Islam in America

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Football Team Wears Hijab

Posted: 04/23/2012 1:26 pm Updated: 04/23/2012 4:56 pm Huffington Post A flag football team took a stand against discrimination by donning hijabs in support of their Muslim teammate. Members of the West Broward High School team wore the traditional Muslim headdress during the final game of their regular season in order to support their 17-year-old captain, Irum Khan, who has often been the victim of name-calling and racial slurs because of her faith, the Sun Sentinel reports. Players wore the the colorful scarves while performing their pre-game warm-ups, though uniform regulations forced them to remove the headdresses before hitting the field. The gesture opened the eyes of teammates like senior Marilyn Solorzano, who said she admired Kham for sticking to her beliefs. "Everybody looked at us weird," Solorzano told the Sun Sentinel. "I understand now everything she went through and how hard it must have been. We just wore it for one day, and we noticed the difference." Visit the Sun Sentinel online to read the full story on Irum Khan and her teammates. Khan joins the ranks of Muslim women like fencer Ibtihaj Muhammad, who are working to break barriers and empower others. Muhammad, who is competing for a spot on the U.S. Olympic team, said she believes a person's faith or race does not dictate her future. "I think my motto in this whole experience is that sports is something you can do in hijab, and you shouldn't let your faith compromise how athletically gifted you become," Muhammad told HuffPost blogger Laura Tillman. If successful, Muhammad could be the first U.S. athlete to wear a hijab in the Olympics. In the past, the hijab has been a topic of controversy in sports, such as soccer, where top organizations have banned women from wearing the traditional headscarf during play. The International Federation of Association Football (FIFA), however, is now considering the allowance of custom-made "sports hijabs" that are fitted to athletes, the QMI Agency reports. Similarly, Caroline De Lazzer, coach of the UAE women's jiu-jitsu team, is taking a stand against regulations that prohibit women from participating in international competitions while wearing the hijab, the National reports. Unlike the organization in the UAE, the International Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Federation (IBJJF) currently doesn't allow women to participate in competitions while wearing the headdress. De Lazzer asks that women be able to wear the sports hijabs and cites other sports that allow the garment. "The headscarf is permitted and worn without incident in several competitive sports including taekwondo, an Olympic sport," De Lazzer told the National. "Even [FIFA] are rethinking lifting the ban on the headscarf, so I am very hopeful we will receive a [favorable] response." Correction: A previous version of this article incorrectly identified Irum Khan as Irum Kham. SOURCE: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/04/23/flag-football-team-wears-hijab_n_1445644.html

Saturday, April 21, 2012

A Dangerous Mind?

April 21, 2012
A Dangerous Mind?
By ANDREW F. MARCH
The New York Times

LATE last year, a jury in Boston convicted Tarek Mehanna, a 29-year-old pharmacist born in Pittsburgh, of material support for terrorism, conspiring to provide material support to terrorists and conspiring to kill in a foreign country, after a 35-day trial in which I testified as an expert witness for the defense.

On April 12, Mr. Mehanna was sentenced to 17 and a half years in prison. Hearing this, most Americans would probably assume that the F.B.I. caught a major homegrown terrorist and that 17 and a half years is reasonable punishment for someone plotting to engage in terrorism. The details, however, reveal this to be one of the most important free speech cases we have seen since Brandenburg v. Ohio in 1969.

As a political scientist specializing in Islamic law and war, I frequently read, store, share and translate texts and videos by jihadi groups. As a political philosopher, I debate the ethics of killing. As a citizen, I express views, thoughts and emotions about killing to other citizens. As a human being, I sometimes feel joy (I am ashamed to admit) at the suffering of some humans and anger at the suffering of others.

At Mr. Mehanna’s trial, I saw how those same actions can constitute federal crimes.

Because Mr. Mehanna’s conviction was based largely on things he said, wrote and translated. Yet that speech was not prosecuted according to the Brandenburg standard of incitement to “imminent lawless action” but according to the much more troubling standard of having the intent to support a foreign terrorist organization.

Mr. Mehanna was convicted and sentenced based on two broad sets of facts. First, in 2004, Mr. Mehanna traveled with a friend to Yemen for a week, in search, the government said, of a jihadi training camp from which they would then proceed to Iraq to fight American nationals. The trip was a complete bust, and Mr. Mehanna returned home.

