Oh Little Town of Bethlehem

A few years ago I was blessed to visit The Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, the sacred place widely believed the birthplace of Jesus.

The town of Bethlehem in modern day West Bank suffers from conflict and social deprivation, divided from Jerusalem by a concrete wall. People from this part of the world face immense obstacles, both those that are seen and unseen, often turned away by those people and countries that claim to be guided by righteousness.

Every Christmas I think of this. I remember the Peace Center just beside the church that strives to improve the quality of life for those it serves. I think of their nativity scenes collected from around the world. I remember the poster exhibition for justice.

I think of those people who, like in the story of Joseph and Mary, are turned away.

Today, I am praying for peace.

This next year, may we all work harder than ever for peace.

Peace be upon you and yours. 

Merry Christmas.

2016 US Elections

After this weekend, the citizens of the United States will elect our next president. Now, as in the previous months, I am crippled by anxiety and apprehension for our future. 

Belfast International Peace Wall, January 2008

I was 18 when I encountered my first taste of anti-American sentiment. Of course I knew it was there - but I'm not sure I understood the extent of ridicule until I experienced life abroad. At the time, George Bush Jr. was our President and we were three years into our Invasion of Iraq. I can still feel the shame. I remember meeting fellow American travelers who told people, when asked where they were from, that they were Canadian. Many of us had lost our pride in being American and made some effort to distance ourselves from the politics.  

I so clearly remember people from other countries saying - it's not that we don't like the American people, it's that we don't like the American government. This is a nuance that will be harder to make in the face of public support for the racist, sexist, fascist beliefs voiced by candidate Donald Trump. 

Cork, Ireland 2006

We Americans can no longer hide behind the veil of lies we were fed during the Bush Administrations blunder in the Middle East in pursuit of phantom Weapons of Mass Destruction. During this 2016 election - half of the country has clearly voiced support of anti-Muslim, anti-immigrant, anti-women, anti-disabled, anti-Veteran rhetoric. I fear that the world sentiment may very well be shifting from a discontinuity with our politics to a shock at our values as a nation. Again, I feel the need to justify and qualify my personal Americanism. 

As a young teen in post 9-11 America I recognized the changing climate of our country with the beginning of the War on Terror and the rise of nationalism. It was within this context that I chose my path in Middle East Studies and Conflict Resolution - to build bridges between the US and the Middle East, to mend interfaith relations within our country and beyond. During the first decade of the new millennia, this was one issue that dominated the political and social discourse of the US - and thereby influenced my life in a major way.  

2008 Election signage, The Bahamas

I was 20 years old the first time I voted in the US Presidential Elections. It was an honor and privilege to cast a ballot in support of Barack Obama, a man who had given his life to community service - and whose campaign had made positive impacts on the world. The global euphoria during and following Obama's road to the presidency was unlike anything I had witnessed in politics during my lifetime. If his Nobel Peace Prize was premature, it did at the very least mark the tremendous influence "hope" and "change" can have. When I traveled during these years the conversation was different - the world was again on "our side" - they had some faith in our direction and purpose. 

Border between El Paso, TX and Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, 2008

At the time of the 2008 election I was in college, writing for the school paper. Prior to the election I wrote an OpEd about how a vote for Obama was a vote for the World. Again, the international community is watching our next step. From hastags like #fucksgiving - where humans around the world tell us they care about our vote to #tellAmericaitsgreat - where Canadians praise their southern sibling in the face of fearmongering, the world is speaking up against the possibility of Trump. Again, we have a responsibility to consider the potential outcomes - not just for ourselves, but for others. 

The problem, though, is that people in my country believe so deeply on both sides. 

Western Maryland, 2011

What I have learned in the last 6 months of living in a pro-Trump community is that Trump supporters hate Hillary as much as I hate Trump. They truly, deeply, wholeheartedly feel that Hillary is worse. I try to listen and understand the opinions of Trump supporters and some of their arguments genuinely make sense to me. I worry, however, that in an attempt to elect a non-politician President who will "shake things up", we are at risk of choosing a candidate who has no concern for protecting and defending human rights. 

How can we refuse safe haven to refugees? 

How can we tear apart immigrant families?

How can we punish women for making decisions about their own bodies? 

How can we persecute people based on their religion? 

How can we deny that Black Lives Matter? 

How can we ignore Native Rights at Standing Rock? 

How can we disagree with healthcare for all? With a living wage? With dignity for all? 

These issues are not political - they are and should forever be guaranteed human rights that are defended and ensured by all candidates - Republican or Democrat! In this election, they are only defended by one candidate. 

Pine Ridge Native American Reservation, 2009

There will be no victory party for either side on Wednesday, because regardless of the outcome - there will be a very real feeling of loss for one half of our nation. It is a deep conflict that the election itself has no hope to resolve.

We will need to rebuild relations internally and foster faith internationally. And it will be down to us, on the ground to do the work. Grassroots efforts. Supporting our families and our communities and giving and doing all that we can to continue striving for the changes we believe will sustain us. 

My greatest hope is that on Wednesday we don't wake to find that the issues, rights and justice we're fighting for aren't the essential human truths that Trump threatens to destroy. 

The EU Referendum

Like many of you, the EU referendum is deeply personal to me.

I moved to Northern Ireland to study peacebuilding, as it is and has been one of the most inspirational models for the world. The EU has been responsible for supporting this process since before the Good Friday Agreement and has allocated funds (in the billions...) along with non-monetary resource to tiny wee Northern Ireland for peace projects which have and continue to transform the place and the people who live there. I have had the pleasure of working and volunteering on these projects, and I can testify to their vast potential.

