I’m a senior at Duke University. I’m also an American, Arab in ethnicity and Muslim in faith. And I have firsthand experience of the prejudices many other Americans harbor toward those like me. Last June, when I was working as a congressional intern in the office of Rep. David Bonior, I was singled out at a White House meeting and escorted out of the building without any explanation-evidently condemned by my name and physical features.
Memories of that incident were with me on Sept. 11 as more horrible news kept trickling in. Moving around campus to grieve alongside fellow classmates, my initial response was one of extreme concern for the well-being of the victims and their families. However, the more reactions I heard from the people around me, the more alarmed I became for the welfare of many of my friends and family, nowhere near the catastrophe, but nonetheless of the “wrong” religious and ethnic persuasion, and thus the targets of misdirected anger. The more we heard news commentators comparing the tragic scene to Pearl Harbor, the more the thought ran through my mind. Because when I think of Pearl Harbor, I am struck by a sense of grief not only for the innocent soldiers who lost their lives, but also for the Americans subsequently interned in camps simply because of their Japanese heritage.
Arab-Americans run the risk of becoming dual victims at this difficult crossroads, suffering not just the immense losses of our country, but also facing an inevitable backlash. How could it be that I, or anyone in my position, could possibly be associated with the most atrocious act witnessed in my lifetime? I hesitate to picture the demons responsible for this horrible crime, but if it is in fact those who profess to be followers of Islam, I cannot conceive of them joining me in my prayers or reading from my Koran. In essence, they are about as Muslim as Timothy McVeigh was Christian.
Aside from the countless cases of senseless reactions against Arabs and Muslims throughout the country, a greater long-term fear exists, as well. The classic debate regarding the sacrifice of civil liberties in the name of national security has reached new heights in recent years, and will continue to gain public attention. My uncle, Mazen Al-Najjar, was a victim of a recent antiterrorism law that permits “secret evidence” to be used in courtrooms to deny individuals their due-process rights, keeping them locked away indefinitely without charges. He was jailed for nearly four years, away from friends and family, until former attorney general Janet Reno finally released him last December. Incidentally, this grossly unconstitutional practice is used mostly against Arabs and Muslims.
While the threat of terrorism is very real indeed, innocent people are often the subject of misguided efforts to prevent such dangers. We must ultimately resist the temptation to change the nature of our society and erode the very principles for which people have fought and died; for if that happens, the enemy has truly won, and there will be nothing left for us to defend. It was in that spirit that I took my summer internship in the office of Representative Bonior-the sponsor of a current bill to ban the use of secret evidence-and found myself in that ironic position at the White House.
My case got a personal presidential apology, an apology from the Secret Service, who said they were acting on an erroneous tip, and national media exposure. Now it has come full circle. Lower Manhattan is in ruins, and Arab-Americans fear for their safety. Our deepest fears have come true. On Wednesday morning, the day after the tragedy, I attended a prayer vigil along with thousands of others in the Duke community. An eerie serenity surrounded our gathering, in which we were all suddenly united by our common humanity. As leaders of three faiths spoke harmoniously of the pain that had brought us together, they also spoke of the love that would keep us together and the peace that would be forever within our grasp. At this time that tries our nation’s soul, I can only hope they are right.