Some of his friends continued to look for ways to join foreign conflicts. One even fought in Somalia. But Mr. Mehanna stayed home, completed a doctorate in pharmacology and practiced and taught in the Boston area. But the Yemen trip and the actions of his friends were only one part of the government’s case.

For the government, Mr. Mehanna’s delivery of “material support” consisted not in his failed effort to join jihadi groups he never found, nor in financial contributions he never made to friends trying to join such groups, but in advocating the jihadi cause from his home in Sudbury.

MR. MEHANNA’S crimes were speech crimes, even thought crimes. The kinds of speech that the government successfully criminalized were not about coordinating acts of terror or giving directions on how to carry out violent acts. The speech for which Mr. Mehanna was convicted involved the religious and political advocacy of certain causes beyond American shores.

The government’s indictment of Mr. Mehanna lists the following acts, among others, as furthering a criminal conspiracy: “watched jihadi videos,” “discussed efforts to create like-minded youth,” “discussed” the “religious justification” for certain violent acts like suicide bombings, “created and/or translated, accepted credit for authoring and distributed text, videos and other media to inspire others to engage in violent jihad,” “sought out online Internet links to tribute videos,” and spoke of “admiration and love for Usama bin Laden.” It is important to appreciate that those acts were not used by the government to demonstrate the intent or mental state behind some other crime in the way racist speech is used to prove that a violent act was a hate crime. They were the crime, because the conspiracy was to support Al Qaeda by advocating for it through speech.

Much of Mr. Mehanna’s speech on Web sites and in IM chats was brutal, disgusting and unambiguously supportive of Islamic insurgencies in Iraq, Afghanistan and Somalia. In one harrowing IM chat, which the government brought up repeatedly during the trial, he referred to the mutilation of the remains of American soldiers in response to the rape of a 14-year-old Iraqi girl as “Texas BBQ.” He wrote poetry in praise of martyrdom. But is the government right that such speech, however repulsive, can be criminalized as material support for terrorism?

In the 2010 Supreme Court decision Holder v. Humanitarian Law Project, Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. declared that for speech to qualify as criminal material support, it has to take the form of expert advice or assistance conveyed in coordination with or under the control of a designated foreign terrorist organization. In that decision, Justice Roberts reaffirmed that “under the material-support statute, plaintiffs may say anything they wish on any topic” and pointed out that “Congress has not sought to suppress ideas or opinions in the form of ‘pure political speech.’ ” Justice Roberts emphasized that he wanted to “in no way suggest that a regulation of independent speech would pass constitutional muster, even if the Government were to show that such speech benefits foreign terrorist organizations.”

The government’s case against Mr. Mehanna, however, did not rest on proving that his translations were done in coordination with Al Qaeda. Citing no explicit coordination with or direction by a foreign terrorist organization, the government’s case rested primarily on Mr. Mehanna’s intent in saying the things he said — his political and religious thoughts, feelings and viewpoints.

The prosecution’s strategy, a far cry from Justice Roberts’s statement that “independent advocacy” of a terror group’s ideology, aims or methods is not a crime, produced many ominous ideas. For example, in his opening statement to the jury one prosecutor suggested that “it’s not illegal to watch something on the television. It is illegal, however, to watch something in order to cultivate your desire, your ideology.” In other words, viewing perfectly legal material can become a crime with nothing other than a change of heart. When it comes to prosecuting speech as support for terrorism, it’s the thought that counts.

That is all troubling enough, but it gets worse. Not only has the government prosecuted a citizen for “independent advocacy” of a terror group, but it has prosecuted a citizen who actively argued against much of what most Americans mean when they talk about terrorism.

On a Web site that the government made central to the conspiracy charge, Mr. Mehanna angrily contested the common jihadi argument that American civilians are legitimate targets because they democratically endorse their government’s wars and pay taxes that support these wars.

Mr. Mehanna viewed Muslim attacks on foreign occupying militaries as justified but rejected the Qaeda doctrine that the civilian citizens of a foreign country at war with Muslims can be targeted. His doctrine was that “those who fight Muslims may be fought, not those who have the same nationality as those who fight.”

