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CounterPunch
September
12, 2002
A Conversation with My Arab-American
Self
by Tarif Abboushi
America, love it or leave it. I was a Palestinian
teenager at a Quaker boarding school in Lebanon when I first
saw that slogan, and I loved it. The slogan, that is.
Back then I devoured the slices of Americana
dished out by American heroes as diverse as Muhammad Ali and
Mark Spitz, and by American institutions as timeless as Hollywood
and rock `n' roll. The 1968 movie The Graduate delivered the
genius of Simon and Garfunkel while Woodstock wove the wondrous
harmonies of Crosby Stills and Nash. Dirty Harry was the epitome
of cool, Midnight Cowboy cast visions of going where the sun
keeps shining and Easy Rider spun a purple haze of looking for
America and not finding it anywhere.
At the time, I couldn't love America
because I didn't really know it. And I couldn't leave, because
I wasn't here. But against the backdrop of the Vietnam War I
discerned a pallid undertone to "love it or leave it,"
an arrogant rejection of self-criticism that implied it was un-American
to ask "What are we fighting for?" Fast-forward three
decades and the slogan takes on a palatable poignancy, not just
for me -- long since naturalized, and father of children who
know no other homeland -- but for every Arab-American in the
post-9/11 world.
I admit I have fleetingly considered
leaving America since that terrible Tuesday. All of three or
four times, cumulatively for less than a minute. Every time I
inevitably dismissed the notion as unthinkable. Palestine might
be my homeland, but America is home. More importantly, for my
children America is both.
I have traveled repeatedly from sea to
shining sea over the past year, and not once been singled out
because of my name or ethnic origin. Granted, others have fallen
victim to profiling, but the story of the Arab-American pulled
off a plane despite being a Secret Service agent on the presidential
protection detail was offset by another, that of Israeli government
officials denied their seats on flights because they were deemed
a security risk.
Upon my return from a trip to the Middle
East this summer a U.S. immigration officer scrutinized my American
passport, saw the Arabic name, noted that I was born in Syria
and welcomed me home. In 20 years of living and traveling in
the Arab Middle East, no government official ever welcomed me
home.
It is nearly a year since the monstrous
crime against humanity visited upon us last September, and Americans
still grapple with "Why do they hate us?". Those of
us who are also them are most qualified to answer.
The Arab in me has never hated America.
The Arab in me admires and envies, in a non-malicious way, the
freedoms that the American in me takes for granted. Freedom of
thought, of movement, of expression, of religion and of choice.
The Arab in me admires the fact that, by the law of the land
in this nation of immigrants, no American is more American than
any other. What the Arab in me hates -- resents -- are the hypocrisy
and double standards of American foreign policy in the Middle
East.
By my American ideals, the separation
of church and state is the cornerstone of a true democracy. The
Arab in me wonders why it isn't made a prerequisite for any nation
wishing to receive U.S. foreign aid. My Arab self wishes America
would make its support for all corrupt and dictatorial regimes
-- Arab ones included -- contingent on their implementation of
democratic reforms. My Arab self decries our preparedness to
go to war against an Arab country because it rejects one United
Nations resolution, while we extend unconditional financial,
military and diplomatic support for Israel even as it disdainfully
ignores more than 60.
In my Arab-American dream we export not
weapons, but gilded copies of the principles of equality and
individual human rights enshrined in our Constitution. My worst
nightmare intermixes another Osama bin Laden with John Ashcroft's
inane talk of internment camps.
Like other Arab-Americans past and present,
most notably men like Gibran Khalil Gibran, Ralph Nader, Casey
Kasem and Michael DeBakey, I am part of the heterogeneous fabric
of this country. I will not leave. I will stay, contribute and
pursue the dream in America. Precisely because I love it.
Tarif Abboushi
lives in Houston, Texas. he can be reached at tabboushi@aol.com
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September
11, 2002
Anis Shivani
How to
Survive in Ashcroft's America
Pierre Tristam
Abusing
the Sorrows of 9/11
David Krieger
Resisting
Bush's
"Relentless War"
Jerre Skog
9/11 One
Year Later:
Remember the Others, Too
Dave Marsh
Illegal
Music?
A Sampler's Delight
Norm Dixon
How the
Warmongers Have Exploited 9/11
September
7 / 8, 2002
Bill Christison
A
Year Later: It's Happening Here
Alexander
Cockburn
The
Tenth Crusade
Susan Davis
Mr. Ashcroft's
Neighborhood
Bruce Jackson
When
War Came Home
David Krieger
Looking
Back on September 11
Mike Leon
Bush and War
Peter Linebaugh
Levellers
and 9/11
William McDougal
September 11 One Year On:
That's Entertainment!
Riad Z. Abdelkarim
and Jason Erb
How American Muslims Really Responded
to 9/11
Jeffrey St.
Clair
The Trouble
with Normal
Tom Stephens
Rise Up...Dump Bush
September
6, 2002
Jeffrey St.
Clair
Stolen
Trust
Gale Norton, Indians and the Case of the Missing $10 Billion
September
5, 2002
Ben Tripp
Jesus vs.
George the Second
William Hughes
McKinney's
Defeat:
Undue Meddling
Gavin Keeney
Beaux
Reves, Citoyens!
Wayne Saunders
War
Begins; Nobody Notices
Irit Katriel
Drunk
with Power:
Israeli Chief of Staff Calls Palestinians a "Cancerous Demographic
Threat"
Gary Leupp
Who's Afraid
of Iraq?
Resources:
100s of Links
About 9/11
CounterPunch:
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Coverage of 9/11 and Its Aftermath
Five
Days That
Shook The World:
Seattle and Beyond
By
Alexander Cockburn
and Jeffrey St. Clair
Photos by Allan Sekula
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Read
Whiteout and Find Out
How the CIA's Backing of the Mujahideen Created the World's Most
Robust Heroin Market and Helped to Finance the Rise of the Taliban
and Osama bin Laden
Whiteout:
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Press
by Alexander
Cockburn
and Jeffrey St. Clair
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