On Mosques, Burnings, and the Past

Today marks the ninth anniversary of the new definition of America. Having grown up as a pre-9/11 American--and now dealing with students who only remember a post-9/11 country--I have a mixture of feelings about what's going on in the nation these days. Obviously, we've got divisiveness. Partisan politics insist on rewriting definitions of what it means to be American, a top-down (corporations and news punditry also count as power-brokers and are party to the "top" label) approach that should nauseate most logic-leaning thinkers. We long have been taught in an overarching black and white binary that insists on absolutes in most everything, a poison we assume to be natural. While absolutes absolutely exist (for categorically denying them is an irresolvable paradox), I fear that what is viewed as 'traditional' or 'natural' is actually a distortion. One thing that I truly dislike is being lied to.* I am aware, for example, of some of the less-savory aspects of the history of the Church. This does not break my testimony or make me deny what I know. Instead, I have a fuller picture of what is real, and that is much more important than preserving an illusion of infallibility.

As I have been considering the idea of America and freedoms, I'm reminded of the 11^th Article of Faith, the one that preaches tolerance of others' points of view. In light of that particular doctrine, I have a very difficult time swallowing the rhetoric and arguments that have swirled around two important news topics in the last couple of weeks: The Cordoba Initiative and the Burn A Koran Day in Florida.

Plan51

This should be allowed to happen as an indication that what we as a country stand for cannot be intimidated or repressed. Newt Gingrich has famously said that, because Saudi Arabia doesn't have a single church or synagogue, the rest of the world can't talk to the U.S. about religious tolerance. Unfortunately, in his attempt to deify our country, he committed an egregious fallacy that, I fear, has been perpetuated by all the usual suspects, verifying (yet again) that a lie told often enough eventually is believed to be true, even by the one who says it. That America is most emphatically not Saudi Arabia should be abundantly clear. That is the entire point. America can withstand differences, even in places most desperately injured.

Additional problems with the protest and the claims that it is hallowed ground: Yes, the Burlington Coat Factory was struck by debris from one of the planes. Much of that area suffered physical scars from that atrocity nine years ago. Many of those places are now porn shops and strip clubs. Why is it that people are opposed to a place that seeks to provide people--Muslims predominantly, but the cultural center has plans for an entire community involvement and uses--with a place where they can worship God? In this, Orrin Hatch and I agree: The center should be built. That it will be more open than an LDS temple to the people of the city, as well as being a stalwart reminder that people of all faiths died on that day--even, one could argue, that it is a reclaiming by the rightful people of a religion that was hijacked on 11 Sept 2001 just as surely as those planes were--makes it all the more important as a symbol of communal inclusiveness.

Some people have twisted the argument to allow that building the community center so close to Ground Zero is tantamount to the Church putting up a temple near the Mountain Meadows Massacre. This truly puzzles me, as a temple is exclusively for one form of worship, open only to recommend-holding members; a more obvious parallel would be a chapel that hosts community events that all may attend. There are some major problems with this argument, aside from just the incompatibility of comparing the Cordoba Initiative to a temple, however. First of all, Brigham Young and the leaders of the Church, according to Church records, specifically sent word to do no such terrorism on that fateful September 11 in 1857. The letter arrived too late, much to the sadness and shame of all involved.

Because Islam has no such central authority (there's enough difficulty with the Shia/Suni split already), the events of the 21^st century's September 11 massacre becomes a shaky parallel. Yes, religious zealotry resulted in the deaths of many people. However, there are important differences: The Mountain Meadows Massacre was done as a preemptive strike (aren't those horrible things?) against a falsely perceived threat. The action came from people who had recently emigrated from the United States (only to have the Utah Territory switch over from Mexico to the country they had just fled) and saw the situation as an invasion of their sovereignty and safety. In essence, the Massacre was done out of fear and in an attempt to protect the community at large. It was religiously fueled, but not religiously inspired.

Not so of the madmen of September 11, 2001. These calculating men trained, plotted, planned, and heartlessly murdered over 3,000 people through all four attacks. This was done as religious zealotry via a fractured group intent on declaring war on America, disrupting our way of life, destroying our economy, and forcing us to live in fear. (It should be noted that, in a twisted irony on President Bush's battleship banner, Al-Qaeda can claim a 'mission accomplished'.**) They woke up that morning eager to die in order to shed innocent blood; personal piety and extremism drove them to their acts.

For the Massacre to be comparable, we need to modify the entire premise. Instead of being frightened Mormons striking out against a misinterpreted foe, it needs to be a splinter group, known for its radical or fundamental interpretations of the religion's keystone text. If, say, the FLDS had killed those people in a specific, calculated attempt to strike fear into the hearts of both Jew and Gentile, fighting under the banner of their (usurped) religion of Mormonism, and done so in a blatant attempt to stir up hostility and promote bloodshed in the world, then yes, the two September 11s can compare.

