Terrorism... Again: Old threats, alternative solutions

By Edit Schlaffer

Terrorism just got a new haunting image, a Muslim man with bloody hands stands in the streets of London holding a meat cleaver that he used to butcher a Royal infantry soldier only moments earlier. This fateful incident connects two young men from very different walks of life. The attacker Michael Adebolajo, apologized to the women nearby for the gruesome sight, declaring that women in their lands "have to see the same" and explaining that "The only reason we have done this is because Muslims are dying by British soldiers every day."

At this point we should take a step back to reflect on whether we are in danger of stumbling into the stereotyping trap. Some will be quick to judge, that the two perpetrators actually represent the people in the far lands that one of them was referring to.
In the course of my recent work in the most volatile regions affected by terrorism, I had the enlightening experience of listening to the voices of fathers and mothers of suicide bombers who had lost everything that was dear to them; their children and their dignity. Yet instead of calling for revenge, they express an entirely different sentiment: "You may not use our country as an excuse to spread terror, death, fear, and bloodshed." This message undermines and discredits the typical narratives spread by recruiters, who refer particularly to Palestine as a source of grievance and justification for engaging in violent extremism.

The Palestinian mothers whom I met want to get this message out to the Western youth: "This is our fight, not yours." We have to respect this idea, for they are front-runners and are taking high risks within their society. Indeed, Nabila, a mother from Ramallah, told me that when she heard the news of her son's martyrdom, she fell to her knees and praised God. Soon after she reassessed he initial reaction: "What am I doing? I am thanking God, but instead I should be asking for his forgiveness." So she stood up and demanded for the women around her to stop their celebratory cheering. Even while this shocked her husband, she bravely faced the assembled group and challenged the local male culture of bravery. Reflecting on the aftermath she says, "We are still where we are, but just without him. He was my eldest, my strength and my protection." Now she wakes up every night, begging him in her thoughts: "Please come home, just one more time, my darling."

When I learned about the drama that unfolded on that London street, another mother came to mind: Ingrid Loyau-Kennett, a scout leader and former teacher. She engaged one perpetrator in a very personal way, asking him what he wants, managing to calm him down. Maybe this was a rare moment, when someone asked him to spell out his fragmented thoughts. This is a remarkable approach that starkly contrasts the "hard power" methods that are more commonly used. Such new "soft power" applications could act as the basis of an effective alternative in counter terrorism strategy.

The consequences of this assault immediately affected the delicate community cohesion, so that Muslim citizens again feel under attack and threatened. Shelina Zahra Janmohamed, a London-based blogger, voiced her sense of personal unease when leaving her home after the Woolwich attacks: "I felt scared, fearful of how I was perceived and what people would be thinking. I'm worried for my safety, for the security of my family."
Western anti-Muslim sentiment needs to be balanced by Muslims voicing their determination to confront the Islamist threat and expose the abuses of Islam by a small minority of extremists.

These voices are indeed widespread, even within Pakistan, a country closely associated with terrorism. I was very impressed by a group of women from the SWAT Valley -- a hotbed of extremism -- all of whom have a son or husband who was forcibly recruited by the Taliban or arrested by the army for Taliban involvement. Yet what do we actually know about these people and their stories? In some cases the villagers had witnessed symbolic public executions in front of their houses to scare those who wanted to resist joining the militant forces. The village women, recognizing how "Jihad" brought violence and misery to their families, are keen to voice their opposition, even in light of the well-known potential, brutal consequences. Madeeha, one of my interview partners, insists: 'If the recruiters come back and the men in our village cannot stop hem, then we women will join forces against them.'

Aisha Al-Wafi is the mother of Zacarius Moussaoui, who was the only person ever to be tried in a US court for being involved in the 9/11 attacks. In a conversation with me, Al-Wafi passionately exclaimed, "Strangers come and give orders to my son not to respect me? What's that about?... The extremists -- I hate them, because they don't love Islam, because The Prophet says, 'your mother, your mother, your mother'... And the extremists say, 'don't listen to your mother?' That's Islam? No, that's not Islam." She is calling out for tolerance and respect for others: "We (Muslims) need to respect, so that we'll be respected."

Talking about community cohesion makes me contemplate the countless missed bridge-building opportunities that could have materialized on a global level. A workshop with a group of women, family members of victims of the 9/11 attacks, showed me that more than ten years following the attacks there was still a need to come to terms with the aftermath of the attacks. The most remarkable feature of this meeting was the complete absence of hatred or desire for revenge towards Muslims at home or abroad. These women do not fuel any toxic anti-Islam rhetoric. Rather they highlight the commonalities between themselves and families living in regions of the world within which terrorism constitutes a daily and very real threat. These women of the Tuesday's Children group set an admirable example, and sent out a joint declaration that they refuse to hate.