The centerpiece of the government’s case against Mr. Mehanna’s speech activities was a translation of a text titled “39 Ways to Serve and Participate in Jihad.” The government described this text, written by a late pro-jihad Saudi religious scholar, as a “training manual for terrorism.” It is nothing of the sort. It is a fairly routine exercise of Islamic jurisprudence explaining to pious Muslims how they can discharge what many of them believe to be a duty to contribute to wars of self-defense.

This text does explain that in Islamic law a Muslim may “go for jihad” or “collect funds for the mujahidin.” But it also explains that, in place of fighting or sending money, a Muslim can assuage his conscience and take care of widows and children, praise fighters, pray for fighters, become physically fit, learn first aid, learn the Islamic rules of war, have feelings of enmity for one’s enemies, spread news about captives and abandon luxury.

The act of translating this text is far from incitement to violent action. The text in fact shows Muslims numerous ways to help fellow Muslims suffering in their own lands, without engaging in violence. Instead of this common-sense reading, however, the government did something extraordinary. It used this text of Islamic law to help define for us what should count as a violation of our own material support law.

Everything Mr. Mehanna did, from hiking to praying, was given a number in the indictment based on this text as an act of material support for jihad. For example, his online discussion with a friend about working out and exercising should, in the government’s words, be “placed next to the directives in 39 Ways (Step 25: ‘Become Physically Fit’).” Federal prosecutors, in effect, used a Saudi religious scholar to tell us what our “material support” statute means.

The Mehanna case presented an excruciating line-drawing exercise. How pro-Al Qaeda is too pro-Al Qaeda, legally speaking?

We have the resources to prevent acts of violence without threatening the First Amendment. The Mehanna prosecution is a frightening and unnecessary attempt to expand the kinds of religious and political speech that the government can criminalize. The First Circuit Court of Appeals in Boston should at least invalidate Mr. Mehanna’s conviction for speech and reaffirm the Supreme Court’s doctrines in Brandenburg and Holder v. Humanitarian Law Project. Otherwise, the difference between what I do every day and what Mr. Mehanna did is about the differences between the thoughts in our heads and the feelings in our hearts, and I don’t trust prosecutors with that jurisdiction.

Andrew F. March is an associate professor of political science at Yale.

SOURCE: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/22/opinion/sunday/a-dangerous-mind.html

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Muppies

Muslim Urban Professionals: http://muppies.org/

We’re an organization dedicated to building Muslim professional leaders. Through Muppies, we hope to create a vibrant community that allows for networking, mentorship and career development amongst established and emerging Muslim professional leaders.

Muslims on Wall Street, Bridging Two Traditions

By KEVIN ROOSE
April 14, 2012
The New York Times

NAIEL IQBAL’S co-workers couldn’t figure him out.

He’d just started at a Midtown Manhattan hedge fund — the kind of elite enclave where overachievers in button-downs go to make a few hundred grand before heading off to Harvard Business School. But Mr. Iqbal, 27, a graduate of the Wharton School, wasn’t acting like a typical finance guy. He didn’t introduce himself around the office. Nor did he grab lunch with the other traders.

In fact, he didn’t eat at all. Or drink. Not coffee, not soda, not even a sip of water from a Nalgene bottle on his desk. All day, he just sat there, staring into his Bloomberg terminal. Was he sick? Nervous? A modern Bartleby?

None of the above: It was Ramadan, and Mr. Iqbal, a Muslim, was exhausted from fasting daily till sundown.

“I’m actually a huge foodie,” he recalls with a laugh. “When Ramadan ended, I was, like: ‘Guys, let’s go to this restaurant! Let’s go to that one!’ Nobody had seen that side of me.”

Mr. Iqbal — who doesn’t drink or smoke — is among a growing number of young Muslims who are disrupting Wall Street’s old-boy culture. Seen from a certain angle, the Street can still look like a monolith — a cohort of white males with Ivy League degrees and Roman numerals attached to their names. (This is especially true the higher you look; there are, for example, no black, female or openly gay chief executives at the nation’s largest banks.)

But as the Street adapts to greater regulation, lower profits and tighter costs, it is also experiencing change within its ranks. Among entry-level financiers, especially, a years-long recruiting effort at major banks has resulted in a diverse group of aspiring Masters of the Universe.

Young Muslims, one of the newest groups to make inroads in American finance, can face steep barriers to entry. Some obstacles are remnants of a less tolerant era. But prominent, too, are the limitations of Islam itself — a faith whose tenets, Muslim workers say, often seem at odds with Wall Street’s sometimes bacchanalian culture.