And if that were to happen, should not the true Mormon Church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, stand up against the broad-stroke painting of them by opponents? Wouldn't the best way to demonstrate that the LDS Church is not a fundamental, radical, or violent religion be to provide a memorial to those victims who suffered at the hands of religious hijackers? Wouldn't the best way to show solidarity to the country in which the terror occurred be to create a building that could service the community at large, extending an anxious and sincere hand of friendship to all? Wouldn't the best way to begin repairing the divides that some mislead souls had created be to open up and explain that They are not We? Would it be 'tasteless' or 'in bad form' for the most injured party--the religion--to prove that she truly had nothing to do with the atrocities done in her name?

It might be considered as splitting hairs to insist on these fine delineations, but I feel that a refusal to take things on their most meaningful terms is precisely what's wrong with the dialogue in this country right now. We have to take in to consideration all of the factors and avoid these absolutes that insist that one thing is like the other, when really there is only a superficial, prima facie similarity. There is a reason why we can differentiate between colors, and not all hues' values are the same.

Burning Books

Aside from a visceral, personal revulsion to the mere idea of burning a book because its ideas conflict with my own (or destroying a book at all), the recent hullabaloo about the Gainesville pastor, Terry Jones, is overwrought and ultimately pointless. There are two comments most frequently stated: "He's got a right to do it, but it's not a good idea," and, "It will endanger Americans abroad.

First of all, the man's right to do so was never in question. In this (and, so far as I can see, in this alone) he is in the same camp as the Cordoba Initiative. Both have the right to worship 'how, what, or where they may.' But the Cordoba Initiative isn't about First Amendment rights. It isn't about rights at all. It's about the need of a religion to have a place big enough to hold its congregation (as the mosque that's only four blocks away from the site is much too small to accommodate the numbers who wish to attend Friday prayer services), while simultaneously performing all of the actions that I outlined above.

Terry Jones' right to burn books--holy or otherwise--is irrelevant. If he has the right to preach from one book, he has the right to burn another. We can even table the arguments that book-burnings are famously indicative of totalitarian thought and oppressive regimes, as his ironically named church, Dove World Outreach Center, is not poised to become anything more than one of thousands of derivative non-denominational religions. Its similarities to Nazism would be alarming only to those with Nazi Tourettes (I'm looking at you, Beck) or those who are too polarized to pay attention to what is going on here.

Secondly, the endangerment of Americans abroad has little to do with book burnings. It has to do with invasions of sovereign countries, manipulation of regimes in order to maintain control on oil, and befriending the least popular kid in the neighborhood (Israel). It has to do with decades of American meddling. There is, as Glenn Beck (and Imam Rauf) said not too long ago, an obvious reason why we were attacked: We had our nose in their business. If we had been suffering similar types of ignominies here in America, we probably wouldn't need much in the way of persuasion to retaliate against our perceived enemies. The Islamic world has secular as well as sectarian reasons for their feelings toward America, and the burning of the Koran would be pretense, predominantly.

It should probably be noted, however, that giving those already predisposed toward animosity another reason to justify their hate is lacking in logic. I feel sadness, rather than rage, when I see people in other countries burning our flag--the holy symbol of a secular society--but it does not urge me toward violence. However, if I were looking for a way of faulting others' beliefs and justifying my hatred toward them, flag-burning would probably serve conveniently for 'proof' of all the negative things I felt towards the people. So, in a sense, the book-burning could cause an additional backlash against America, despite what I'm arguing in the preceding paragraph. Its severity, of course, is impossible to determine.

What I think is actually germane in this argument is the idea of whether or not we can tolerate this sort of behavior. No one but Jones should stop Jones (as of this writing, however, he seems to believe that he has stopped the Cordoba Initiative from going forward, though there are reports conflicting this expectation by the pastor). We as Americans can do something like this. But there are two points that I would like to observe that have to be considered along with this issue.

1. 
   
