So Much
Older Then: One Year On
By David Kootnikoff
"Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now"
"My Back Pages" by Bob Dylan
This past summer my wife, Yuko, and I traveled to the North African country of Tunisia. When I mentioned this to one of my Chinese colleagues he expressed surprise. It seemed so remote, unknown...Arab. Last year, before the attacks of 9/11, I would have shared his feelings. One year on, however, my world has been significantly altered. The attacks became an awakening, a spur for further inquiry.
Living outside of North America makes it hard to determine how the U.S. has been affected. Whether it is actually has become a better place because Americans now regard firefighters as heroes and not wealthy CEOs, I can't say. But while on my travels this summer one thing became very clear: George W. Bush and his administration have failed to address the animosity directed at the U.S. from Arab states. In fact, they have exacerbated the problem through aggressive diplomacy and indifferent resolve with regards to Israel. The fundamental flaw, in my view, has been the failure of the administration to seek out a dialogue with Islam. Instead, it has branded both Iraq and Iran as evil and is currently threatening a war that will destabilize the center of the Muslim world. Rather than inquire and ask hard questions, the administration has pursued a policy of anger and aggression, traps that will only perpetuate more lethal terrorism.
As I watched events explode across my television screen on that humid
Tuesday evening last year, everything I believed in about intercultural
co-operation and dialogue was snuffed out. But my animosity eventually
gave way to a stronger desire to understand the root causes of the
madness. At my own personal ground zero, I began searching for what
the late Zen master Shunryu Suzuki referred to as "beginner's mind",
one that is flexible and open to all possibilities.
I also did what many others did; I embraced those closest to me. My wife and
I reflected on our marriage as a Japanese and a Canadian, and were able to
salvage our faith in the belief that individuals are more powerful than events
or institutions in bridging cultural divides. We live this reality everyday,
albeit some days less successfully than others, but we don't give up or seek
resolutions for war!
So last spring we began planning a trip to Tunisia. It seemed like
a practical destination, more open and stable than other Arab states.
Then something unexpected occurred. A bomb blast at the Ghriba Synagogue
on the island of Jerba killed thirteen, eleven of whom were German
tourists. This shocking news was made even more so by the alleged involvement
of al-Qaeda. After some serious hesitation we continued on with our
plans, convinced that this attack was an aberration for normally moderate
Tunisia.
We have no regrets. Wherever we went we were warmly welcomed and greeted
with generous hospitality. Our most remarkable experience occurred
while visiting the same Ghriba Synagogue with a new friend Hamza, an
economics student and a Muslim from the southern town of Medenine.
It had been repaired and there was a visual security presence on the
site with police checking ID and passports. We had met Hamza before
in the main town of Houmt Souk and he offered to guide us around to
a few local sites. He spoke fluent French and English, as well as Arabic.
What seemed ironic to us, a Muslim introducing us to this Jewish synagogue
in an Arab country, was nothing but a sincere expression of pride for
him. He considered the Jewish population to be as Tunisian as the other
Berber and Turkish minorities and was proud of his country's ethnic
diversity. Hamza had proven my initial expectations to be naive, parochial
and ultimately prejudicial. Somehow I had harboured the belief that
Muslims are different. I knew all Christians didn't hate Muslims; why
did I expect all Muslims to hate Jews? Of course, they don't. Hamza
and Tunisia had provided me with a valuable epiphany. They made me
see that my knowledge of the Arab world is minute and that my ignorance
had prevented understanding.
Growing up in Canada, not surprisingly, I learned the canon of Western
Civilization, including much about Judaism and Israel. Throughout high
school the curriculum firmly encouraged me to sympathize with Jews
through the lessons of the holocaust. The establishment of Israel and
its justification has always implicitly and naturally flowed from this
horrific event. The Arab victims of the Christian Inquisition in the
15th century who perished or were forced to flee Europe to North Africa
were never mentioned. The experiences of the modern Palestinians were
never given a voice.
As a result, I have had to go far out of my way to learn anything about
Arab history or the Islamic faith. In my native country this ignorance
is pervasive, promoting a biased media and an unintentionally prejudicial
populace. After 9/11 school curriculums and textbooks must be adjusted
to include Arab and Islamic history because this unconscious ignorance
is the greatest enemy in any fight against terrorism.
As I have inquired and learned more, the scales have begun to fall
from my eyes. The Arab world, like the Western world, is anything but
a unified monolith. There are deeply held suspicions and prejudices
between countries and religious sects. Saddam Hussein fears Muslim
extremists as much as George W. Bush. The Indonesian Muslim cleric,
Abu Bakar Ba'asyir is as representative of Muslims as the American
evangelist, Jerry Falwell is of Christians. Ba'asyir openly supports
Usama bin-Laden; Falwell recently stated that the prophet Mohammed
was a terrorist. Both are extremists who ultimately poison their own
faiths. These similarities need to be pointed out repeatedly as a reminder
that no culture has a monopoly on ignorance or truth.
Through these experiences I have come to realize that seemingly pedestrian
acts like choosing a vacation spot or a book to read are in fact profound
expressions of political import. The fact that Tunisia is not only
an Arab country but also a Muslim one became a significant reason for
visiting. Fourteen months ago it would not have mattered, and indeed,
may have been a deterrent.
In the wake of the tragedy in Bali, it is more imperative than ever
not to ignore or avoid questions or journeys that may seem uncomfortable
or unsavoury. Anger and despair are self-perpetuating traps that must
eventually give way for a deeper understanding to emerge. Small acts
can be intensely meaningful and a dialogue can take on many forms.
As I stood together with Hamza and my wife inside the beautiful blue
sanctuary of the Ghriba Synagogue wearing our borrowed yarmulkes (skull-caps),
I caught a glimpse of the possibilities that emerge when people step
into different cultural habitats. "The innocence of first inquiry",
to quote Shunryu Suzuki once again, is the hallmark of the "beginner's
mind". Our first inquiry had led us to Tunisia. One year on, I feel
so much younger.
More photos
and info of Tunisia (Japanese)
More photos and info of Tunisia (ENglish)