“I’m always the one drinking Diet Coke at happy hour,” Mr. Iqbal said.

Granted, for the many Muslims in New York and elsewhere who have made peace with a more secular culture, working on Wall Street may not pose any problem. And Muslims, of course, aren’t the only ones whose values can clash with the ways of Wall Street. Orthodox Jews, conservative Christians and other faithful working in finance have all, at one point, had to square their beliefs and practices with an environment in which money, not God, is king.

But for observant Muslims hoping to keep the values and practices of Islamic law, known as Sharia, intact even as they climb the ladder, the calculus can be messy.

For Aisha Jukaku, a former health care analyst at Goldman Sachs, getting started in finance carried additional challenges. Ms. Jukaku has worn a head scarf, or hijab, since she was 11. Like many conservative Muslim women, she avoids physical contact with men outside her family. (She makes exceptions for handshakes extended to her in a business setting that would be awkward to decline.)

“It’s not something I want to do,” she says of shaking hands with men. “But that’s the common American way of doing business.”

At Goldman, where she worked from 2006 to 2008, she developed a daily routine that let her preserve her religious beliefs while not missing a beat at work. She would wake before sunrise in her Battery Park City apartment, conduct her first of five daily prayers, then fall back asleep until around 8:30 a.m., when she would head to work. While at Goldman, she dressed more modestly than most of her colleagues, and found a room in the firm’s health center where she could pray during the day. During Ramadan one year, a staffing director, seeing how tired she looked after completing a big deal on an empty stomach, took pity on her.

“He said: ‘Take it easy for the next couple weeks. This can’t be fun for you,’ ” said Ms. Jukaku, who now works as a freelance financial consultant.

FOR many Muslims in finance, such delicate negotiations are part of life. Ali Akbar, 34, a Pakistan-born managing director at RBC Capital Markets, says that although he observes the Ramadan fast, he doesn’t always pray five times a day and doesn’t pray in his office to avoid drawing the attention of colleagues. And when the demands of his job collide with the teachings of his faith, a tough choice often follows.

“You can’t just get up in the middle of a deal and say, ‘I have to go spend two hours in a mosque,’ ” Mr. Akbar says.

Working in finance is straightforward enough in a Muslim country, where prayer breaks are typical and holidays like Eid al-Fitr, marking the end of Ramadan, are built into the calendar. But Muslim bankers in the United States have fewer resources. Many don’t have dedicated prayer rooms at work, and leaving the office to attend Friday prayers at a mosque can mean shuffling duties to a co-worker.

“We have a concept called law of necessity,” said Rushdi Siddiqui, global head of Islamic finance at Thomson Reuters. “You have to, at one level, abide by the laws of the land that you happen to reside in, whether it’s the formal laws or the unwritten laws.”

Perhaps the biggest impediment to greater participation by Muslims on Wall Street is that, by some readings, the Koran prohibits riba, or interest. Some Islamic scholars have interpreted the ban to be more inclusive of modern finance, and a subgenre of Sharia-compliant financial transactions, known as sukuk, has tried to bridge the gap.

Still, a vast majority of Wall Street deals are not Sharia-compliant. So observant Muslims at traditional banks are often forced to shift their boundaries. “What I was doing wasn’t 100 percent legitimate in terms of religious ruling,” Ms. Jukaku says of her work at Goldman. “But after a while, you stop feeling guilty, I guess.”

In 2006, three Muslim twenty-somethings formed a group to help fellow young professionals negotiate issues that arise. The organization, Muslim Urban Professionals, nicknamed “Muppies,” began as a Google group of around 50; members traded messages about job openings, notices of apartments for rent and announcements of group dinners. It has expanded to about 1,000 members globally, roughly half of whom work in finance, according to Mr. Iqbal, the hedge fund trader, who is now a national administrator of the group.

As the Muppies’ ranks have grown, more intimate questions have surfaced. Earlier this year, one member, who was about to start a job at a well-known consulting firm, e-mailed the group for advice. How, he wondered, could he succeed at his new job without compromising his Muslim values?

