my opening statement, some of the blog coverage and memorable words that one guest jotted on his blackberry…

Excerpts from my opening statement:

Robert F. Kennedy observed, “Few are willing to brave the disapproval of their fellows, the censure of their colleagues, the wrath of their society.

Moral courage is a rarer commodity than bravery in battle or great intelligence. Yet is the one essential, vital quality for those who seek to change a world that yields most painfully to change.”

So, as Bobby Kennedy understood, moral courage is the willingness to risk backlash from your own community as you pursue a greater, common, good.

Here at NYU’s School of Public Service, we believe that developing moral courage is as urgent as it’s ever been — and possibly more so.

Why do I say “more so”? Because we live in a time of identity politics, when it’s relatively easy for angry individuals to point fingers at the outside world and blame others for their own community’s ills.

Far more dangerous, emotionally and sometimes physically, to call out injustice within your group and thereby upset your seemingly natural allies.

The Moral Courage Project addresses one of the great leadership challenges of our time: to transcend the us-versus-them polarity of identity politics. We need to bust out of that polarity because the world’s problems are too complex for dichotomies that diminish us.

We know that avoiding introspection produces dishonest results — a dishonesty that infects human relations, skews public policies and censors talent from which communities would otherwise grow.

It’s because we see this dishonesty everywhere that the Moral Courage Project intends to teach, mentor and engage heretics everywhere. Future events will feature dissident Christians, politically incorrect feminists, whistle-blowing Jews, queer gays (meaning gays and lesbians who challenge the cozy consensus of their movements), self-critical African-Americans, maverick Hispanics and even renegade Republicans!

But I can’t imagine a more worthy champion of moral courage with whom to introduce this project than Professor Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im.

He’s an exile from Sudan, a reform-minded Muslim and the intellectual force behind an upcoming conference called “A Celebration of Heresy: Critical Thinking for Islamic Reform.” Now that’s chutzpah.

We hope you’ll apply tonight’s lessons to your own lives.

Some guests made notes of the lessons — in real time — via their blackberries. A sample of what one young man took away from the event:

> Every orthodoxy started as heresy.

> Heresy is rejuvenation, a source of innovation.

> A man can fail many times, but he is not a failure until he starts blaming others for the failures.

> Religion is a personal experience.

> A state must be secular for a society to be religious.

> When a state enforces Shari’a, they are enforcing law. That is different from a personal commitment.

> “We need a secular state to be better Muslims.”

> Conflict is creative, violence is destructive.

> I seek to challenge, I expect to be resisted (hopefully not overwhelmingly). If I’m not resisted I’m not relevant.

> Ppl will defer to true piety but that is a social act, not a political act.

> There may have been a role for clerics when most could not read, but now that role has passed… like the unions.

> Those who attack violently are declaring their impotence at participating in the discussion, at responding to the ideas on the table.

> “Islamo-fascist” is itself a fascist use of the term. If someone is fascist and also Muslim then they are fascist, period.

> A heretic counters a point of view from within tradition; an infidel does not speak from the voice of tradition.

> I can cease being Muslim, but I can’t cease being human.

Finally, the blogosphere weighs in from different corners of the globe (and various corners of the room!):

* Ali Eteraz

* Political Mavens

* The Sudanese Thinker

* Some Swedish dude

Intrigued enough to learn more about the Moral Courage Project? Maybe even get involved? Here you go.

Moral Courage Project goes public Tuesday night — and you’re invited

Posted in Announcements on Mar 10, 2008

As some of you know, I’ve recently moved from Toronto to Manhattan in order to build the Moral Courage Project.

Housed at New York University’s Graduate School of Public Service, the MCP aims to develop leaders who will challenge conformity and censorship in their own communities for the sake of a greater good.

It’s inspired by my love of ijtihad, Islam’s tradition of debate, dissent and creativity. The hope is to ennoble misunderstood mavericks everywhere. In that spirit, on Tuesday night I’ll host the first of several “Conversations with Champions of Moral Courage.”

The inaugural champion: Prof. Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im, a Sudanese scholar of Shari’a law and among the boldest thinkers in the Muslim world. We’re launching the English edition of his book, Islam and the Secular State, in which he argues that “we need a secular state to be better Muslims.”

Savor what else Prof. An-Na’im writes in it:

* “I do believe that it is possible, indeed necessary, to reinterpret Islamic sources in order to affirm and protect freedom of religion and belief. This is my position as a Muslim, speaking from an Islamic perspective, and not simply because freedom of religion and belief is a universal human rights norm…”

* “It is necessary for me, as a Muslim, to confront this issue in order to uphold the moral integrity of my religious beliefs.”

