The Prime Minister speaks of an "apocalyptic death cult". He deploys Australian military forces into combat against Islamic fundamentalists. A debate washes around about banning the wearing of burqas in Parliament House. Which means now is a good time to remember that there is no pressing threat to Australian national security presented by Muslims.
By way of context, more than 14,000
people have been killed on Australia's roads over the past decade. Thousands
more have been seriously injured. The economic cost of road crashes is an
estimated $27 billion a year, according to the Department of Infrastructure.
Yet there is no national threat presented by motor vehicles, nor any national
debate about these costs. Australia accepts the costs as the price of a modern
society.
So when I see or hear the concept of Muslims being
discussed, a cascade of personal experiences flickers instantly, overlaying the
news stories I digest. I think of Jack, Fenny and Chas, young Indonesians who
live in Sydney. The thoughtfulness they have shown me has been exceptional. All
of them are Muslims. I'm hoping they will stay in Australia after they
graduate. The country would be better off with them than without them.
I think of my car blowing a tyre on a desert highway in
Dubai, and the furnace-like conditions when I opened the door, and the
shimmering, unsettling heat of the landscape. As I was trying, and failing, to
get the very tight bolts off the wheel, a passing driver pulled over and got
the tyre off for me. It was hard work in oppressive conditions. He was a
plumber from Pakistan. A Muslim. A stranger who stopped to help a stranger.
I think of visiting the magnificent Suleymaniye Mosque
in Istanbul, and seeing a young mullah go inside the base of a minaret to sing
the call to prayer over loudspeakers. He invited my wife and I to watch. Then
he took us up, and up, and up the stairs to the third and highest balcony near
the top of the minaret. All of this was closed to the public, for obvious
safety reasons. The view of Istanbul from this balcony was never to be
forgotten. The young mullah was a delight.
I think of the accountant who used to stop by my desk for a
visit most days when we worked together. Her recurring theme was the difficulty
of finding a boyfriend. Her parents, Lebanese Muslims, had placed so many
restrictions on who she could see and she found the Lebanese men she was
meeting expected a level of subservience she was not willing to give. She was
caught between two cultures, and trying to make them mesh.
All of which merely hints at the infinite complexity of the
Muslim world. There is no Muslim monolith, just an endless pattern of nuance
and difference. Like the words "Christian", or
"Aboriginal", or "gay", or "feminist", terms
often deployed with an implication of a dominant consensus, when the reality is
far more complex.
At the rabid fringes of society, some Muslims are going to
be harassed in Australia simply for being Muslim. Some Muslims are going to
lend support to the Islamic State. Murder may even be committed in the name of
Islam by people who present their violent rage as some sacred duty.
Last week, this column put the argument that only about 1
per cent of a society needs to take up arms against their fellow citizens to
wrest control of power. In the past century, violent revolutions in Europe,
Asia and Iran have seen the 1 per cent rule apply, followed by the rule of the
gun.
It is happening again in the Middle East, across a broad
arc of violent instability that traverses Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq,
Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, Yemen, Libya, Nigeria, Chad, Mali and Algeria. The
common denominator is Islamic fundamentalism, which presents an obvious
problem. But this does not turn the majority of these Muslim populations into
militant Islamists. Those who must carry the burden of repression should not
also be blamed for it.
No comments:
Post a Comment