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In 2006, a human rights advocate, who is a friend, was prevented from boarding his flight from New York to California because of Arabic.
Yes, Arabic. The language spoken by more than 400 million people worldwide, making it one of the top five languages in the world and reportedly the fastest growing in the U.S., was the culprit.
My friend was wearing a T-shirt with the words "We will not be silent" in both Arabic and English. He was told he could not fly until the offending Arabic script was covered. And lest we think our issues with Arabic have resolved themselves in the last decade, remember that simply speaking Arabic on an airplane was grounds for removal from a flight just last year.
How we got to this point is a complicated matter, but the path forward doesn't have to be.
Since the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, Arab-Americans and American Muslims have come to be viewed by some of our fellow citizens and our own government as either victims of hate or potential perpetrators of violence. The latter view dictates we should be seen through a securitized lens and has produced profiling and surveillance of our communities, watch lists, and special registry programs, to name but a few programs targeting us.
However, both oversimplifications fail to capture the experience of being Arab or Muslim in post-9/11 America, and last year's presidential campaign demonstrated that with extraordinary clarity. We have heard condemnation of the surge in hate crimes but little discussion on how the rhetoric during the election contributed to that hate, particularly by leading policy makers and candidates. Instead of challenging bigoted misinformation, some candidates furthered it.
At a New Hampshire town hall, a voter declared to then-candidate Trump, "We have a problem in this country. It's called Muslims." He concluded by asking, "When can we get rid of them?" Mr. Trump's answer: "We are going to be looking at a lot of different things."
One could reasonably suggest President Trump's Muslim bans, in both incarnations, were the logical continuation of that conversation in New Hampshire. The Muslim ban is a candidate delivering on a campaign promise unlike any we have seen in our lifetime.
Thankfully, it is not that simple in our country.
Standing in the path between bigotry and policy is our Constitution. In this case, specifically the First Amendment.
In addition to winning the first stay of the ban, the ACLU has launched a "We the People" campaign that features the First Amendment translated into other languages, including Arabic, and is displaying it in ads and billboards. Seeing the First Amendment in Arabic is particularly satisfying at this moment as a fitting reminder that those words apply to all of us.
I worked on Capitol Hill on Sept. 11, and I was in the room when Attorney General John Ashcroft first presented the Patriot Act to congressional leadership. Many at the time asked: Are we striking the right balance between protecting our national security and our civil liberties? We should always remember that if we are told we must choose one or the other, we are being offered a false choice and a shortsighted remedy that will provide neither. The same goes for bigoted, undemocratic policies demanding that we choose between freedom or safety.
Like those who advance them, policy remedies can either move our country forward or take us back.
The slogan on my friend's shirt belonged to a resistance campaign led by the White Rose, an extraordinary group of young people who were brutally executed for distributing leaflets in opposition to Nazi policies in Germany during World War II. The phrase "We will not be silent" is how they concluded their fourth resistance flyer.
Our fear of Arabic -- or more specifically, of Arabs and Muslims -- remains a problem for some, including those who currently hold some important positions in our government. It is driving an increase in incidents of hate and bad policies. We hope they will soon get over that irrational fear but until they do, we too will not be silent and are protected by the words of our Constitution and the judges sworn to uphold them.
After all, remember that my friend who was targeted for the two words of Arabic on his T-shirt is protected by the 34 words of Arabic -- or 45 in English -- appearing on a billboard near you.
If you want your own sticker copies of the First Amendment translated in Arabic, English and Spanish, they are available for pre-order here.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
In 2006, a human rights advocate, who is a friend, was prevented from boarding his flight from New York to California because of Arabic.
Yes, Arabic. The language spoken by more than 400 million people worldwide, making it one of the top five languages in the world and reportedly the fastest growing in the U.S., was the culprit.
My friend was wearing a T-shirt with the words "We will not be silent" in both Arabic and English. He was told he could not fly until the offending Arabic script was covered. And lest we think our issues with Arabic have resolved themselves in the last decade, remember that simply speaking Arabic on an airplane was grounds for removal from a flight just last year.
How we got to this point is a complicated matter, but the path forward doesn't have to be.
Since the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, Arab-Americans and American Muslims have come to be viewed by some of our fellow citizens and our own government as either victims of hate or potential perpetrators of violence. The latter view dictates we should be seen through a securitized lens and has produced profiling and surveillance of our communities, watch lists, and special registry programs, to name but a few programs targeting us.
However, both oversimplifications fail to capture the experience of being Arab or Muslim in post-9/11 America, and last year's presidential campaign demonstrated that with extraordinary clarity. We have heard condemnation of the surge in hate crimes but little discussion on how the rhetoric during the election contributed to that hate, particularly by leading policy makers and candidates. Instead of challenging bigoted misinformation, some candidates furthered it.
At a New Hampshire town hall, a voter declared to then-candidate Trump, "We have a problem in this country. It's called Muslims." He concluded by asking, "When can we get rid of them?" Mr. Trump's answer: "We are going to be looking at a lot of different things."
One could reasonably suggest President Trump's Muslim bans, in both incarnations, were the logical continuation of that conversation in New Hampshire. The Muslim ban is a candidate delivering on a campaign promise unlike any we have seen in our lifetime.