   
   Christians the country over should be prepared to denounce this sort of intolerance daily. After all, it is a Christian group. It would be the pinnacle of hypocrisy if Americans demanded that every Muslims that speaks openly denounces the acts of 9/11, yet at the same time Christians refuse to openly denounce overt acts of hatred and bigotry, which this book-burning most certainly is. I heard a Muslim on the radio not too long ago (when the irrelevant statistic of 1 in 5 Americans prefers to believe that Obama is a Muslim than that he is a Christian***) that he has practically been forced to denounce radical Islam daily since 9/11. He was born in America, he doesn't speak Arabic, and is a practicing Muslim. He, like many of the soldiers in our Armed Forces, belongs to the same general religion as Al-Qaeda, and he has to defend his beliefs and assure others that he is not one of 'them'. Christians, therefore, must be under that same pressure. When we say we're Christian, we must quickly assure our audience that we aren't the book-burning kinds. We aren't interested in destroying other religions or other peoples; we're merely here to share our message of the Savior and His redeeming love. If we insist that our Muslim brethren and fellow citizens denounce the worst in their religion in all times and in all places, we must be ready for the same. We should be surprised, I think, if we are not constantly defending the precepts of Christianity as being peaceful and loving, even if fringe, radical groups prefer to revel in war and hatred.
2. Assaulting the Koran is assaulting Islam; Islam, however, is not--nor ever has been--our enemy: Terrorism is. President George W. Bush frequently and specifically mentioned that the enemy was not Islam but terrorism. The bizarrely named 'war on terror', though an impossible declaration, does, in no way, need to imply that those who espouse Islam are also those who espouse terror as a valid form of worship. Yet we constantly misconstrue the issue. There is video footage of protesters against Plan51 who are seen heckling a man they believe is Muslim. It turns out, the man--who is black--is actually a construction worker for the long-delayed memorial on Ground Zero. This, I believe, points to what the issue is with a war on terror. Terror doesn't have a face. Islam, however, does. And this accidental misconstruing is part of the problem. We are committed to combating terrorism, not Islam. We cannot have a free country in which we suspect Muslim-Americans simply because they 'look like terrorists.' It is of vital importance to the fabric of American decency that we begin to recognize that it is not a nation or a religion that we fight--it is those who hate what America is and can be.
   

The Past to the Future

In order to best remember the past, it has to matter in the present. September 11 still matters. It should always matter. It should never be used to galvanize a political policy or incite a nationalistic fervor that seeks to harm others in the name of the land in which one happened to be born. September 11^th shouldn't be a rallying cry to violence, but instead a reflection on what we would want our world to be. It is a time to remember that there are those who do evil in the world, and though we must be vigilant against further atrocities, we must not be the ones doing those atrocities. This quote springs to mind:

“Cattle die and kindred die. We also die. But I know one thing that never dies: Judgment on each one dead.” —Elder Edda

At this ninth anniversary, I hope that such judgment ever remain in the hands of the Just Judged of the quick and the dead, and that we not live in such a way that we have to use September 11^th as a false justification for any of our sins--both as a nation and individually. My hope for this solemn day of remembrance is that we take a negative and make it into a positive; that we not let the actions of malicious few define the good that we will do; that the terrorists' goals of destroying America fail because we refuse to participate in the implosion; that we learn and love all men; that we take the Lord's commandment, issued in Doctrine and Covenants 64 on September 11^th, 1831 to 'forgive all men'--even those who have done the absolute worst to us.

I hope that I can be strong enough to do this, too.

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*Part of the vitriol I have toward the prior presidential administration is the fact that they lied--I voted for Bush in '04 in good faith, and I feel that was misplaced. I'm willing to give Obama a chance, though I assume that, like all politicians, he's merely a disappointment in a different flavor. While infinitely better than the alternative we were offered (You betcha!) back in November '08, I already feel let down by reality. A more clear-thinking me would have realized that, even though Obama has kept over 120 campaign promises (as opposed to the 22 he's broken and 39 on which he compromised), he would not be able to deliver on what he claimed he would. In some ways that's good--I'm not a fan of abortion being included as a part of the health care overhaul bill--but in other ways it's simply sad.

**I will readily admit that the 9/11 attacks and the eventual recession are not necessarily anything more than casually (rather than causally) linked. I do not declare that this recession is an outgrowth of the attacks at all. After all, in terms of history, it was time for another big bust to arrive. But we have to wonder: Would the world's finances be different if Bush had not had the Iraq and Afghanistan wars to bludgeon the voters with in 2004? Perhaps we would have had another 1 term Bush, and new fiscal policies would have been set. Had we not been attacked, we would have saved a massive amount of money on our military budget, that much is certain. Those thousands dead in the war would have remained at home, some of whom may have gone on to creating new jobs, technologies, and enterprises, some of which may have helped our country through economic difficulties. But all of this is supposition; we'll never know how it could have been--perhaps this is the best of all possible outcomes?
Let's hope not.

***Obama is a Christian, just as he's an American citizen, born in Hawaii. That he isn't a preferred kind of Christian, or not a Christian according to one pastor or another, is an entirely different debate. Intriguingly, Mormons and Obama are in the same camp: We say we're Christians, but few of our Christian brethren seem willing to accept that.