Spending 9/11 In A Muslim Nation

Two days ago was the 9th anniversary of September 11, and it arrived amid some controversial political events in the United States. The proposed construction of a mosque near the Ground Zero site has aroused scrutiny, and while the majority of New Yorkers believe the Muslim group has the right to build it there, an even greater majority thinks they shouldn't anyway. Some voice the opinion that it's insensitive for the group to build this place of worship, which is in commemoration for the Muslims that were killed in 9/11. Apparently some people believe Muslims shouldn't be allowed to grieve or pay respects to the victims of the tragedy, or if they are they shouldn't be able to remember it the same way as other Americans.

Then there was the Florida pastor's plan to commemorate September 11 by burning a copy of the Koran. Perhaps he had been a Guantanamo interrogator before becoming a pastor. Whatever his deranged thinking, the pastor's plan shows how fragmented we still are about 9/11. In 2001 we had a moment of unity (so powerful that when Barbara Lee broke it as the only voice in Congress against granting the president emergency wartime powers, her life was threatened by angry constituents), unity from which the power of love and brotherhood could have emerged, and the United States had the potential to demonstrate the great and positive values we are so capable of. I'm sure there are millions of Americans who did, and yet the hate still remains. The legacies of 9/11 were two wars, domestic suspicions towards Muslims as monolithically theocratic and violent, and a disregard of the international political community that weakened the US's world image tremendously (Turkish friends are quick to ask, "Why did you vote for Bush, and why did you vote for him again?"). And the fear and hatred of Muslims obviously still remains. Our nation is still hobbled by 9/11 and all the negative emotions associated with it.

Take Obama's initial response to the pastor's plan, for example. His first reaction was to be fearful for the lives of Americans fighting overseas, worried that the burning of a Koran would trigger protests and violence in Muslim communities all over the world, raising anti-Americanism and risking the lives of the troops. The meat of the reaction was not to say that burning a holy document would offend Muslims all over the world and be completely insensitive to people with other beliefs. It painted the image that Muslims are fanatical, easily provoked people without spending much effort trying to understand the pure hatred of such an act (as an afterthought Obama mentioned it was against American values). In a later speech Obama focused more on the religious tolerance aspect of the pastor's plan and referred to his own faith to say that as a devout Christian he can understand why such violent behavior would upset someone. But it was already clear from the first speech that there is much less interest in sharing this world with the Muslim community and much more fear of angering them into violence - and still there are people who think we don't share the world with Muslims, that they're not even real people to begin with.

Maybe we've come somewhere since 9/11, but not very far, and definitely not far enough.

Here in Istanbul 9/11 passed largely unnoticed. It came on the day of a religious holiday, Bayram, and that even seemed to take precedence. In addition there was a vote on September 12, and the voters chose by a wide margin to amend the constitution in accordance to the conservative/religious party's aims and against the military-style law making of Turkey's past. (Most Americans don't understand that in Turkey the military is much more left-wing and secular, very different than the military in Middle Eastern countries or Latin American countries. The United States loves the current party because it mistakenly believes that the party is both secular and anti-militaristic, but it's not secular in the slightest, and it also has little interest in Westernizing. I'm quick to ask my Turkish friends, "Why did you vote for Erdoğan?") It was a big enough weekend without 9/11, and I nearly forgot the significance of the day.

But near the end I was hit by the realization that I was here, in a country almost completely Muslim, working for a school run by Muslims and teaching English to Muslim children, buying groceries from Muslims, living in an apartment owned by Muslims, taking my cat to a Muslim vet, riding the bus to work with Muslims who are also going to work. I felt like I was supposed to feel something, that living here during 9/11 was supposed to open up an insight within me about its nature. I felt that, as one of the only Americans in town, I was supposed to own this event, know about it, feel something about it I wouldn't be able to feel in America.

Here's what I came up with: I've lived here for over a month now, and I've never felt out of place from knowing that these people are Muslims, because without 9/11 they aren't Muslims. They're just people.