Dear Lulu,
Going on a holiday; that is how the meeting of the rucksack-ed-five appeared on CCTV. Light hearted, almost jocular- “I thought you had the sun screen” - “I thought you had the sunscreen”…right before they blew themselves into heaven – or more likely, hell. In a bizarre twist, the bombsites were created in the sign of the cross. North, south, east, west; a genuflection in the name of Allah. A special needs teacher, who was kind to children and held in high esteem, who married for love, whose mother-in-law is an outspoken advocate of working women - so admired she had been invited to a Buckingham Palace garden party to honour her; a lover of cricket who dressed in trainers and designer tracksuits whose desperate mother reported him missing after the bombing; a Jamaican convert who seemed to be a very soft character who liked to play with children at the mosque, married to an Englishwoman eight months pregnant with their second child. Who would have thought? Apparently no one who knew them. Apparently no one knew them.
Only in America: Washington-based Brit Hume said the shivers going through the financial futures markets made it “a good time to buy.” Coffins? For a Fox/Murdoch news presenter, Brian Kilmeade, the attacks had moved terrorism back on the agenda, away from Africa, which was good for the Western world. Mr ‘Kil-me’ apparently finds the imminent starvation of 3.5 million people in Niger a back page item. The New York Times copied Europe and called the city ‘Londonistan’ and alleged that an obliging government allows Muslim plotters to conspire freely and manufacture their deadly weapons. The 12,000 US Air Force personnel based in Britain were ordered to stay where it was safe - with the Americans, and not travel to London (as if they would). A pox on all your houses.
And only from America: as reported by Paul Vallely in The Independent; the hordes of journalists from major American TV networks, Washington and New York newspapers seemed determined to view 7/7 as the sequel to 9/11. ”So what are you going to do about the radical element in your community?” asked an American reporter. ”I can honestly say,” said Hanif Malik, the Muslim community leader chairing the event, “as a lifelong resident of Leeds, and someone fairly active in the Muslim community, that I’ve never come across any of these radical elements whatsoever.” “Believe me, these people are there” said another US journalist.” “There are radicals,” said another reporter, “we know that.” “Those of us who live here don’t,” responded Malik. Vallely writes: “Quite how journalists with a two-day acquaintance with a place can purport to know better than someone who has lived there for 40 years is one of the mysteries of contemporary journalism. What struck me was the sheer ordinariness of the place and the extent to which cultures live together with unremarkable normality.”
In London’s Evening Standard, Imran Khan, former BBC journalist specialising in covering terrorism and Islam has known Faisal for four years; the epitome of young London, a representative of the mindset of young radicals. His credibility: born in the East End, 26, computer graduate, Pakistani and Muslim. “I sometimes wish I was not buzdil – a coward - and that God would give me the strength to give my life to him in an honourable way.” He blames the bombings on Britain’s lack of interest in young Pakistanis. They are often at the lowest of all social indicators: education, housing, economic power. Pakistanis feel they have been misunderstood. His view is that they have none of the glamour of Indian culture, none of the style of the African-Caribbean community. They strive for an identity they can be proud of. “Muslims see the murder of Palestinians, violence in Chechnya, Iraq, etc, and they feel that pain and that pain becomes anger…we feel the need to fight back…martyrs in Palestine are heroes and who doesn’t want to be a hero?”
The Koranic term the ‘ummah’ refers to a feeling, brotherhood and destiny that supersedes Britishness. Now the feeling is of collective persecution. The desire to totally surrender to a sense of belonging, to an all-encompassing devotion, to an ecstatic state especially in youth is hardly difficult to comprehend. Think of Rashneesh, Sai Baba and all the other ubiquitous gurus with devotees ready to die for them; gurus without a cause. Religious literalism distorts devotion. Think of right-wing fanatics in the US who kill doctors willing to perform abortions. Religion used as a political tool of power. Think of Greek Orthodox priests surreptitiously orchestrating the massive massacres of Serbs. Fundamentalism is inherently blind and truly archaic. It is a denial of reality. When the mask cracks, revealing self-doubt, action must be taken to assuage the deep sense of fear burying feelings of worthlessness and alienation. Terrorism is an act of abject selfishness. When someone is willing to plunge their loved ones into panic, shock, pain, agony and loss; the very same who loved and supported them; there is only the thought of some sort of self-satisfaction and personal paradise. In The Little Oxford Dictionary funeral, funerary, funereal follow the definition of fundamentalism.
An Algerian
undercover agent who spied on militant Muslims in London for MI5: “The
cleric was a fiery orator…who would sit with young British Muslims…recruited
by staff…the message was all about jihad killing and going to paradise.
They would be asked: ‘How long are you going to live – 60, 70, 80 years?
Then you die and go to hell. But you should think about eternal life. To
go to paradise you have to use a sword, meaning you have to kill in the
name of Allah.’ This brainwashing was so incessant that had I not been
so strongly opposed to them, I would have become a terrorist myself.” His
dire warnings were ignored…obviously.
TTFN, Maggie
Past
Letters
Foot in Mouth Disease - 22 February
And the Award Goes To... - 16 February
And the Winner is.... - 25 January
A Matter of Timing - 12 January
Routemaster No More - 28 December
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme - 25 November
Does My Hair Look Big In This? - 6 November