What we see here is fascinating: new female approaches that challenge the mainstream scenario, namely Jihadists' claim that they are acting with the support of Muslim communities. Ultimately, we all have to find a way to live together, and we need therefore to be actively engaged in making the ambitious project of peaceful co-existence work. We have to realize that there are alternatives and powerful new players: women, co-shaping the security arena.

Touring Terror in Jerusalem

By Eetta Prince-Gibson

Originally published by the International Herald Tribune 

JERUSALEM — The group of 30, mostly Jerusalemites, watch one another self-consciously as they wait in the summer heat for their guide to take them on a tour of terrorist attacks along Jaffa Road, the main drag in West Jerusalem. 

Terror isn’t something Jerusalemites talk about any more. We prefer to think that we’ve recovered from the fear and dread that took over our lives from 2000 to 2005, when terror attacks throughout Israel began to subside. The period that Israelis — in a combination of desperation and fatalism referred to as “the situation” — began on Sept. 28, 2000, when the then-opposition leader Ariel Sharon visited the Al Aqsa mosque on the holy site in Old Jerusalem known to Jews as the Temple Mount and to Muslims as the Haram al-Sharif, setting off the wave of violence that came to be known as the Second Intifada.

From that September day through the beginning of Operation “Cast Lead,” when the Israel Defense Forces invaded Gaza on Dec. 27, 2008, 6,651 people were killed — 5,524 Palestinians, 1,063 Israelis and 64 foreign citizens, according to figures compiled by B’Tselem, the Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories. More than 10,000 people were wounded. 

Between 2000 and 2005, there were 1,048 suicide attacks against Israel, of which 903 were thwarted by Israeli security forces, according to data compiled by the Jewish Virtual Library. During those years Jerusalemites feared for their lives every day, yet pretended that life could be normal in the abnormal “situation.”

Now that the violence has ebbed, we pretend we’re over it. Our verbal geography still refers to places according to the bombings — as in, “Meet me on the corner by where the No. 14 bus blew up” — but we insist we’re fine. Sure, there might be some scars, we tell ourselves, but the wounds have healed. 

Jaffa Road, by Miriam Alster, European Pressphoto Agency

Yet when Yossi Attia, a 33-year-old performance artist, offered a series of guided tours, billed from “From Trauma to Fantasy” along Jaffa Road, the tours were quickly oversubscribed. 

Attia offered the tours as part of a citywide festival, “Under the Mountain,” sponsored by the municipality and private philanthropic foundations and billed as an attempt “to bring politics and art into the sphere.” He is determined, he says, to peel back the layers of those scars, revealing just how raw the pain underneath still is. 

The group meets at “the entrance to the shuk,” the big outdoor market along the western part of Jaffa Road. Jerusalemites understand the code — during the Second Intifada, no one went to the shuk unless they had to because we all avoided crowded places. Today, the shuk is hip, with high-end bars and restaurants next to the vegetable stalls. 

Joining the group a few minutes late, sporting a clip-on microphone and an Israeli tour guide’s trademark khaki shorts, Attia makes sure that everyone has water and tells people not to turn off their cellphones. “You might feel anxiety again and you might want to talk to someone,” he says. 

For over two hours, he leads the group along Jaffa Road — now closed to traffic in deference to the new light-rail system, and into the narrow alleyways and courtyards on either side. Jaffa Road, he says, has had more suicide bombings than any other street in the world. 

Attia, who was in his teens during the Second Intifada, grew up on this street. He says he experienced his first terror attack “twice at the same time — I watched it from my balcony and on TV simultaneously.” 

He analyzes each of the dozen of suicide attacks along the road, mapping out the growing dread. At first, we were afraid of public spaces, but not of buses or coffee shops — until buses and coffee shops became targets. In the beginning, we were only afraid of men — until women joined the suicide ranks. 

The tour is quirky, amusing and a bit absurd. At one site, Attia holds up photographs of an exploded bus, its roof peeled back like a sardine can, the body bags still lined up. Standing alongside another site, he holds a dry-erase board and draws a chart — the variables include how many people were killed (less than five/between five and a dozen/more than a dozen); where the attack took place (bus/coffee shop/market place). Summing up the variables, he asks if it would be acceptable under each circumstance to go out for a beer or on a first date. “We always went out for beers,” he says. “It was a way of pretending that things were normal. Beer was political then.” 