* “The possibility of belief in anything logically requires choice in the matter, as one cannot believe in anything without the freedom and ability to disbelieve it.”

* “Instead of censorship… it is critical to maintain possibilities of innovation and dissent as the only way for religion to remain responsive to the needs of believers.”

You get the picture. Now get down to NYU and participate in the event. For more details, and to RSVP, click here. Security will be present, so please come a few minutes earlier than normal.

And for all you non-New Yorkers, the Moral Courage Project will film the event for future streaming on this site. I’ll announce when that will be.  Meanwhile, you can read about the Moral Courage Project.  You can also stay up to date by subscribing to my free e-newsletter.

Go on. Find your voice and passion.  Help your community grow from talent that would otherwise be lost to self-censorship. Let your freak flag fly.

Final chapter: your advice to GI Jane

Posted in Q & A on Mar 07, 2008

In Parts One and Two of the GI Jane series, you recognized the spirituality of this struggling American soldier in Iraq. She loves her country and its uniform, but also loves the foreign nation she’s come to occupy.

Can she help Iraqis while retaining her integrity?

Most of you have offered a resounding “Yes,” advising our soldier to work with children because they’re less judgmental than adults and more in need of tender kindness.

Now for your final pearls of advice — in equal measures practical and merciful:

* “I am Catholic. In the Catholic areas of Northern Ireland, many were surprised to learn that I could practise my faith while serving as a British soldier who also held the Queen’s Commission. I spent most days seeing to it that old people were cared for.

Like those I served, many Iraqis will judge you by your body language. If your heart and soul are set towards helping, then that will shine through. Little things matter: gentleness in voice and listening. Mainly listening. Be a planter of seeds and try not to pull them up while encouraging them to grow!” - Jim

* “I have lived and worked as a security officer in Kuwait, Qatar, Tunisia, Ivory Coast, Ghana and Algeria. I found for myself that this is what it means to treat people with respect:

1. When you drink bottled water, there should be enough to share with everybody in sight.

2. If there is a problem with local workers getting paid, you deal with it on their behalf. People will learn to trust you.

3. Listen. We as Americans must learn to be patient and listen more.

These tips do not build hospitals or schools, but we must build trust first.” - Marshall, US Navy USN retired (GMC)

* “The Army officer should transform her weakness into a strength. Language is a barrier, yes? Why doesn’t she start an Arabic-English language exchange? One day per week she could run conversational English classes for local youths. In turn, they contribute to a conversational Arabic class where she and her colleagues would be the students.

With increased ability to communicate, they could start to discuss ’simple’ topics such as local customs or impressions of foreign countries (not Iraq and not the US). Over time, she might be able to discuss the issues that are closer to her heart…” - CJ

Now for the last bit of advice. This comes from a Muslim who suggests that the way GI Jane can help Iraqis is by helping her fellow soldiers:

“Compassion for any life form seems to be one of the things the military tries to wring out of a human. The fact that this military woman has maintained and perhaps even developed a greater sense of compassion is refreshing. If she can spark more compassion in even one of the other military personnel, she will have graced this world in a way that we should all strive to do.

As mere humans, we tend to think we must save the world to truly effect change. All we have to do to accomplish this is reach out and relieve one suffering human in the slightest way. This woman is in a place that needs every last drop of compassion.” - Mariam

Shukran, one and all, for your wisdom.

More of your advice to the American soldier

Posted in Q & A on Mar 03, 2008

“GI Jane” is an American female soldier who struggles with Iraqi Arabic, her US military uniform and the assumption of many Arab men that, as a Western woman surrounded by male army officers, she’s a whore. Despite all of these challenges, she asked me for advice about how to help the people of Baghdad.

I turned GI Jane’s question over to you. What a response! Click here for Part One of your answers.

In this second installment, we begin with the advice of an Iraqi man who lives in America:

“My suggestion is that you try to help children as much as you can because the adults are mad as hell, as you stated. They will be, because their own country has been demolished around them. Put yourself in their shoes if you lost your fiancee or your child or your parents during the invasion.

Some of my family left everything behind because of that war. They live in Syria and no one, not one country, would give them a visa or help them to live life as it should be.

Now you know why they are mad. It’s got nothing to do with you being a non-Muslim Caucasian female.” - Ghesoon

But Connie, a former US soldier who lives in Egypt, disagrees with Ghesoon:

“Western and Eastern cultures ARE very different — and will likely always be so. But that doesn’t mean we have nothing in common.

