Identity
And Islam
By Tanveer Ahmed
Znet
February 10, 2004
The
French ban on wearing headscarves at schools is part of the wider challenge
of the multicultural state - how to integrate migrants yet foster diversity
and difference.
It is a problem
being played out through the Western world, including Australia. At
its essence, its about how identities will be shaped in an ever
changing global landscape.
Identity will increasingly
be the issue of the 21st century. With mass migration, mixed marriages
and the melting pot being stirred at breakneck speed, a longing for
the tribalism of nation, and race versus newer, more fluid forms of
identity will be the key conflict of the modern psyche.
So it is with the
multicultural state and the issue of our times: terrorism.
A number of the
perpetrators of the World Trade Centre bombings were raised and educated
in the West. A French study looked at the life of one of them, Moussaoui.
He came to France as a young child and had a relatively normal upbringing
in the outer suburbs of Paris where there are large numbers of Muslim
immigrants. He was an average student in school and showed no signs
of pathological behaviour.
His first moves
towards extremist Islam coincided after being discriminated in the workplace
and in leisure situations. There was one clear incident where a bouncer
denied him entry into a Parisian nightclub, telling him openly it was
because he was an Arab. Moussaouis brother told the French sociologists
that his interest in Islam began soon afterwards. The rest is now history.
The study went on
to hypothesise that extremist Islam was only an option when being French
no longer seemed a possibility.
The man who kidnapped
the Wall Street Journal journalist, Daniel Pearl, was born in Britain,
studied at a posh English public school and the London School Of Economics
- not known for its madrasah qualities. His parents were
Pakistani emigrants. Ahmed Omar Sheikh said he wasnt British,
nor Pakistani, just a Muslim. He said he could never be accepted by
the racist British.
It is something
I see in my younger psychiatric patients of Asian or Arab background
in Sydney.
It is difficult
for them to feel deep ties to the country of their parents. They see
the pictures on the walls, may speak some of the language but ultimately
have never lived there. And when they have visited, for the majority,
it is the first time they have felt Australian.
But living in Australia,
the recurring motifs of Australian life - sun, beer, sport - do not
connect with the migrant experience. Nor do the myths and legends of
outback Australia have resonance. Their non-white appearance is often
commented upon at work or school. These are not usually racist or discriminatory
remarks, but highlight a sense of the foreign nevertheless.
Perhaps notions
of mateship and egalitarianism do resonate, but they are not enough
to drive home a feeling of being Australian.
What often fills
the void is religion. This is where their search for identity finds
a voice. And it is not necessarily Islam. Christianity or Buddhism can
have just such a transformative effect.
But for groups that
may suffer from feelings of exclusion or discrimination, Islam provides
the deepest connection. Islam has become the religion of choice for
the dispossessed, the poor or the oppressed. From African Americans
to Afghan refugees, Islam cushions a feeling of disconnection. A religion
now defined by its ability to turn feelings of frustration and defeat
to outright defiance, it can win the hearts of those longing to belong.
I visited a weekly
gathering of Muslims in Sydney, and included an Arab patient of mine.
It was led by a charismatic Egyptian cleric. The patient was of Lebanese
background and had been depressed. His malaise was deeply rooted in
a feeling of disconnection.
But he seemed to
be improving since attending these meetings.
The group was dominated
by those under the age of thirty. Everyone I met had a university degree
and spoke in an Australian accent. Despite having plenty of great things
to say about Australia as a country and a sense of gratitude at the
opportunities they were given, many of the youths felt they could never
be accepted as an Australian, that they would remain on the fringes
culturally. They felt their ties could not extend beyond the economic.
However, I saw no
evidence of a turn towards extremism. This would require a stimulus
from the outside world. For Moussaoui, it came when he was rejected
from somewhere as apolitical as a nightclub. For others, it may be a
missed promotion, a jibe at a party or an unjust encounter with the
police.
It is a global theme
that will be one of the key challenges of managing the multicultural
state. How to let diversity flourish, maintain tight security in containing
terrorism, yet foster a sense of national identity that carries divergent
groups.
In Britain, Pakistanis
and Bangladeshis are three times more likely to be unemployed. In France,
half of the inmates in prison are of Middle Eastern origin. At least
the British can claim some public figures from its minority groups,
such as South Asian newsreaders and members of Parliament. France cannot
even claim that, despite the largest Muslim population in Europe. Even
the French parties built on anti-racism, such as the French Socialist
Party, do not have a single black leader.
Unlike Britain or
France, Australia is yet to have a definitive ethnic underclass. Indeed
it has considerable social mobility, indicated by the growing affluence
of many minority groups. However, it can learn from the separate approaches
of the British and French, with the aim of providing a more successful
model of integration.
But as tension in
areas of Sydney continue to grow, with many conflicts filled with obvious
racial overtones, the challenge mounts.
[email protected]
Tanveer Ahmed is
a doctor and journalist based in Sydney, Australia.