As the walk proceeds, we bring in our own memories. We retell the macabre jokes. We recall how, by mid-2002, TV stations would split their screens, with regular programming on the upper half and live reporting of a bombing below. 

We remember the theoretical discussions: Which seats on the bus were the safest? Which supermarket was most likely to be bombed? A cell phone rings, and, as if on cue, we all remember the routine after an explosion when we would all call one another: “Where are you? Have you heard from the kids/mom/dad/your brother?” And we all acknowledge how close to the surface, just under the scar tissue, the pain really is. 

Toward the end, Attia talks about causality, saying that terror is a form of warfare. It may be despicable and immoral, but it’s logical and strategic. 

I think about the tour’s title, “From Terror to Fantasy.” The terror has fueled vengeful fantasies. The “situation” ate away, like a parasite, at my values and bored into my identity like the shrapnel bored into the bodies of the victims. 

I don’t know if I can forgive. I don’t even know if I want to. But I do know that by acknowledging the terror we still feel, we can begin to fantasize about peace.

Eetta Prince-Gibson is a freelance journalist in Jerusalem and former editor-in-chief of The Jerusalem Report.

 

Violence is not the Answer to the Childish Attempt Against the Holy Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)

By Arshi Saleem Hashmi, SAVE’s Chapter Leader in Pakistan

Arshi Saleem Hashmi

The childish attempt by a film maker to humiliate the sanctity of an Abrahamic religion should be condemned. Like many attempts in the past where some people in their own capacity tried to ridicule Islam and particularly the last prophet Muhammad (PBUH) was reflection of their own narrow thinking. This film does not amount to what majority of the people belonging to different faiths in the west think; this particular film is a brain child of an ignorant who tried to capitalize the anti-Muslim feelings.  It is important to understand that just like the obscurantists who do not respect other religions are not the representative of the Muslim all over the world, these people, who have been trying to ridicule the foundation of Muslim faith, are not the representative of the tolerant tradition of the western societies. One of the basic tenets of our religion Islam is to respect all the religions especially Abrahamic religions. It is not widely known in the west that a Muslim is supposed to respect and believe in all the prophets and the books that were sent from the God.  Majority of the Muslim believe in tolerance and understanding. Having said that, any insult to the prophet Muhammad would not be accepted by any Muslim, the extremists might have reacted violently which is wrong, but it did hurt even those who do not considered themselves as strictly practicing Muslims. It is more about faith being targeted then about extremist narrative of present day Islamists. 

Protesters in Tahrir Square carry a poster of Osama Bin Laden, (c) Reuters

In Pakistan, religio-political parties protested against the film, Jamat-e-Islami, Jamaatu Dawa and other groups protested in different cities in Pakistan. The government of Pakistan denounced this and issued a statement against the film. The local provincial assemblies also discussed and issued statements condemning the film. Compared to Libya and other Arab countries, protests here were nonviolent mostly though they did try to reach to US Embassy in Islamabad but due to tight security they were controlled.  The instant reaction in the Arab world was due to the obvious reasons that when it comes to Islamist jihadists, action against them is justified but when attempts to humiliate the most sacred personality of Islam; it is categorized as freedom of expression. 

In Pakistan, the film has generated interesting debates and TV channels are showing many programs where the discourse is whether the hate speech in Muslim countries target or ridicule the sacred personalities of other faiths or they focus more on the policies and politics of the western countries who happened to be belonging to Christian faith.  So the dichotomy here is Muslim antagonism is due to the policies of the West particularly the US while the views that have expressed in film is focused on the most sacred Personality in Islam. A positive sign in Pakistan mainstream media is to initiate debate on this issue and majority of the people though emotionally hurt, are listening to these discussions. Any violent expression would still be a minority act just like the making of the film is a minority expression in the US.  The gist of the debate is that western freedom of expression is not universal and should not be considered as a universal definition. The point is also being raised that despite all the hate speech and violent expressions against western policies, no attempts has ever been done to make a film on ridiculing Jesus Christ (PBUH) or Moses (PBUH, the West should also consider the way freedom of expression is defined in Muslim traditions.

Majority of Pakistanis believe in respect for all the Prophets in Abrahamic religions and they do not support violence but just like anti-Islam  minority views in the US and the West, minority views in the Muslim world will continue to react violently as they would interpret it as an attempt approved by the US in order to provoke extremism. The life of our holy Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) is the great example where in his lifetime he ignored harshest critics who tried to humiliate him, ridiculed his message and tried to hurt him physically. We should learn from our beloved prophet, we can raise voice against this act, we can protest with the US officially. Violence is not what Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) taught us. 

