Democracy: With Us or Against Us?

As the protests in Egypt continue, one phrase seems to be on everyone's mind: Mubarak out, Democracy in.  This is the goal of the Egyptian protestors occupying Tahrir Square in Cairo, and it is what hundreds have died and thousands have been injured for in these past two weeks.  Finally, after the lives of thousands of American soldiers have been lost in two wars waged to spread democracy to the Middle East, the people of a Middle East nation have gone to the streets in a revolution for representation and freedom.

And yet, America is afraid.

The United States fears the ouster of Egyptian "President" Hosni Mubarak (I use quotes because the word president implies a real election), a dictator we have supported for 30 years.  Despite his despotic rule, Mubarak has taken billions in US foreign aid to maintain a "cool peace" with Israel, and Americans from Obama down fears democracy will allow Egyptians to elect leaders less willing to compromise their beliefs for some cash.

But, as columnist Nicholas Kristof insists in his recent blog post, we should not worry about democracy in Egypt.  Indeed, I say, we should celebrate it.  And here's why:

Americans have been taught to see democracy and Islam as diametrically opposed; one is Western and just, the other is foreign and dangerous.  The protests in Egypt, however, have come to show that democracy has an increasingly crucial place within Islam.  In an opinion piece written yesterday in The New York Times, policy expert Reuel Marc Gerecht asserts that democracy not only represents the justice and freedom so integral in the Islamic religion, but it can work well in Egypt.  And he cautions us not to think of Egypt today in terms of Iran in 1979.

In 1979, a fundamentalist Islamic movement took power in the political vacuum left by the removal of a Western-supported despot carried out by a democratic revolution of the people.  Sound familiar?

The stage seems set in Egypt for a repeat of '79 Iran, a political shift that led to the rise of an oppressive Islamic regime that continues to pose perhaps the greatest threat to peace in the region.  But the movement in Egypt offers several stark contrasts.

First of all, as both Gerecht and Kristof note, the Muslim Brotherhood that seems poised to take the lead in the democratic process in Egypt has been forced by the Egyptian populace to abandon its most authoritarian theories of government in favor of representative rule.  The long-term rule of the Muslim Brotherhood is subject to a large group of Christians within the country that will be at the polling places keeping them in check.

In addition, the Islamic population of Egypt is mostly Sunni, not Shi'ite, and thus the leaders of the Brotherhood are not Ayatollahs and religious heads - those that fill the power structure of Shi'a tradition - but lay people, some with liberal beliefs.  Both columnists note that these leaders can and must be more receptive to the needs and wants of the Egyptian populace, and, even if they do rise to power, they will be held accountable by the energized voters of their nation.

The Egyptian protests offer Americans an important lesson: Islam and democracy are not mutually exclusive.  Although Mubarak's ouster could worsen relations between the Egyptian government and both the US and Israel, at least in the short run, this does not mean we should prevent democracy from taking hold.  For, as the bringers of democracy to the world, we cannot choose to whom it goes and when.

Indeed, I say, it is a sign of America's grand successes over the past 250 years that people in far regions of the world, who hold ideologies quite opposed to ours, want to model our system.  Egypt's democracy may come about just how ours did - in a hard-fought revolution against an oppressive regime.  Let's take this opportunity to separate ourselves from this oppression and be the nation that escaped the grasp of tyranny and created a government of the people, by the people, and for the people.

Just because, this time, these people aren't all white Christians, does not mean they're not people.

Otherizing

This week in my world literature and global issues classes, to accompany our study of Reading Lolita in Tehran, we have discussed the concept of "otherizing."  No, that is not a word in the dictionary, but allow me to explain:

"Otherizing" refers to idea that we have certain norms with which we classify our culture, and that anyone outside of these norms is the "other," and therefore completely different.  Take the example of the US.  Cultural norms of America say that we are white, Christian, English-speaking, and middle class.  Most Americans fit within these categories, and we thus define how we perceive ourselves and the culture we live in through this lens.  The "other," therefore, is anyone that doesn't fit into one or more of these categories - in the case of America, this can mean a black person, Jew, Muslim, Spanish-speaker, etc.  Once we have labeled someone as the "other," we tend to believe that, for everything we do and believe, they do and believe the complete opposition.  Take this example:

Part of the narrative in Reading Lolita in Tehran (see a previous post, where I talk more about the book) takes place during the 8-year long Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988).  During the war, the Islamic regime in Iran creates propaganda against Saddam Hussein's Iraqi regime and all of Iraq, calling Iraqis "heathens," and even "Zionists."  First of all, most Iraqis are Shi'a Muslims like Iranians, although Hussein's regime was Sunni.  And second of all, I wouldn't exactly call Saddam Hussein a Zionist (one who supports the Jews' right to a state in Israel).  But the Iranian regime sought to classify Iraq as the "other," and therefore assert that Iraq believed the opposite of everything Iran believed.  If Iran was good, Iraq was evil.  If Iran was Muslim, Iraqis were heathens.  The people of Iran could not understand the commonalities between themselves and Iraqis.  Maybe, had they not characterized them as the "other," but rather as similar peoples under rival regimes, they could have prevented such a destructive war.

