Make humanity and conscience fashionable again
I recently published the following article in The Muslim News
Normally, politicians have an answer to everything. They sing their glib statements joyfully to the media, enjoying their power and status and the sound of their own voices. But in the last four weeks their opinions have been unnervingly silent in the face of the situation in the Middle East. Shouldn't they have been our voices of conscience? Isn't democracy designed for our representatives to represent our humanity?
The PM was on his hols. John Prescott was probably playing croquet. Parliament was closed for the summer. The silly season was not about beach holidays, but about a holiday of basic human values and response to a political and humanitarian crisis.
I kept a running count of the dead on the Israeli and Lebanese sides of the conflict. The numbers who were killed grew day by day, and the number of refugees soared into the hundreds of thousands. I had one single strong instinct, which cried from deep inside me, stop the killing. Stop the killing. I tore my hair out as each day all the politicians said was: there is no point to a ceasefire. But how could there be no point to a ceasefire? Surely people would be saved? Should we have told the people living in Qana that a ceasefire would have been a waste?
The politicians used very clever arguments. A ceasefire won't last, they told us. It is not a long term solution. We need to fix the underlying problem. All very noble sentiments from comfy seats in leafy Britain. But every innocent individual who would have lived if there had been a ceasefire was a reason for implementing it. I scratched my head in confusion. Was I wrong? Were my instincts not trustworthy in believing a ceasefire to be the first step, and then all other discussions could follow?
All of the faiths of Islam, Christianity and Judaism share a common belief, which says, "A person who saves one life is as though they have saved the whole of humanity." But these are words that express a basic human instinct, that life is valuable, that the lives of all human beings are valuable. So why did a basic morality that everyone supports - regardless of faith, ethnicity or political leaning - get whitewashed? As a society which way is our moral compass pointing and have we lost conviction in our ability to press for what is right?
As the days progressed, the crescendo of counter-intuitiveness grew. I wrote a piece on my blog asking "Who is the victim?" to question the growing view that it was not the poor Lebanese who were suffering. I also asked if the attacks were disproportionate. Is it the fault of the Israelis that they have bomb shelters? I was asked. Is it the fault of the Israelis if the Lebanese don't flee with their children when we throw bombs and have air raids and then their children die? The voices barked.
My head hurt with these responses. I felt like I was looking at the world through a mirror where everything was back to front. Surely the common sense solution was not for people to flee, but for the raids and bombs to stop. More worrying was the fact that the Government, the media and our leaders followed this logic.
I was starting to feel like an extra in the Emperor's New Clothes. Was I the only one who felt that our human instincts to the conflict were hidden beneath political rhetoric? I don't believe so. About 100,000 people of all colours, shapes and sizes turned up in central London on August 5, to demand a ceasefire, to try and reclaim humanity and conscience for our society. But again the voices were dismissed. The time was not right, apparently. Our leaders claimed to know better. They implied we were wrong.
The media ran reports that the images coming from Lebanon were doctored. It was all propaganda we were told. Things are not really that bad. I saw one report on television showing that the Lebanese had created a whole real live theatre of people who pretended that they were being hit by Israeli rockets. I furrowed my brow in confusion. If Israel had admitted that they were attacking Lebanon, then why would the Lebanese have to make up imagery? Were the words of the victim less valuable? If we were in a court of law wouldn't the evidence of both sides be heard and assessed on their merits, in line with natural human instinct and justice. So why were the words of the Lebanese civilians less merit-worthy of analysis and belief than those of the Israeli Government? Why were the words of the Israelis taken at face value?
BBC Radio 4 interviewed an aid agency and a commissioner from the UN agency that looks after refugees. They both stated clearly and on air that they had been denied access for humanitarian convoys into Lebanon by Israeli authorities. The Israeli Foreign Ministry spokesman, Mark Regev, was asked to respond. It's not true, he said. But you just heard what they said. It's not true, he repeated. There was no accountability, no challenge. He just lay down his truth unquestioned.
So the ceasefire did finally come. And that's where we are while I write this (I'm sure things will be quite different by the time you read it). In Britain, fear is overriding conscience and humanity and the embers of hysteria are once again being fanned. And fear is one of the factors that makes us forget our basic moral values. It takes courageous voices to challenge and placate fear. Archbishop of York, John Sentamu, held a vigil to highlight the plight of innocent people in the Middle East, to speak out against the 'idolatry' of terrorists and against the irresponsible words of George Bush for saying that he was at war with 'Islamic fascists'. Disappointingly, his acts have been met with derision. Why is this man's courage being mocked? Has the political climate made us forget humanity?
In the complexity of the media and political rhetoric, we have forgotten to use our instincts and logic in responding to a very human crisis. All people of faith and those with none have a basic humanity and conscience, which we are being trained out of. The instinct to goodness is being edged out of the public and political domain, and we need to reclaim it. The whisper of conscience and the courage to unveil our humanity are the only hope that we have.
