I am a Jew, and my best friend is Muslim. In middle school, our history teacher asked us how we were able to be friends, given the existential crisis that is Palestine vs. Israel. I was angered by this and quickly lashed back, demanding who he was to question my friendship with my best friend. I am a Jew, and Ahmed is a Muslim; but none of that matters. There is no more to it. I love my Muslim friend for who he is, so why would we base our friendship and judge one another based on our religious beliefs?
In the past few years, Arabs and the Islamic religion have found themselves on the receiving end of obscene amounts of hatred and bigotry. I spent years of my childhood in Hebrew School reading Israeli current events about the most recent Hamas rocket attacks out of Gaza Strip. I felt pain with the families who were affected. I felt disgust and disappointment towards the people who could bring themselves so low as to destroy human life. But I never felt that way towards my friend, more specifically towards the Arabs who were not involved.
It brings me pain to hear friends and their families who believe in Donald Trump’s rhetoric to close mosques and not allow Muslims into the United States. It is beyond upsetting to believe that there are fellow Americans who want to make Arab Americans carry “special IDs” and be objectified by non-Arabs. Being Jewish, I know the feeling of not belonging, of being discriminated and of being falsely accused. For generations, my family and the Jewish community have felt the hatred that Muslims now feel. They are the scapegoats for those in search of an explanation for terrorism. How are we able to sit by and let this atrocity continue? Why are we blaming an entire community for the actions of few? We preach that all lives matter in America, but when it comes to Muslims, all of a sudden their lives…don’t matter? It is a petty and false assumption to say that all Muslims are terrorists. Islam does not preach violence; it does not preach murder or terrorism. In its basic building blocks, Islam asks us to coexist and live together in peace.
My friendship with a Muslim has shaped who I am today. My best friend has opened my eyes to a different way of life; he has allowed me to walk a mile in his shoes. I am grateful for my Muslim friend. We casually and humorously banter back and forth about how if we were in charge of the Middle East, we could easily institute a two-state solution and make everyone get along the way we do. When I look at him, I see him for who and what he is. I see two electric blue eyes, two bronzed arms and legs, a head of dark, curly hair and a radiant smile that shines from one side of his face to the other. I see a handsome figure of a man, an aspiring engineer and a caring friend. I see him practice his beliefs, observing Ramadan, speaking Arabic with his family and annually going to Egypt.
When I look at myself, I see similar features. I see my almond brown eyes, two tanned arms and legs, and long, brown hair. I observe high holidays and attend synagogue, I keep kosher and wear a Star of David necklace. But we do not see religion. Though it is always present, we do not see it. Religion is a belief. I was born Jewish, and he was born Muslim. They’re simply different beliefs and perspectives, and that is okay. He doesn’t question my Star of David, nor does he think less of me because my culture does not suggest that I wear a hijab or a burqa. We have our differences, but in so many ways we are similar. Fasting, for instance, serves as a cleansing of sins and allows for repentance; it also withholds the power of humbling the individual. During a fast, you grow a stronger appreciation for the life and opportunities that you are given. I admire that he is able to fast for the month of Ramadan, while he always tells me how proud he is when I make it through the day of fasting on Yom Kippur. Not to mention, it’s always nice to know I have someone who is willing to get a midnight snack with me.
To my Muslim friend, to the Muslim and Arab communities across the United States and the globe, I am sorry that the media in America has a tendency to negatively portray your lifestyle and beliefs as a target for extremism. What we don’t realize is that hundreds of thousands of Muslims have joined organized, anti-terror groups. If we face reality, all religions have extremism (i.e: the Ku Klux Klan and the Christian Crusades).
The United States, as a country, is advertised as a diverse melting pot, overflowing with different cultures and traditions. Embedded in our American roots is the phrase, “One Nation Under God,” which gives no specification of which God that is. It is our natural right to practice whichever religion we please without being attacked for doing so. When did we become a country that discriminates and degenerates people for what they believe in and where they are from? Aren’t we, after all, the land of free?