So what does this have to do with our lives today, as Americans?  Well, today we fight in two wars against our nation's greatest threat: terrorism.  Robert Pape's article, "It's the Occupation, Stupid," in Foreign Policy, explores the narrative Americans have created of Muslims, and how that has affected our "war on terror."  He writes:

A simple narrative was readily available, and a powerful conventional wisdom began to exert its grip. Because the 9/11 hijackers were all Muslims, it was easy to presume that Islamic fundamentalism was the central motivating force driving the 19 hijackers to kill themselves in order to kill Americans. Within weeks after the 9/11 attacks, surveys of American attitudes show that this presumption was fast congealing into a hard reality in the public mind. Americans immediately wondered, "Why do they hate us?" and almost as immediately came to the conclusion that it was because of "who we are, not what we do." As President George W. Bush said in his first address to Congress after the 9/11 attacks: "They hate our freedoms: our freedom of religion, our freedom of speech, our freedom to vote and assemble and disagree with each other."

The growing belief among Americans, propagated by our President, that Islam caused the terrorists to attack us formed within our minds the concept of Islam as the "other."  Bush claimed that Muslims didn't believe in freedoms of religion, speech, voting, and assembly.  How could they?  We do, and they are the "other," so they must not.  Pape goes on to claim that our mission to Westernize countries like Afghanistan and Iraq, to bring democracy, women's rights, free trade, etc., stemmed from our belief that only our way of life was right, that it was either Western peace or Islamic terrorism.  This forced dichotomy created when we refer to Islam as the "other," or, in Bush's phrase, the "axis of evil," has brought us to equate Islam with terrorism.  Thus, this war on terror has truly become a war on Islam.

Unfortunately, the more we allow for this otherizing, the more the split between America and Islam grows, and the more the terrorists are out to get us.  Instead, I suggest we take a more open-minded approach, finding the commonalities and valuing the differences between us and the 1.4 billion Muslims in the world, most of whom have never even considered terrorism.  By humanizing, instead of otherizing, the Muslims, we can turn this un-win-able ideological war into a more pragmatic approach to counterterrorism.

Who is Iran?

When I say "Iran," what do you think of?  An enemy nation, part of the "axis of evil?" A fundamentalist Islamic regime and a bastion of anti-American sentiment?  Millions of covered women and bearded men observing Islam and preparing for holy war, possibly with nukes, against Israel and America?

Although you may not believe all of the above statements to be 100% true, I'm sure some of these descriptions of the country a plurality of Americans consider to be the our nation's greatest enemy sound familiar.  Indeed, they have come to define the media and political discourse on Iran for years, especially since the "war on terror" began.  But as I learn more about the government and people of Iran in my global issues and world literature classes, I have come to realize the dangerous fallacy in viewing all of Iran in such an antagonistic and closed-minded light.  Although there are those in Iran that wish to see the fall of Israel and the demise of the West, to understand the scope and extent of these beliefs in Iran is the responsibility of every American, especially those in charge, who wish to see a more peaceful Middle East and world.

Reading Lolita in Tehran, written by Azar Nafisi, an English literature professor who taught in an Iranian university before forming her own private class of seven bright Iranian women to study banned literature (more complete summary here), exposes the thoughts and experiences of the students' lives as they explore other people's fiction as well as their own.  As the women seek to discover their own identity under a regime determined to eliminate, or at least homogenize, it, the reader sees the complexity of these women underneath the chador (traditional Iranian veil).  Most of these students wear bright colors, western clothing, party with bootlegged alcohol, and all of them have an identity more individual than the Islamic regime - and our own media - would have us know.  In fact, in 2008, only one-fifth of Iranians surveyed held an unfavorable view of Americans, and most wanted more exchange between the two countries (according to Juan Cole's book Engaging the Muslim World).  Although many in the Islamic regime hold anti-American views, it is clear that the government and the people are not the same.

From a historical standpoint, the divergence between the people and government of Iran is clear, if we take the time to look.  After two revolutions to overthrow the monarchy ruling Iran were thwarted by Western nations, Iranians were finally able, in 1979, to overthrow the American-backed Shah.  Leftists, communists, feminists, Islamic fundamentalists, and many groups in between revolted against the Shah, but the religious Muslims under Ayatollah Khomeini was able to form a government.  The Islamic Republic of Iran was born before many revolutionaries realized it, and the Ayatollah silenced his opposition enough to centralize power.

The current Islamic regime does not represent the vibrant Persian culture veiled in Iran.  To understand this difference is a crucial first step in facing, or, perhaps optimistically, in working with, our nation's "greatest enemy."