Normally, politicians have an answer to everything. They sing their glib statements joyfully to the media, enjoying their power and status and the sound of their own voices. But in the last four weeks their opinions have been unnervingly silent in the face of the situation in the Middle East. Shouldn't they have been our voices of conscience? Isn't democracy designed for our representatives to represent our humanity?
The PM was on his hols. John Prescott was probably playing croquet. Parliament was closed for the summer. The silly season was not about beach holidays, but about a holiday of basic human values and response to a political and humanitarian crisis.
I kept a running count of the dead on the Israeli and Lebanese sides of the conflict. The numbers who were killed grew day by day, and the number of refugees soared into the hundreds of thousands. I had one single strong instinct, which cried from deep inside me, stop the killing. Stop the killing. I tore my hair out as each day all the politicians said was: there is no point to a ceasefire. But how could there be no point to a ceasefire? Surely people would be saved? Should we have told the people living in Qana that a ceasefire would have been a waste?
The politicians used very clever arguments. A ceasefire won't last, they told us. It is not a long term solution. We need to fix the underlying problem. All very noble sentiments from comfy seats in leafy Britain. But every innocent individual who would have lived if there had been a ceasefire was a reason for implementing it. I scratched my head in confusion. Was I wrong? Were my instincts not trustworthy in believing a ceasefire to be the first step, and then all other discussions could follow?
All of the faiths of Islam, Christianity and Judaism share a common belief, which says, "A person who saves one life is as though they have saved the whole of humanity." But these are words that express a basic human instinct, that life is valuable, that the lives of all human beings are valuable. So why did a basic morality that everyone supports - regardless of faith, ethnicity or political leaning - get whitewashed? As a society which way is our moral compass pointing and have we lost conviction in our ability to press for what is right?
As the days progressed, the crescendo of counter-intuitiveness grew. I wrote a piece on my blog asking "Who is the victim?" to question the growing view that it was not the poor Lebanese who were suffering. I also asked if the attacks were disproportionate. Is it the fault of the Israelis that they have bomb shelters? I was asked. Is it the fault of the Israelis if the Lebanese don't flee with their children when we throw bombs and have air raids and then their children die? The voices barked.
My head hurt with these responses. I felt like I was looking at the world through a mirror where everything was back to front. Surely the common sense solution was not for people to flee, but for the raids and bombs to stop. More worrying was the fact that the Government, the media and our leaders followed this logic.
I was starting to feel like an extra in the Emperor's New Clothes. Was I the only one who felt that our human instincts to the conflict were hidden beneath political rhetoric? I don't believe so. About 100,000 people of all colours, shapes and sizes turned up in central London on August 5, to demand a ceasefire, to try and reclaim humanity and conscience for our society. But again the voices were dismissed. The time was not right, apparently. Our leaders claimed to know better. They implied we were wrong.
The media ran reports that the images coming from Lebanon were doctored. It was all propaganda we were told. Things are not really that bad. I saw one report on television showing that the Lebanese had created a whole real live theatre of people who pretended that they were being hit by Israeli rockets. I furrowed my brow in confusion. If Israel had admitted that they were attacking Lebanon, then why would the Lebanese have to make up imagery? Were the words of the victim less valuable? If we were in a court of law wouldn't the evidence of both sides be heard and assessed on their merits, in line with natural human instinct and justice. So why were the words of the Lebanese civilians less merit-worthy of analysis and belief than those of the Israeli Government? Why were the words of the Israelis taken at face value?
BBC Radio 4 interviewed an aid agency and a commissioner from the UN agency that looks after refugees. They both stated clearly and on air that they had been denied access for humanitarian convoys into Lebanon by Israeli authorities. The Israeli Foreign Ministry spokesman, Mark Regev, was asked to respond. It's not true, he said. But you just heard what they said. It's not true, he repeated. There was no accountability, no challenge. He just lay down his truth unquestioned.
So the ceasefire did finally come. And that's where we are while I write this (I'm sure things will be quite different by the time you read it). In Britain, fear is overriding conscience and humanity and the embers of hysteria are once again being fanned. And fear is one of the factors that makes us forget our basic moral values. It takes courageous voices to challenge and placate fear. Archbishop of York, John Sentamu, held a vigil to highlight the plight of innocent people in the Middle East, to speak out against the 'idolatry' of terrorists and against the irresponsible words of George Bush for saying that he was at war with 'Islamic fascists'. Disappointingly, his acts have been met with derision. Why is this man's courage being mocked? Has the political climate made us forget humanity?
In the complexity of the media and political rhetoric, we have forgotten to use our instincts and logic in responding to a very human crisis. All people of faith and those with none have a basic humanity and conscience, which we are being trained out of. The instinct to goodness is being edged out of the public and political domain, and we need to reclaim it. The whisper of conscience and the courage to unveil our humanity are the only hope that we have.
Labels: Muslim News
posted by Shelina Zahra Janmohamed at 09:02
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