The consultant’s plea, under the subject line “Avoiding Alcohol and Opposite Gender Handshakes in the Corporate World,” received a vast range of responses. In regard to the alcohol issue, Muppies respondents divided into liberal, moderate and conservative camps — those who suggested that going to bars with colleagues was permissible, those who thought “drinking-focused events” were unadvisable but that dinners where alcohol was served were O.K., and those who insisted that places serving alcohol were to be avoided.

“The dominant opinion is that it’s still mustahab (recommended) to get up or leave a gathering where alcohol is served, but many consider it mubah (permissible) to stay seated,” the consultant wrote.

On the matter of handshaking, some urged the consultant to shake hands with women when prompted, but not to initiate handshakes himself. Others suggested adopting “a tactful technique to avoid” shaking hands, such as pretending to be sick or wearing gloves.

“I think Muslim professionals are too sensitive and underestimate our co-workers,” the consultant wrote, summarizing his own views. “People in our society are actually quite understanding of these things and we just freak out, thinking, ‘OMG, what will they all think if I don’t shake her hand??!!’ Just trust in God and He will guide you and give you more than that which you give up for him.”

The Muppies also draw on a network of older, more experienced mentors in finance and investing. One such mentor, Iftikar A. Ahmed, a general partner at the venture capital firm Oak Investment Partners, says the Muppies fill an “amazing need” in the community.

“It’s telling them that you can follow an American way of life while not denying the fact that you happen to be a Muslim,” Mr. Ahmed said.

Mohamed A. El-Erian, chief executive of the giant bond house Pimco and one of the highest-ranking Muslims in American finance, said in an e-mail interview that he had never experienced “religion-based impediments” in his decades-long career. He said he would advise young Muslims to “seek the opportunities and firms that speak to their set of values, expertise and passion.”

Left unsaid by senior Muslims, but understood by many Muppies, is that being Muslim can be an asset for one’s employer and clients. Muslim bankers, for example, may have to leave work at 1 p.m. on Fridays to go to the mosque. But they also may be less likely to rack up a huge bar tab on the company card and may be better positioned to compete for business in Arab markets.

“Rightly or wrongly, if you’re religious, you’re considered to have a reasonable degree of integrity,” says Sohail Khan, a managing principal at StormHarbour Securities and former trader at Citigroup. He says that his business expenses are often lower than colleagues’ and that he considers his lifestyle an asset in negotiating deals. “When you’re the only guy at the table that’s not drunk, it’s a great weapon,” he said. “You know more than anyone else at the table the next morning.”

Mr. Akbar of RBC agrees that “being a good Muslim helps you be a good banker” but acknowledges that the union of his religious beliefs and his work in finance has been less than perfect.

“When I made a decision to pursue a career on Wall Street, there were certain things I knew I would have trouble reconciling with my faith,” he says. “I did some research, and I gained comfort that God is all-forgiving.”

For some, though, the envelope can be pushed only so far. Farhan Malik, Mr. Khan’s cousin and former Citigroup colleague, found his faith tested last year when asked to work on a trade involving British pubs. Mr. Malik, who does not drink, decided that trading so-called pub securities would violate tenets of his faith. He asked to be taken off the assignment; his bosses gladly acquiesced.

For Mr. Malik, who has since left Citigroup and now works at a Bahrain bank that deals sukuk products in addition to more conventional ones, the notion of marrying Western bank culture with Islam’s demands came to feel like an uphill battle. “If you’re going to go out for Friday prayers, if you’re not drinking, it’s like trying to box with one of your hands tied behind your back,” he said.

STILL, for the Muppies and other Muslims hoping to make it on Wall Street, the fight carries on. The goal, they say, is to be so good at their jobs that bosses and colleagues come to think of each as just another hard worker.

“Wall Street is basically blind to religion,” said Mr. Siddiqui at Thomson Reuters. “What it’s concerned about is deal flow, assets under management and transactions.”

Mr. Malik, the former Citigroup trader, said it another way: “You could be worshiping Satan. As long as you’re making money, they’re happy.”

