Americans must push back against bigotry

The US has long fought between the voices of reason and voices of bigotry and fear, as James Zogby's own family history demonstrates.

President Barack Obama has railed against the bigotry voiced about accepting refugees into the US. Susan Walsh / AP

It has been frightening to listen to the intolerant and near hysterical tone of the debate over admitting Syrian refugees into America. Despite the fact that conflating refugees with terrorism is irrational and bigoted, this notion has spread quickly with: most of the Republican presidential aspirants making frighteningly bigoted statements about refugees or Muslims, in general; more than 30 governors saying that they will not accept Syrians in their states; and 289 members of Congress voting to restrict the ability of the president to fulfill his goal of increasing the number of Syrian refugees to be admitted each year.

It’s not the first time that such a wave of intolerant hysteria has swept over the United States. It’s happened before, and each time Americans have submitted to fear and bigotry, have done damage to countless numbers of immigrants and have stained the pages of history.

During last century’s two world wars, the victims were Americans of Italian, German and Japanese descent. In peacetime, African Americans, Jews, Asians and Latinos were persecuted. And because this is not the first time that Syrians have been victims of bigotry and intolerance in the US, for me this is personal.

During the First World War, my grandfather was forced to take his family from their ancestral home in the hills of Lebanon and seek refuge from preying Ottoman armed forces. My grandfather died in exile, leaving my grandmother alone with seven children. At the end of the war, they returned to their village and began preparations to join the massive wave of immigrants making their way from Syria and Lebanon to America. They were economic and political refugees seeking freedom and opportunity.

En route, my father was waylaid in France where he found work, hoping to earn enough to continue his onward journey. By the time he was ready to depart, Congress had voted to cancel visas to the US for all “Syrians” (since that is what Syrians and Lebanese were called back then). They were termed a “public menace”, who brought “foreign ways” and “nothing of value” to the US. Senator David Reed of Pennsylvania, in making his case for Syrian exclusion, said: “We don’t need any more Syrian trash coming to America.”

Desperate to rejoin his family, my father got a job on a ship sailing from Marseille to New York. On arrival, he disembarked and entered the US illegally. Eventually he connected with his mother and siblings and he never looked back. After years in hiding, fearing deportation and separation from his family, my father took advantage of a 1930s amnesty programme and, in 1942, he was sworn in as a citizen of the United States of America.

During the past nine decades, my extended family has done well in their new home. They have produced doctors, lawyers, teachers, veterans of every war and public servants in every branch of government.

In 2013, Barack Obama appointed me to the US Commission on International Religious Freedom. With the appointment comes what is called “a parchment” – handwritten declaration, signed by the president, making a formal announcement of the appointment. On the wall in my office, my parchment hangs next to my father’s naturalisation certificate. To me, it tells a wonderful story about what makes America great – how it can change from exclusion and intolerance to acceptance and opportunity.

The extraordinary thing about my family’s story is that it is so ordinary; it is a story shared by millions of others Americans. It defines the essential quality that makes the US a diverse nation.

There have always been two voices competing for the soul of America: one has been welcoming and respectful of diversity, while the other has been intolerant and fearful of those who are different. The tension between them has defined the nation’s history from its beginning. While the nation was born in sin, marked by the twin evils of slavery and genocide against indigenous people, the United States’ founders also elevated the virtue of religious freedom and the notion that all were created equal. Over the past two-and-a-half centuries, these two Americas have been locked in battle. In times of national hysteria, like the one the US is now going through, I believe it is imperative that Americans understand what is at stake.

One side speaks to the values to which Americans aspire, the other to their darker impulses and fears. The former is rational, the latter is irrational. If left unchecked, the dark side can, for a time, win out. And because runaway fears can so easily trump reason, they must be confronted.

You could make all of the arguments about the rigorous vetting process and the security checks in place to ensure that the refugees the US receives do not present a threat to the country. Or you could cite the fact that since September 11, 2001, the US has welcomed 784,000 refugees and not a single one of them has committed a violent act that would endanger other Americans. But I know that when hysteria is in the air, rational arguments are not heard against the voices of intolerance and fear.

So, when Republican candidates call for shutting mosques, closing the door to all Muslim immigrants, or creating special IDs for those who are in the country, it is time to push back. What Americans must do in response is to stand up to the bullies, as the president has done.

If history teaches us anything, it is that the voices of the better angels will ultimately be heard and they will win in the end. America has confronted and defeated its demons before and it can do so again. How long it will take and how much damage will be done before Americans come to their senses will be determined by the degree to which there is strong and assertive leadership to challenge and overcome the fear and temporary madness that is in the air.

James Zogby is the president of the Arab American Institute

On Twitter: @aaiusa

This story has been amended since it was first posted online