Thankfully, it is not that simple in our country.
Standing in the path between bigotry and policy is our Constitution. In this case, specifically the First Amendment.
In addition to winning the first stay of the ban, the ACLU has launched a "We the People" campaign that features the First Amendment translated into other languages, including Arabic, and is displaying it in ads and billboards. Seeing the First Amendment in Arabic is particularly satisfying at this moment as a fitting reminder that those words apply to all of us.
I worked on Capitol Hill on Sept. 11, and I was in the room when Attorney General John Ashcroft first presented the Patriot Act to congressional leadership. Many at the time asked: Are we striking the right balance between protecting our national security and our civil liberties? We should always remember that if we are told we must choose one or the other, we are being offered a false choice and a shortsighted remedy that will provide neither. The same goes for bigoted, undemocratic policies demanding that we choose between freedom or safety.
Like those who advance them, policy remedies can either move our country forward or take us back.
The slogan on my friend's shirt belonged to a resistance campaign led by the White Rose, an extraordinary group of young people who were brutally executed for distributing leaflets in opposition to Nazi policies in Germany during World War II. The phrase "We will not be silent" is how they concluded their fourth resistance flyer.
Our fear of Arabic -- or more specifically, of Arabs and Muslims -- remains a problem for some, including those who currently hold some important positions in our government. It is driving an increase in incidents of hate and bad policies. We hope they will soon get over that irrational fear but until they do, we too will not be silent and are protected by the words of our Constitution and the judges sworn to uphold them.
After all, remember that my friend who was targeted for the two words of Arabic on his T-shirt is protected by the 34 words of Arabic -- or 45 in English -- appearing on a billboard near you.
If you want your own sticker copies of the First Amendment translated in Arabic, English and Spanish, they are available for pre-order here.
In 2006, a human rights advocate, who is a friend, was prevented from boarding his flight from New York to California because of Arabic.
Yes, Arabic. The language spoken by more than 400 million people worldwide, making it one of the top five languages in the world and reportedly the fastest growing in the U.S., was the culprit.
My friend was wearing a T-shirt with the words "We will not be silent" in both Arabic and English. He was told he could not fly until the offending Arabic script was covered. And lest we think our issues with Arabic have resolved themselves in the last decade, remember that simply speaking Arabic on an airplane was grounds for removal from a flight just last year.
How we got to this point is a complicated matter, but the path forward doesn't have to be.
Since the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, Arab-Americans and American Muslims have come to be viewed by some of our fellow citizens and our own government as either victims of hate or potential perpetrators of violence. The latter view dictates we should be seen through a securitized lens and has produced profiling and surveillance of our communities, watch lists, and special registry programs, to name but a few programs targeting us.
However, both oversimplifications fail to capture the experience of being Arab or Muslim in post-9/11 America, and last year's presidential campaign demonstrated that with extraordinary clarity. We have heard condemnation of the surge in hate crimes but little discussion on how the rhetoric during the election contributed to that hate, particularly by leading policy makers and candidates. Instead of challenging bigoted misinformation, some candidates furthered it.
At a New Hampshire town hall, a voter declared to then-candidate Trump, "We have a problem in this country. It's called Muslims." He concluded by asking, "When can we get rid of them?" Mr. Trump's answer: "We are going to be looking at a lot of different things."
One could reasonably suggest President Trump's Muslim bans, in both incarnations, were the logical continuation of that conversation in New Hampshire. The Muslim ban is a candidate delivering on a campaign promise unlike any we have seen in our lifetime.
Thankfully, it is not that simple in our country.
Standing in the path between bigotry and policy is our Constitution. In this case, specifically the First Amendment.
In addition to winning the first stay of the ban, the ACLU has launched a "We the People" campaign that features the First Amendment translated into other languages, including Arabic, and is displaying it in ads and billboards. Seeing the First Amendment in Arabic is particularly satisfying at this moment as a fitting reminder that those words apply to all of us.
I worked on Capitol Hill on Sept. 11, and I was in the room when Attorney General John Ashcroft first presented the Patriot Act to congressional leadership. Many at the time asked: Are we striking the right balance between protecting our national security and our civil liberties? We should always remember that if we are told we must choose one or the other, we are being offered a false choice and a shortsighted remedy that will provide neither. The same goes for bigoted, undemocratic policies demanding that we choose between freedom or safety.
Like those who advance them, policy remedies can either move our country forward or take us back.
The slogan on my friend's shirt belonged to a resistance campaign led by the White Rose, an extraordinary group of young people who were brutally executed for distributing leaflets in opposition to Nazi policies in Germany during World War II. The phrase "We will not be silent" is how they concluded their fourth resistance flyer.
Our fear of Arabic -- or more specifically, of Arabs and Muslims -- remains a problem for some, including those who currently hold some important positions in our government. It is driving an increase in incidents of hate and bad policies. We hope they will soon get over that irrational fear but until they do, we too will not be silent and are protected by the words of our Constitution and the judges sworn to uphold them.
After all, remember that my friend who was targeted for the two words of Arabic on his T-shirt is protected by the 34 words of Arabic -- or 45 in English -- appearing on a billboard near you.
If you want your own sticker copies of the First Amendment translated in Arabic, English and Spanish, they are available for pre-order here.