SOURCE: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/15/business/muslims-on-wall-street-bridging-two-traditions.html

Friday, April 13, 2012

The real criminals in the Tarek Mehanna case

By Glenn Greenwald
Salon.com
13 April 2012


In one of the most egregious violations of the First Amendment’s guarantee of free speech seen in quite some time, Tarek Mehanna, an American Muslim, was convicted this week in a federal court in Boston and then sentenced yesterday to 17 years in prison. He was found guilty of supporting Al Qaeda (by virtue of translating Terrorists’ documents into English and expressing “sympathetic views” to the group) as well as conspiring to “murder” U.S. soldiers in Iraq (i.e., to wage war against an invading army perpetrating an aggressive attack on a Muslim nation). I’m still traveling and don’t have much time today to write about the case itself — Adam Serwer several months ago wrote an excellent summary of why the prosecution of Mehanna is such an odious threat to free speech and more background on the case is here, and I’ve written before about the growing criminalization of free speech under the Bush and Obama DOJs, whereby Muslims are prosecuted for their plainly protected political views — but I urge everyone to read something quite amazing: Mehanna’s incredibly eloquent, thoughtful statement at his sentencing hearing, before being given a 17-year prison term.
At some point in the future, I believe history will be quite clear about who the actual criminals are in this case: not Mehanna, but rather the architects of the policies he felt compelled to battle and the entities that have conspired to consign him to a cage for two decades:

________________________

TAREK’S SENTENCING STATEMENT
APRIL 12, 2012

Read to Judge O’Toole during his sentencing, April 12th 2012.

In the name of God the most gracious the most merciful Exactly four years ago this month I was finishing my work shift at a
local hospital. As I was walking to my car I was approached by two federal agents. They said that I had a choice to make: I could do things the easy way, or I could do them the hard way. The “easy ” way, as they explained, was that I would become an informant for the government, and if I did so I would never see the inside of a courtroom or a prison cell. As for the hard way, this is it. Here I
am, having spent the majority of the four years since then in a solitary cell the size of a small closet, in which I am locked down
for 23 hours each day. The FBI and these prosecutors worked very hard-and the government spent millions of tax dollars – to put me in that cell, keep me there, put me on trial, and finally to have me stand here before you today to be sentenced to even more time in a cell.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, many people have offered suggestions as to what I should say to you. Some said I should plead for mercy in hopes of a light sentence, while others suggested I would be hit hard either way. But what I want to do is just talk about myself for a few minutes.

When I refused to become an informant, the government responded by charging me with the “crime” of supporting the mujahideen fighting the occupation of Muslim countries around the world. Or as they like to call them, “terrorists.” I wasn’t born in a Muslim country, though. I was born and raised right here in America and this angers many people: how is it that I can be an American and believe the things I believe, take the positions I take? Everything a man is exposed to in his environment becomes an ingredient that shapes his outlook, and I’m no different. So, in more ways than one, it’s because of America that I am who I am.

When I was six, I began putting together a massive collection of comic books. Batman implanted a concept in my mind, introduced me to a paradigm as to how the world is set up: that there are oppressors, there are the oppressed, and there are those who step up to defend the oppressed. This resonated with me so much that throughout the rest of my childhood, I gravitated towards any book that reflected that paradigm – Uncle Tom’s Cabin, The Autobiography of Malcolm X, and I even saw an ehical dimension to The Catcher in the Rye.

By the time I began high school and took a real history class, I was learning just how real that paradigm is in the world. I learned about the Native Americans and what befell them at the hands of European settlers. I learned about how the descendents of those European settlers were in turn oppressed under the tyranny of King George III.

I read about Paul Revere, Tom Paine, and how Americans began an armed insurgency against British forces – an insurgency we now celebrate as the American revolutionary war. As a kid I even went on school field trips just blocks away from where we sit now. I learned about Harriet Tubman, Nat Turner, John Brown, and the fight against slavery in this country. I learned about Emma Goldman, Eugene Debs, and the struggles of the labor unions, working class, and poor. I learned about Anne Frank, the Nazis, and how they persecuted minorities and imprisoned dissidents. I learned about Rosa Parks, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King,
and the civil rights struggle.

I learned about Ho Chi Minh, and how the Vietnamese fought for decades to liberate themselves from one invader after another. I learned about Nelson Mandela and the fight against apartheid in South Africa. Everything I learned in those years confirmed what I was beginning to learn when I was six: that throughout history, there has been a constant struggle between the oppressed and their oppressors. With each struggle I learned about, I found myself consistently siding with the oppressed, and consistently respecting those who stepped up to defend them -regardless of nationality, regardless of religion. And I never threw my class notes away. As I stand here speaking, they are in a neat pile in my bedroom closet at home.