This vote has divided Northern Ireland again on sectarian lines, and the implications for the province, the island of Ireland, the Union and the EU are massive. The future is uncertain. It is likely the Protestant-Unionist-Loyalist (PUL) community who vastly voted ‪#‎leave‬, have precipitated huge changes for their wee country. Changes they have voted and struggled against for decades. They thought they were voting for better healthcare, less immigration, and more accountability from their elected representatives. They will see how grievously they were lied to.

Like many of my closest friends, I lived in Northern Ireland (the UK) on EU rights (as a family member to an EU citizen). There was no UK path available to me. These EU rights allowed me to remain in the UK with my partner (now husband), to continue my work, and to build a life in a place I love. 

If I had a penny for every bigoted, hateful person that told me I wasn't the immigrant they had a problem with, I would be a richer person than I am. Sure I am American, they would say... I reply to these people: Please, travel. Meet people who are different from you. Your mind may (hopefully) change on immigration. And also, you are keeping me out, whether you meant to or not.

Finally, I have my best friends in the world in Northern Ireland because of the open flow of people within the EU to study and work. They are from across the EU member states or they are from Belfast and the surroundings and are rich in experience because of their work, travel and study abroad. I met many of my closest friends working in a multinational company that invests in Belfast as a hub for its European business. I can't imagine what the atmosphere will be like in that office today, where thousands have relocated from around the world, bringing economy, diversity, and positive change to Northern Ireland. 

You have told me and my friends we don't matter to you and your country. You have no idea. 

Let this be a wake up call to my own country! We cannot allow right-winged politics and politicians to fear monger their way into power and policy change with hateful rhetoric and targeted scapegoating against Muslims, Migrants, Refugees, and other world leaders. 

Closing borders and building walls has no place in a global world. 

We cannot. 

I will not.

Alhambra - Dreaming of return

This August I had the great fortune of visiting Alhambra in the hills of Granada. I understood Alhambra was the best preserved medieval Islamic Palace in the world and I longed to bask in its glory. An enthusiast of the Arabic language, the religion of Islam, and history of the Middle East and North Africa region; I had romantic notions of smoking shisha by the reflecting pool, drinking mint tea in the gardens, and discussing philosophy with 14^th century Sufi mystics and scholars (this is a romantic fantasy that historian, Robert Irwin, systematically rejects in his book The Alhambra).   

What I’m only just beginning to realize is that Alhambra, above all else, is a reminder of how cruel we can be to one another, it is what Robert Irwin describes in his book “as an icon for exile and loss” (Irwin, 181).

In 1492, the same year Columbus subjugated and committed genocide against the native peoples in the New World; Ferdinand and Isabella expelled the Muslims and Jews from Spain, most of whom had family ties in the region for centuries. The Christian rulers moved into Alhambra, and claimed and re-imaged other Moorish buildings across the province. This period of torture, violence, and suppression is not exclusive to Spain, however, it is easily ignored or forgotten when enjoying the rich quality of life Andalusia offers to holiday-makers today.

Reflecting on my experience of visiting Alhambra has transformed the meaning of this beautiful palace into something more powerful, and indeed more painful. It has forced me to concede that the terrible period of Inquisition and Expulsion is not history from five centuries ago, it is the experience that has been and continues to be shared with many others.

Those who were banished and exiled, those who fled to the mountains, across the sea, to North Africa and beyond, brought with them the keys to their homes and the deeds to their lands in Al-Andalus. I wonder how many believed this exile to be temporary. I wonder how many ever saw their homes again. I wonder how many never relinquished hope that they would one day return.

In this memory of Alhambra I hear other stories.

I hear Jews around a Passover seder praying “next year in Jerusalem,” millennia after the fall of the Temple. I hear Palestinians who fled following the violence of al-naqba in 1948. I hear Holocaust survivors who longed to return to their homes across Europe. I hear generations of immigrants speak of their right to return. I hear stories from West Belfast residents where “they” are living in “our” homes and sitting on “our” couches, decades after the internal displacement during the Troubles in Northern Ireland forced many to relocate to segregated single-identity enclaves. I hear Syrian refugees who are still making their journey to safety, bringing with them the keys to homes they may never see again.

Others too have seen this connection. Robert Irwin quotes the acclaimed Palestinian author, Mahmoud Darwish, who saw that “Andalus became a lost place, then Palestine became Andalus, we lost Palestine just as we had lost Andalus.” (Irwin, 184). Again and again, the pain we inflict upon one another, in different places and in new times, reappears. Alhambra, in one of its many forms, is a shrine to this suffering.

When I returned home from my trip to Alhambra, like thousands of others have done before me over the centuries of tourism, I shared the beautiful images of the reconstructed buildings on Facebook. My friend, a Palestinian who was born in Jordan after her family were forced to flee, shared the album with the message to express look what we have lost. It was only then that I could truly view Alhambra through a new lens.

Towards the end of his book, Irwin quotes the French author Chateauxbriand saying, “man goes to meditate on the ruin of empires; he forgets that he is himself a ruin still more unsteady, and that he will fall before these remains” (Irwin, 165). With this quote I was transported back to Alhambra, standing before the fountains and facades, thinking of civilisations gone by. It is only after this further reflection on my experience and on the meaning Alhambra has for others that I am able to begin to understand what he means.

In reflecting on “ruins”, in the form of old buildings, lost civilisations, and most importantly human failings, we can begin to understand where we went wrong and how we can re-build in a better way.