I would suggest that this good-hearted soldier continue to love the people enough to talk to them. If they start treating her like a whore, be polite but firm… ‘I am NOT what you think I am. Would you talk to your mother this way? Your sister? What if you were my brother — would you want other men to treat me like this?’

In Egypt, I dress conservatively (not covered from head to toe, but not like a wild tourist either). Yet I will still sometimes hear men mutter the Arabic word for ‘whore’ as I pass by. I faced the same thing in Pakistan where everyone thought I must be an extra from Baywatch simply because I am American. I showed them that I was a good person, a good wife to my husband and a good mother to my children. People eventually accepted me, and even stood up for me when others were rude.

In short, I will not live up to the lowered expectations of those who are ignorant. The perception that many people have of Americans usually comes form TV and propaganda. It can be very sleazy and unreal, yet if that is all people see, then that is all they have.

Think about TV evangelists and freaky fundamentalists who try to convert you to their religion. They, too, are sleazy and unreal. It is a very distorted slice of a bigger whole. But when you see individuals from that same denomination performing acts of charity, really walking the talk, then you cannot help but feel warm towards them even if you are 100% not interested in joining their church.

Soldier, you are doing the right thing. Get out there, be yourself, and show the world what the reality is… and SMILE when you do it!” - Connie

Having heard from an Arab man living in America and an American woman living in Egypt, let’s now turn to a young Muslim with a Buddhist bent who lives in neither of these places. From his advice, we’ll see a patch of common ground emerge…

“Building bridges is hard in the best of times, let alone with a beleaguered, hostile, distrustful, war-wearied population. You’ve got a lot going against you. You’re a woman among many misogynists, in an American army uniform, striving to have a basic conversation in the local language.

It’s with these reality checks in mind that I write my three points.

First, while being a woman is a disadvantage in some respects, it’s an advantage in others. Many girls grow up with a mentality of fear that’s propagated by the community around them. You can bet that’s the case in a post-dictatorship Muslim country still mired in the throes of brutal violence.

Connecting in some way with a strong, determined, kind woman might make a huge difference to an Iraqi girl. No matter how modest the interaction might seem to you, it may be the opening of another reality for her, especially at a time when fear seems like the only truth.

Second, while your uniform is a disadvantage, it’s also an advantage. You have fellow soldiers who’ve got your back and might be able to bring some modicum of order to the chaos while you try to find your way to making a difference. Most Iraqis don’t have the privilege of that security, as you yourself point out.

Third, while you stumble over the language, and it is a definite barrier, kids don’t care about that. When adults are calling you a white whore, remember how the children see you. Kids, especially in times of trauma, can’t fake anything. Reach out to them.

On a closing note, I want you to know that I’m inspired by your determination.” - Shahid

What I’m inspired by is the level of dialogue — challenging, critical, self-critical, sometimes contentious, yet always constructive.

Coming up: the final installment of your advice to GI Jane.

Your advice to GI Jane - part one

Posted in Q & A on Feb 29, 2008

Last week, I posted a moving letter from a U.S. soldier in Iraq.  She has “fallen in love” with Baghdad and, in particular, its children.  She understands why Iraqis are “mad as Hell” at Americans yet wishes they’d direct more of their anger at the “right people” — locals who demolish Iraqi villages in the guise of resisting occupation.

Her question is this: “As a non-Muslim Caucasian female, in an American Army uniform, with just enough knowledge of Iraqi dialect to hold a simple conversation, what can I do to help? I want to just talk to Iraqis outright, but I’m not very good at speaking the language and I don’t think they’d listen to a white girl whom many of them assume is a whore…” 

A number of you have replied and in the coming days, I’ll post excerpts from your answers.  It only seems right to start with the response of an Arab woman living in the Middle East:

“Sister,

You letter touched my heart.  I live in Palestine, where I’m on an encounter on daily bases with ‘the other’ or ‘the enemy,’ Israeli male and female soldiers.  As soon as I read your words, I knew that I have something to share with you.

I was and still [am] one of the people who hated Saddam.  I was thankful that Iraqi people won’t have to live in fear under his dictatorship anymore. But I’m sorry to tell you that the majority of people there will continue to see you as the enemy.  This is an inherited pattern toward the West.  U.S. policies in Iraq, which screwed things up, reinforced that attitude ten folds.

I’m not trying to put all the blame on the West.  I realize this is a very destructive way of thinking, as there are many players in Iraq who are willing to burn it into ashes. On top of that list comes Iran and Al-Qaeda.  These forces are huge, so first and foremost I advise you to keep your expectations real.