Youth from Around the World Unite Against Violent Extremism: Reflections on Project Common Bond

Arshi Saleem Hashmi
SAVE Chapter Leader in Pakistan

By Arshi Saleem Hashmi with input from Nafeesa Rahman & Husna Ihsan


Project Common Bond is an initiative by Tuesday’s Children, a partner organization of SAVE/Sister against Violent Extremism that provides support for individuals affected by the tragic events of 9/11. Launched in 2008, Project Common Bond brings together teenagers from around the world who share a 'common bond'--the loss of a family member due to an act of violence or terrorism.

 

Every year, teens gather for an eight-day healing and peace-building symposium where they engage in dialogue and community-building activities that acknowledge and respect their differences while promoting friendship and understanding.

Arshi Saleem Hashmi, SAVE’s Chapter Leader in Pakistan, attended this year’s event with two outstanding young women from Swat, a region that was taken hostage by Taliban fighters for many years. Nafeesa Rahman and Husna Ihsan lost their uncle to a terrorist attack and were relocated to IDP camps after their families’ were forced to leave their homes. When they returned to their village, everything was destroyed, but the girls were determined to go back to school and take on an active role in the rebuilding of their community.

Photo by Project Common Bond

It was an outstanding initiative on part of Tuesday’s Children to invite 75 young girls and boys from 15 countries to share a common bond of humanity with each other. From Pakistan, Nafeesa Rahman and Husna Ihsan took part in Project Common Bond (PCB) 2012 that was held in Boston from July 12-20. The eight-day conference was a great opportunity to meet young people from around the world and learn to better understand different cultures.

The participants were victims of war, conflict, violence and terrorism; and PCB was an opportunity not only to share their pain and grief with one another, but also moments of joy and healing. They all shared the common goal of working towards building a peaceful and secure world through participation in various activities and training sessions on conflict resolution and peace.

Young participants learned to work together in a number of ways: they conducted needs assessments, proposed ideas for projects, thought of creative ways to fundraise and designed their very own program. Some of the main themes discussed were social awareness, responsiveness, flexibility, empathy, caring, communication, humor and having a sense of purpose for the future, including having healthy expectations, goals, and orientation towards success. The participants also stressed on the crucial importance of young people’s involvement in the development of programs that shape policies affecting their future.

Sharing the common goal of rejecting violence and violent extremism encourages young people to stand united against forces that induce chaos, distrust and hostility to safeguard their vested interest. Most of the violence that occurs around us is due to misunderstanding and lack of trust, but this can change if we take the time to get to know other cultures, and hold on to the common goal of building a more peaceful world for future generations.

Click here for more information on Tuesday’s Children and Project Common Bond.

A Call for Unity Against Terrorism

"A teacher comforts a school child as they observe a minute of silence at a Jewish school in Paris to pay tribute to the four victims killed by a gunman at a Jewish school in Toulouse, March 20, 2012." Photo Credit: Reuters.

          By killing seven French citizens, the suspect in the tragic Toulouse murders, Mohamed Merah, has sought—in his own words—to “bring France to its knees.” Merah reportedly joined the Islamist group Forsane Alizza (Knights of Pride), whose primary goal is to “protect the honor of Muslim women.” Now that the suspect has been killed, the central point will not be whether Al Qaeda or any other terrorist group claim responsibility for the attack—this is now about our responsibility as global civil society. We, non-Muslims and Muslims across ethnic, religious, and ideological divides, must stand up and speak out against terrorism. We cannot afford to be silent bystanders—a self-styled jihadist cannot be allowed to question our values that create a common bond of humanity. As Elie Wiesel, the Nobel Laureate and Holocaust survivor, once said, there are only two categories of people: good and evil. Now is the moment not only to choose where we belong, but also to take action and to defend our values and beliefs. Earlier on Wednesday, President Sarkozy called on his fellow citizens "to unite together to show that terrorism will not be able to fracture our national community." We must extend this call to action beyond national boundaries to all of humanity.

         The question “who was Mohamed Merah,” whom experts describe as a lone wolf and an Al Qaeda jihadi, the nice young next-door-neighbor who turned into an ideologically-driven killing machine, will occupy police and terrorism analysts for many years to come. We at Women without Borders/SAVE believe we have to broaden the analytical spectrum of community and family-based approaches to prevention.