Common U.S. views about Middle East ill-conceived
Jake Brewer
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The shores of Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates. Abu Dhabi is one of the most diverse cities in the world; Jake Brewer spent a great deal of time there studying Middle Eastern culture.
Terror...war...crisis...tyranny...conflict. All of these, and many more, are words that are readily invoked when Americans hear "the Middle East." I am here, however, to offer a different perspective -- one straight from the mouths and experiences of men and women living in the Persian Gulf region. That message is one of peace.
As I examined my surroundings on a January morning several weeks ago, I noticed something extraordinary: I was sitting among people representing 14 different countries and four continent -- and there were only 17 people in the room.
While this struck me as something quite unique, working in such a community was simply day-to-day work for the people there. My purpose was to interview Hassan Al-Hosani, but the information I received that morning extended far beyond any comments he provided. I watched as an Iraqi man worked with a woman from Syria and a man from Iran.
I marveled when a Jordanian man spoke with a Frenchman, who relayed the message to a Venezuelan woman, who then sat down beside a man from Palestine. It was a veritable melting pot of cultures, and it was stunningly beautiful. In the city of Abu Dhabi, on the shores of the United Arab Emirates, it is simply a way of life.
Wedged between the mountains of Oman and the endless sand dunes of Saudi Arabia lies the tiny country of the United Arab Emirates. In this relative infant of a country is a population that is one of the most diverse in the world. Approximately 75 percent of the residents of the U.A.E. were born outside its border; the vast majority of which hail from other Middle Eastern countries. With this in mind, I embarked on a research project that would change my perception of the Middle East forever.
The underlying purpose for my research and interviews was (and is) to foster ongoing dialogue between cultures. In particular, my aim was to connect students in the United States. to the thoughts and ideas of an array of people living in the Persian Gulf.
I entered with an idea of complete acceptance and a desire to deeply understand the people I would encounter. However, what I thought was a novel concept, I quickly learned, was already the basis on which men and women of the U.A.E. were building their relationships, and they were daily connecting their ideas to others from around the globe. Arriving from a nation pervaded by CNN and other news agencies that daily spout off death tolls and depict scenes of destruction, I became fascinated by a culture that seemed solely focused about creating. There was evidence of this in any direction I turned. "We are a nation of peace and acceptance...a culture of peace and acceptance," explained Shamsa Al-Maskari.
Shamsa is a young businesswoman who is native to the U.A.E. All but Shamsa's face and hands are covered by the traditional black Abbaya. This garment is not oppressive for her as I had once suspected -- far from it, in fact. She wears black proudly and independently.
Shamsa explains that women are revered in her culture -- a sentiment reflected by the men that I spoke to as well -- and that the garment is not about hiding, but is liberating by freeing her from the pressures of having to look and dress perfectly as many Western women often feel. Having been educated in the United States,
I asked Shamsa what she thought about the current world climate. Her answer: "I love all people; I love the people of the United States, but it greatly saddens me to watch as its government goes in this direction." She would not be the first to express such feeling.
Having expected to hear rampant anti-American sentiments, I was surprised when I repeatedly heard, "I love the people of America..." but was saddened and embarrassed when that statement was invariably followed by, "...but I hate the policy of their government."
This distinction, I believe, touches at the heart of the peaceful nature of the country. Because one cannot walk a mile down the streets of Abu Dhabi or Dubai (the U.A.E.'s largest cities) without hearing at least three languages being spoken, or encountering an extensive assortment of nationalities, the people of the U.A.E. are able to see people as just that: people.
An Iraqi man is not immediately associated with Saddam Hussein, neither is an American man instantly connected to George Bush. There is an ever-present sense in the U.A.E. that people are essentially the same despite their origins, and the governments of those origins are far removed from the hearts of individuals.
I am not a social philosopher by any stretch of the imagination; however, what I witnessed seems to be the building blocks for something truly great and lasting. Right in the middle of what so many assume to be a land of terror and turmoil is a bastion of hope and peace. These ideas do not stop at the borders of the U.A.E.
They are widespread throughout many of the Middle Eastern countries. The vast majority of people from Iraq, Iran, Palestine, Syria, and other countries often identified as enemies of the United States desire and believe in peace.
This is not from the mouth of an idealistic university student in Nashville, Tenn. Rather, these thoughts come straight from the mouths of Abi Modabi, Bill Adhami, Adel Abu, Hassan Al-Hosani and many others -- all of whom are citizens of those "enemy" nations, and all of whom are living peacefully and happily together on the beautiful shores of the United Arab Emirates.
