I also spent some of the Morocco trip alone at the little hotel in the mountains, thinking about the hatred we’re fighting. I was born with the Arab-Israeli conflict already under way, at a moment when Iran was establishing itself as an Islamic republic, awakening a new competition in the Middle East. In the Middle East, many of those who had sought peace were dead, and the ones still alive were so deeply wounded that they would probably never forgive the other side. They say children inherit the hatred of their parents. My grandfather was bitter, but my grandmother was resilient. I inherited hope from my Moroccan grandparents, along with the will to understand.
Why do they hate us so much? The question that had pushed me all these years to cross borders rang in my ears. Since 9/11, I had scoured the world for answers, hoping that knowledge and understanding would lead people to do what they could to prevent more hatred, more killing.
But some people in Western countries don’t see the hazards of setting standards for others, as if our way is the right way and the only way. This is the same argument ISIS makes. Meanwhile, in our democracies, secret detention centers, torture, and mass government surveillance have violated what we call our core values. Our governments have faced no consequences for these transgressions. People such as Khaled el-Masri are too weak to hold the United States accountable for ruining their lives.
Is democracy really what we want, or do we instead seek to promote the values we hold dear: the equality of men and women, the rights of minorities to survive and thrive, the freedom to speak our minds and practice whatever faith we choose? Instead of talking about the need for a voting system, we should seek to adhere to a code of universal values.
At the same time, a dialogue is overdue within Islam, and within Muslim societies, about what can and cannot be justified by our faith. Religion doesn’t radicalize people; people radicalize religion. In Mecca, where I recently made the umra pilgrimage, women are not supposed to cover their faces, and there is no separation of the sexes. How can we argue that a woman should cover her face and be separated from men when it doesn’t even happen in the holiest place in Islam? Opportunists have created their own ideology within Islam, and this is profoundly dangerous. If no one is willing to speak up for what the religion actually requires, anyone can use it for his own ends.
Way back in 1979, the year after I was born, the ruling family in Saudi Arabia allowed religious leaders to blackmail them because the monarchs needed those clerics’ support before sending in armed soldiers to end the siege of Mecca and guarantee loyalty to the crown. The clash between secular power and faith radicalized many Muslims in Saudi Arabia and beyond. My generation had to grapple with the consequences of leaders in the West, Arab countries, and Asia who believed they could fight their enemies—the Soviets in the Cold War—by encouraging “jihad” against them. It was a failed strategy.
If Middle Eastern leaders got their act together and stopped fueling a senseless sectarian conflict—always in the name of a religion whose true character is apparently impossible to agree upon—the next generation in that region would have a chance to grow up learning about history, medicine, and mathematics instead of running from bullets and bombs, fleeing their homes, and living in refugee camps or on the street.
Iran and Saudi Arabia, in particular, must stop their quiet war, and along with it the radicalization of their youth in the name of hollow ideologies. Western politicians sold the Iran nuclear deal as a big achievement, saying it would support the reformists within the country. But Iran is a state with many different players. My colleague Jason Rezaian at the Washington Post became a victim of what some call “the deep state.” While Iranian officials claim they want to coexist peacefully with their neighbors, increasing Iranian interference in Arab countries is no longer a secret. Iranian-sponsored Shia militias in Iraq and Syria are only one example.
I’ve often asked preachers or imams who abuse religion for their political ambitions why they do it. Many have told me they believe it’s what Islam requires. Others said they know what’s best for the ummah. Most people argue this is how the Prophet Muhammad would have wanted it to be. But they’re talking about one of my forefathers. Why should they be the ones to decide what Muhammad wanted or how he saw the world?
While I’ve carried the pain of the discrimination I faced as the daughter of Muslim guest workers in Germany, I’m still very grateful for the chance I had to get a good education, and thankful for the wonderful people who pushed me and convinced me not to give up. Yet when I visit countries in the Middle East, I feel the pain of laborers from Southeast Asia or the Philippines. No matter if their employers are Sunni, Shia, or of some other religious background, these workers are often treated badly and barely have any rights. The fact is that many Arab states harbor some version of entrenched racism.
The rise of groups such as Al Qaeda and ISIS is not the problem of any one specific country or group. It is the result of many mistakes. There are the political leaders who too often look for short-term solutions. There is the “enemy of my enemy is my friend” thinking that has led to arming more militias in Syria and Iraq. But the history of Western involvement in Afghanistan and Pakistan should have taught us all that the one you train and arm today may turn against you tomorrow. Empowering militias can lead to the destruction of nation-states as we know them today. I grew up among different religions and in different worlds, and in the spirit that civilized people don’t clash, even if they have different opinions or orientations. The world is full of those who offer easy answers in challenging times. They know how to play with the fear and hopelessness of the disenfranchised. In a paradoxical way, all those who preach hatred against the possibility of peaceful coexistence are benefiting from each other.
The world is not facing a clash of civilizations or cultures, but a clash between those who want to build bridges and those who would rather see the world in polarities, who are working hard to spread hatred and divide us. While the work of the bridge builders is certainly difficult, there are people in every generation who live their beliefs and who are willing and able to seek out common ground. I was lucky enough to have the examples of my parents and grandparents to show me what is possible.
Who sets the rules for everyone else? This isn’t just a problem for the Muslim world; it is also a problem for the West. You cannot expect tolerance if you’re not willing to give it to others. The minute somebody says I’m right, you’re wrong, is the minute we give up the space for conversation. This has happened too often. It is still happening.
Over the years, my work had made me a target of various forms of hatred, from Germany, the land of my birth, to Iraq and Pakistan, among Muslims and Christians alike. These days, people expect a reporter to take sides. But that’s not my job. It is difficult to stand in the middle, but I believe losing the ability to listen is far more destructive.
If I’ve learned anything, it’s this: a mother’s screams over the body of her murdered child sound the same, no matter if she is black, brown, or white; Muslim, Jewish, or Christian; Shia or Sunni.
We will all be buried in the same ground.