Hope and Prejudice

Talking about hope and prejudice.

One of the best advise I got, was to meet everyone thinking that he/she is on "my side". We all have a switch inside us that cloud our meeting with anyone and anything new. One side of the switch says "my side" and the other says "other side". There are many names for it: higher energies vs lower energies, better-selves vs worse-selves, hope and understanding vs prejudice which is a fear-based reaction.

The switch can be moved consciously or un-consciously, for there is a third setting, called "Open Mind" which is merely to be conscious and unprejudiced. Whether the setting was , I believe that inner switch pretty much define the experience and our world at that moment even before anything happens. Whatever happen in our inner selves determines our outer experience.

I came across this thoughtful, observant and poignant article this morning. Yes, its a story about a short trip but the real journey is through the mirror by which she reflected on her own prejudices and pre-conceptions and those of others. And I quite agree with a lot of her observations about my current little home town (including that of the UN security).

Just looking at our own prejudices is a courageous act that few people care to do, because human conditioning is dominated by the ego working hard to justify our own views and to debunk that of others. That is the original sin of most strains of ethnicism, nationalism and most ideas, I.E. that as we learn more about our place in the world (in otherwords the typical process of growing up) the more we stand isolated, special and unique from others. That is how everyone has prejudices and it is easier said than done to move our 'switch' even as far as "Open Mind". And we need to be vigilant because the moment we are not consciously guarding our "switch" we can get infected by the fears from others around us and from within ourselves. KY's earlier posting about Obama's muslim connection comes to mind, because when you think about it, "Change" should only come from hope, and hope means welcoming a "difference" to the present, and to welcome difference means being keeping the switch to "myside" in the face of troubles.

http://baghdadbureau.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/06/27/america-an-iraqis-first-impressions/


June 27, 2008, 7:34 am
America - An Iraqi’s First Impressions
By Suadad al-Salhy

Suadad al-Salhy is an Iraqi reporter who recently joined The New York Times in Iraq. In May she was one of five Iraqi journalists who visited the United States on a reporting tour organized by the State Department to learn about ‘How America’s Middle East Policy is Formulated.’
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I went to America in May to participate in a reporting tour about American foreign policy in the Middle East. I recorded many personal impressions about that visit, but the important one is that there are dual standards.

In America everybody obeys the law, they do not consider doing anything else. They stand in line when they need to buy something. They obey road instructions, cross the street in the determined area, pay their taxes, and so on, much more than in my country.

By comparison many American soldiers in Iraq have no idea about our laws. Often it seems that they do whatever they want, the same minute. When I ask Americans about this, they say that American soldiers will submit to the rules when they go back to their country. But when they deal with Iraqi people they don’t seem to think about anything. They don’t seem to realize what will happen when they shoot Iraqis or put their sons in jail. Many American soldiers in Iraq don’t seem to stop and ask themselves the rules they needs to know to control their actions.

Ordinary people in America are very kind and cooperative and ready to help you. You do not find that among Arab people. When I needed to know information about the way to a restaurant or some place, they would leave whatever they were doing and stand for 10 minutes making telephone calls for me until they found the information that I wanted. No-one there leaves you without help, even when he has no idea about what you are looking for. Here in Iraq we have no time to do that. Maybe I have two or three minutes for someone, but no more than that.

There are no similarities between American soldiers in Iraq and Americans at home. Which means you cannot prevent yourself from loving them — and hating them too. I can’t understand how Americans are so nice over there, and many of their soldiers are bullies and aggressive.

I think the difference is maybe because of the stress. People in America are very relaxed. Here, they deal with many Iraqi people as an enemy. Their reactions are very fast, they often don’t stop to decide: “Are you an enemy or a friend?” All the time they deal with Iraqis people as enemies or threats.

Most ordinary American people who we met on our visit had no idea about what is happening in Iraq. All they know is that “it is hot”. That’s all. I expected them at least to know something about where their soldiers are now living.

If my country had soldiers living somewhere I would need to know where they were going and what they were doing there. And when they were coming back.

Actually that surprised me, But there is another thing which surprised me more than that. Poor people in America are more interested than the rich ones to know about the conditions of life in Iraq. They asked me how we are living there, how we are dealing with our security problems and what we are thinking about the future.

We met many American journalists and they always asked: “Do you expect any change in American foreign policy in Iraq after the American election?” And our answer was always “No.”

This is from my experience. As an adult I lived with the foreign policy of George Bush I and then Clinton and then George Bush II. There was no change. George Bush I always dealt with Iraq as a threat. When we went into the Clinton administration we didn’t feel much difference with the pressure on Iraq, but it became slow and more quiet. Bush II went quickly into the hell hole and he took us with him.

In Washington D.C. particularly, people are very interested in themselves and their clothes. I did not expect that. Maybe because the American people who I met in Iraq were not well-dressed. And they looked terrible.

I liked New York more than Washington D.C., Virginia and Michigan. I felt it is a warmer city, the people, buildings, streets are more friendly. I thought there are no borders between you and other people in New York. I felt I could deal with them, I could talk to them. I did not feel a stranger. When I spoke to them in New York I was even released from fear about the weakness of my language. Maybe because everybody there has the same problem.

I missed that feeling in Washington. Everyone in my group thought this. I thought the high buildings in New York would scare me. Actually nothing happened like that, I loved everything there. I spent my time walking and walking and walking. I am falling in love with the Central Park garden, the Broadway street and the Times Square. I thought these places were representative of New York’s pulse more than the Freedom Statue.

I am veiled. To get from Iraq to America I had to fly from Baghdad to Jordan to Britain to Washington. There were difficulties at Heathrow and Dulles airports. I faced problems everywhere with security. Every time they asked me to take off my jacket. I refused, and I told the rest of my group that if they insisted I would rather go back to Iraq. So the security guards would send me off to do more searches, X-rays or be searched by women.

They asked me to do the same thing before getting on the ferry to the Freedom Statue and before we entered the statue.

This made me angry, but much more when we went to the United Nations building in New York. They let American women through wearing their jackets without being searched but they asked me. When I refused they asked other people to search me, more than once.

I felt at that time that I would cry. I expected it to be different at the United Nations. Is the U.N. an American building, or for everyone in the world? The security people didn’t know who I was or where I was from. They were just looking at my covered head, that is all.