Your intentions to see a phoenix rising from the ruins will definitely affect Iraqis’ attitude in one way or another, but not about being seen as a whore.  I know it’s awful.  I have a British friend who has been working with NGOs for two years here in Palestine.  The other day she was telling me how often she gets abused and harassed by taxi  drivers because she’s Western. They assume she’s a whore as well. 

My friend perceives this as being unable to understand ‘the other.’  But I associate it with stereotypes that people in Arab culture have about Western women.  And furthermore, how we Arabs look at our own women too.

For now, I advise not to yell at people in the checkpoints. :)  Don’t humiliate Iraqis in any way.  Be kind to children, women and men.  No matter how simple it may seem, little things can really help.  Arabs are fed up with words.  We prefer good deeds that speak for themselves.

Be safe and be blessed. Keep those beautiful dreams inside you.” - Falastine

More of your responses coming soon.

I love your guts

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Announcements on Feb 26, 2008

“Ask and ye shall receive,” they say.  Earlier this month, I asked you to get more involved in our mission of Muslim reform and moral courage. How? By signing the petition against death threats.

Your signatures are coming from all over the world: Algeria, Nigeria, Indonesia, India, Argentina, Pakistan, New Zealand, Poland, Finland, Italy… Here’s the up-to-date list of signatories and places from which they originate.

Thank you, my dear readers, for having guts. Courage is contagious, and your boldness will surely inspire others once they know about it.

In that spirit, I’m now asking you to circulate the link to our petition against death threats.  Tell your friends, families and mailing lists why you signed.  Feel free to share with them my February 14 and February 18 blog entries.  Help them understand what the stakes are and why they should add their names to the roster of those who defend universal human rights, freedom of conscience and pluralism of peaceful ideas.

You’ve proven that Muslim reformists are not alone. It’s time to prove that all of us have even more allies, Muslim and not.

Do your thing.

Interesting question - got an answer?

Posted in Q & A on Feb 22, 2008

Every once in a while, I receive a compelling question from a reader. Check out the letter below. Try putting aside reactionary prejudices about America, pro or con, and appreciate the sincerity, hope and eminently human dilemma being expressed here. If you have an answer for her, email it to me and I’ll forward it to her…

Irshad:

I’m a soldier in the United States Army. When I joined the Army 5 years ago, I signed on to be a linguist working for Military Intelligence. They didn’t tell me what language until I got to the school. It turned out to be Arabic. I knew next to nothing about Islamic culture or the Arabic language, but over the first few years of my enlistment I became reasonably proficient at the language and somewhat knowledgeable about the culture.

Then I was deployed to Iraq, which is where the problem developed. You see, I think I’ve fallen in love with Iraq. Parts of it, anyway. Baghdad is gorgeous… The children melted my heart, and somehow I knew from the moment I saw the place that there are lots of good people there. Unfortunately, all these good people are dying by the dozens on a daily basis. Sometimes they die by the hundreds.

I do what I can to help find and capture the people responsible for it, but the most of the Iraqi people seem to see us as the enemy. Maybe it’s because we went into the country without knowing what we were doing, and we screwed things up so bad they don’t trust us anymore. Or maybe it’s that they’re more willing to blame their problems on the West than they are to look at the locals who are wreaking havoc on their villages, blowing up funeral processions, mosques, and the like.Whatever the cause, the end result is that millions of Iraqis are mad as Hell.

The only way the Iraqi people will ever rebuild their economy and live normal lives again (if they ever had in the first place - Saddam wasn’t exactly benevolent) is if they get pissed off at the right people and take action against those people.

This has become my fight. I’m not sure exactly why, but I know that my conscience isn’t going to be truly clean until I see a phoenix rise from the ashes in Baghdad. My fiancée was stationed in Tal Afar when he was deployed, and he tells me that the people started performing citizens’ arrests, to the point where the American troops sometimes had to calm them down. According to him, crime ceased almost
completely in the area.

I’m going to deploy to Baghdad again within the next month or two. The question I have is this: As a non-Muslim Caucasian female, in an American Army uniform, with just enough knowledge of Iraqi dialect to hold a simple conversation, what can I do to help? I want to just talk to Iraqis outright, but I’m not very good at speaking the language and I don’t think they’d listen to a white girl whom many of them assume is a whore (because why would an Army allow women within its ranks if not for the pleasure of the men? I know that sounds awful, but I’ve encountered this attitude more than once)…

Okay, people, what would you do after walking a mile in her boots? Again, please refrain from simplistic and sarcastic retorts like, “Stay the hell home.” The woman’s got a job and she’s not a Nazi who’s sending Iraqis to gas chambers. If understanding The Other is among the vexing challenges of our era, then she’s already there. Now let’s give her some decent advice, shall we? Email me your thoughts.

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