From all the historical figures I learned about, one stood out above the rest. I was impressed be many things about Malcolm X, but above all, I was fascinated by the idea of transformation, his transformation. I don’t know if you’ve seen the movie “X” by Spike Lee, it’s over three and a half hours long, and the Malcolm at the beginning is different from the Malcolm at the end. He starts off as an illiterate criminal, but ends up a husband, a father, a protective and eloquent leader for his people, a disciplined Muslim performing the Hajj in Makkah, and finally, a martyr. Malcolm’s life taught me that Islam is not something inherited; it’s not a culture or ethnicity. It’s a way of life, a state of mind anyone can choose no matter where they come from or how they were raised.

This led me to look deeper into Islam, and I was hooked. I was just a teenager, but Islam answered the question that the greatest scientific minds were clueless about, the question that drives the rich & famous to depression and suicide from being unable to answer: what is the purpose of life? Why do we exist in this Universe? But it also answered the question of how we’re supposed to exist. And since there’s no hierarchy or priesthood, I could directly and immediately begin digging into the texts of the Qur’an and the teachings of Prophet Muhammad, to begin the journey of understanding what this was all about, the implications of Islam for me as a human being, as an individual, for the people around me, for the world; and the more I learned, the more I valued Islam like a piece of gold. This was when I was a teen, but even today, despite the pressures of the last few years, I stand here before you, and everyone else in this courtroom, as a very proud Muslim.

With that, my attention turned to what was happening to other Muslims in different parts of the world. And everywhere I looked, I saw the powers that be trying to destroy what I loved. I learned what the Soviets had done to the Muslims of Afghanistan. I learned what the Serbs had done to the Muslims of Bosnia. I learned what the Russians were doing to the Muslims of Chechnya. I learned what Israel had done in Lebanon – and what it continues to do in Palestine – with the full backing of the United States. And I learned what America itself was doing to Muslims. I learned about the Gulf War, and the depleted uranium bombs that killed thousands and caused cancer rates to skyrocket across Iraq.

I learned about the American-led sanctions that prevented food, medicine, and medical equipment from entering Iraq, and how – according to the United Nations – over half a million children perished as a result. I remember a clip from a ’60 Minutes‘ interview of Madeline Albright where she expressed her view that these dead children were “worth it.” I watched on September 11th as a group of people felt driven to hijack airplanes and fly them into buildings from their outrage at the deaths of these children. I watched as America then attacked and invaded Iraq directly. I saw the effects of ’Shock & Awe’ in the opening day of the invasion – the children in hospital wards with shrapnel from American missiles sticking but of their foreheads (of course, none of this was shown on CNN).

I learned about the town of Haditha, where 24 Muslims – including a 76-year old man in a wheelchair, women, and even toddlers – were shot up and blown up in their bedclothes as the slept by US Marines. I learned about Abeer al-Janabi, a fourteen-year old Iraqi girl gang-raped by five American soldiers, who then shot her and her family in the head, then set fire to their corpses. I just want to point out, as you can see, Muslim women don’t even show their hair to unrelated men. So try to imagine this young girl from a conservative village with her dress torn off, being sexually assaulted by not one, not two, not three, not four, but five soldiers. Even today, as I sit in my jail cell, I read about the drone strikes which continue to kill Muslims daily in places like Pakistan, Somalia, and Yemen. Just last month, we all heard about the seventeen Afghan Muslims – mostly mothers and their kids – shot to death by an American soldier, who also set fire to their corpses.

These are just the stories that make it to the headlines, but one of the first concepts I learned in Islam is that of loyalty, of
brotherhood – that each Muslim woman is my sister, each man is my brother, and together, we are one large body who must protect each other. In other words, I couldn’t see these things beings done to my brothers & sisters – including by America – and remain neutral. My sympathy for the oppressed continued, but was now more personal, as was my respect for those defending them.

I mentioned Paul Revere – when he went on his midnight ride, it was for the purpose of warning the people that the British were marching to Lexington to arrest Sam Adams and John Hancock, then on to Concord to confiscate the weapons stored there by the Minuteman. By the time they got to Concord, they found the Minuteman waiting for them, weapons in hand. They fired at the British, fought them, and beat them. From that battle came the American Revolution. There’s an Arabic word to describe what those Minutemen did that day. That word is: JIHAD, and this is what my trial was about.

