In a world that is hyper fixated on individualism and self centeredness, I often question how it simultaneously craves connection and community. As a result, I’ve noticed that how we develop these groups is determined by an array of contributing factors outside of our scope of power and understanding. My hypothesis is that one major contributing factor is how language is utilised – both publicly and privately. Language has always been a powerful tool to direct our perception of how we view ourselves, others, and overall the world as a whole. It creates understanding and helps us make sense of ideas that may be unfamiliar. But as our global digital footprint continues to exponentially expand, I believe that language has the potential to actually control how we view individuals and social groups. For Muslims in particular, language has been a powerful way to produce a reductionist view of 1.9 billion people. This, in conjunction with the rise of the internet and social media has created some real concerns for Muslims both in the past, present and potentially the future.
But to really understand how we got here, let’s rewind. As a child who grew up in a post 9/11 era, my experience wasn’t unique. I always knew I was different. I was looked at and treated differently – but I never (fully) knew why. In hindsight, having my parents constantly blaring the television on any outlet of news both Eastern or Western, really drew my attention to the ways that we as Muslims were perceived: “violent”, “fanatic” and my personal favourite, “terrorist”. The irony that we were othered in a place that we were meant to view as home was never lost on me. I guess it was no surprise that being dealt a hand like that meant I was constantly justifying myself by being a better speaker, reader and writer in school.
The term ‘Islamophobia’ was induced rapidly throughout Western Media shortly after, and it was only then I quickly understood that we weren’t the heroes in this narrative. On the contrary, for the foreseeable future, the term would only become more loaded (and vague) as time went along. “Radical”, “fundamentalism” “war” and “oppression” also became synonymous with the term “Islamophobia”. The hatred for Muslims grew rapidly and more intense. A statistic published by Goleen Samari in The National Library of Medicine reported that a poll taken directly after 9/11 reported that “60% of Americans reported an unfavourable attitude towards Muslims”[1]. In Australia, the use of language against Muslims was even more powerful. Peter Manning observed that “the percentage of articles mentioning the words 'Muslim'/ 'Islam' as well as the words 'extremist', 'fundamentalist' or 'terrorist' increased by a factor of about 10 in the Telegraph and six in the Herald, for the year following 9/11.”[2] Furthermore, the Anti-Discrimination Board of New South Wales (ADB) found that:
Over the past 18 months, debates in the media about September 11, the international 'war on terror', the prospect of US-led attacks on Iraq, the Tampa dispute, Australia's policies regarding asylum seekers, and the ongoing debates about law and order in Sydney, have had the cumulative effect of generating a 'moral panic' in Australia. The central feature linking, simplifying and blurring these debates is race, encompassing concepts of ethnicity, culture, religion and nationality. Print, radio and television news media representations have increasingly drawn on race as the explanation for or cause of conflict, deviant behaviour or social problems.[3]
But like many first generation Australian children who had immigrant parents, resilience and resistance is in their blood. They still pushed us and refused to concede to the idea that their children would be reduced to such stereotypes. Despite their best efforts, the unfortunate reality was that even if we progressed to do all the things that would provide us with economic and social success, we were still the bad guys. No matter how eloquent, expressive or educated you were - you’re ultimately Muslim, and therein lies the implicit bias that “you’re no good here.”
Fast forward to our current social media era, where voices are louder, more nuanced and varied. I watched a short video from comedian Ramy Youssef on The Daily Show reflecting on how the terms “Islamophobia” and “Antisemitism” are received by the global public. Despite reflecting similar parallels Youssef remarks that “Islamophobia is so weak… so benign - antisemitism is like… woah!” he continues to say “even from just on a real word language level, we’re at an incredible disadvantage”. The punchline is when Jon Stuart says “I never thought of it that way” to which Youssef replies “it’s because you’re an Islamaphobe!” In contrast, if we look at the word “antisemitism” etymologically speaking it identifies precisely what the concept actually entails. Youssef's theory is then correct: It’s clear, concise and leaves no room for interpretation. It’s strong, which is the opposite of how people view Muslims when they hear the term Islamophobia. It has the power to flip the script and become a projection of you and your character as a person (which is, woah).
As a result, what Youssef identifies is crucial: language is the cornerstone to how we view and interpret the world around us. If you think about our global climate, especially in reference to what is happening in Gaza we observe that there are huge discrepancies when it comes to how both groups are reported on when it comes to the language used in order to develop our understanding on how we view the genocide overall, especially when it comes to Muslims. Despite the horrific circumstances being endured, if you’re Muslim it is inferred that you must be weak, uneducated and aggressive. Western media outlets have convinced the masses that Islam and its adherents are a threat to western society. However, this is not against who Muslims actually are, but how they have been perceived to be: a villainous monolith who believe in violent extremism. The connotations that come with Islamophobia are rife with so many racial and religious stigmas that it also further divides individuals in having a better understanding of Muslims as a whole. This reinforces the idea of pushing for an individualistic society whilst the masses are craving for a shared and unified collective experience. This also proves the theory that language is powerful, and does have the potential to ignite real change. But the question remains: What do we do? Where do we start? How can we flip the narrative?
Ultimately, it all begins with small personal changes. We must remember that the language we use to reflect on any group of people holds more power than what we think or perceive. The social culture around linguistic expression of any group of people is a direct reflection of our acceptance of these concepts and characteristics that encompass so much of our everyday vernacular. We must remember that despite what we think, we are in charge of how we see ourselves in this world. Our job is to see this, change ourselves and to not be afraid to call our unacceptable behaviour which in turn may change overall attitudes when it comes to how people view Islamophobia as a whole. The more this happens, the change (despite it being slow) will occur. Although we may think our actions aren’t powerful, as a collective they certainly are. I don’t know about you, but I think being a “terrorist” and a “fundamentalist” is becoming a little stale. How about being a “revolutionist” instead?
By Mariam Bazzi
[1] Samari G. (2016) Islamophobia and Public Health in the United States. Am J Public Health. Nov;106(11):1920-1925. doi: 10.2105/AJPH.2016.303374. Epub 2016 Sep 15. Erratum in: Am J Public Health. 2016 Dec;106(12):e13. doi: 10.2105/AJPH.2016.303374e. PMID: 27631738; PMCID: PMC5055770.
[2] Manning, P (2004) Dog Whistle Politics and Journalism: Reporting Arabic and Muslim people in Sydney newspapers, Australian Centre for Independent Journalism, University of Technology, Sydney
[3] Anti-Discrimination Board of New South Wales (2003) Race for the Headlines: Racism and media discourse, Anti-Discrimination Board ofNSW, Sydney, http://www.lawlink.nsw.gov.au/adb.nsf/pages/raceheadlines