All those videos and translations and childish bickering over ‘Oh, he translated this paragraph’ and ‘Oh, he edited that sentence,’ and all those exhibits revolved around a single issue: Muslims who were defending themselves against American soldiers doing to them exactly what the British did to America. It was made crystal clear at trial that I never, ever plotted to “kill Americans” at shopping malls or whatever the story was. The government’s own witnesses contradicted this claim, and we put expert after expert up on that stand, who spent hours dissecting my every written word, who explained my beliefs. Further, when I was free, the government sent an undercover agent to prod me into one of their little “terror plots,” but I refused to participate. Mysteriously, however, the jury never heard this.

So, this trial was not about my position on Muslims killing American civilians. It was about my position on Americans killing Muslim civilians, which is that Muslims should defend their lands from foreign invaders – Soviets, Americans, or Martians. This is what I believe. It’s what I’ve always believed, and what I will always believe. This is not terrorism, and it’s not extremism. It’s what the arrows on that seal above your head represent: defense of the homeland. So, I disagree with my lawyers when they say that you don’t have to agree with my beliefs – no. Anyone with commonsense and humanity has no choice but to agree with me. If someone breaks into your home to rob you and harm your family, logic dictates that you do whatever it takes to expel that invader from your home.

But when that home is a Muslim land, and that invader is the US military, for some reason the standards suddenly change. Common sense is renamed ”terrorism” and the people defending themselves against those who come to kill them from across the ocean become “the terrorists” who are ”killing Americans.” The mentality that America was victimized with when British soldiers walked these streets 2 ½ centuries ago is the same mentality Muslims are victimized by as American soldiers walk their streets today. It’s the mentality of colonialism.

When Sgt. Bales shot those Afghans to death last month, all of the focus in the media was on him-his life, his stress, his PTSD, the mortgage on his home-as if he was the victim. Very little sympathy was expressed for the people he actually killed, as if they’re not real, they’re not humans. Unfortunately, this mentality trickles down to everyone in society, whether or not they realize it. Even with my lawyers, it took nearly two years of discussing, explaining, and clarifying before they were finally able to think outside the box and at least ostensibly accept the logic in what I was saying. Two years! If it took that long for people so intelligent, whose job it is to defend me, to de-program themselves, then to throw me in front of a randomly selected jury under the premise that they’re my “impartial peers,” I mean, come on. I wasn’t tried before a jury of my peers because with the mentality gripping America today, I have no peers. Counting on this fact, the government prosecuted me – not because they needed to, but simply because they could.

I learned one more thing in history class: America has historically supported the most unjust policies against its minorities – practices that were even protected by the law – only to look back later and ask: ’what were we thinking?’ Slavery, Jim Crow, the internment of the Japanese during World War II – each was widely accepted by American society, each was defended by the Supreme Court. But as time passed and America changed, both people and courts looked back and asked ’What were we thinking?’ Nelson Mandela was considered a terrorist by the South African government, and given a life sentence. But time passed, the world changed, they realized how oppressive their policies were, that it was not he who was the terrorist, and they released him from prison. He even became president. So, everything is subjective - even this whole business of “terrorism” and who is a “terrorist.” It all depends on the time and place and who the superpower happens to be at the moment.

In your eyes, I’m a terrorist, and it’s perfectly reasonable that I be standing here in an orange jumpsuit. But one day, America will change and people will recognize this day for what it is. They will look at how hundreds of thousands of Muslims were killed and maimed by the US military in foreign countries, yet somehow I’m the one going to prison for “conspiring to kill and maim” in those countries – because I support the Mujahidin defending those people. They will look back on how the government spent millions of dollars to imprison me as a ”terrorist,” yet if we were to somehow bring Abeer al-Janabi back to life in the moment she was being gang-raped by your soldiers, to put her on that witness stand and ask her who the “terrorists” are, she sure wouldn’t be pointing at me.

The government says that I was obsessed with violence, obsessed with ”killing Americans.” But, as a Muslim living in these times, I can think of a lie no more ironic.

-Tarek Mehanna
4/12/12

SOURCE: http://www.salon.com/2012/04/13/the_real_criminals_in_the_tarek_mehanna_case/