Some citizens of New York are roiled by the prospect of a new mosque to be built two blocks from the footprint marking the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. I certainly have sympathy for the local residents who suffered the unspeakable trauma, and cannot imagine but that those who lost loved ones in the attack will feel their wounds ripped open by the debate concerning the now sacred ground. Whatever the city planners may have decided, we owe a preferential option to the considerations of those who have suffered the most.
Even with this preference, I nonetheless believe that the possibility of a mosque near Ground Zero poses too important a question for Western culture, and for the economy of which that Wall Street neighborhood epitomizes, to not consider the issue more critically and carefully.
I need to disclose that as a business ethicist and a theologian-in-training, I have been a keen participant in interfaith dialogue, particularly in relation to the moral resources that we need to develop within globalization, and towards sustainable development. From this experience, and from the understanding of my religious tradition as a Roman Catholic, I stand with the Muslim community that has conceived, and won approval for building their house of worship in lower Manhattan.
On one level, we cannot quarantine tolerance. History has shown us that when we exclude others, we in the end only ghettoize ourselves, compromising our dearest values. We are not so far away from the experience in Europe, where exclusion on the basis of religion led first to the loss of rights as citizens, and eventually as human beings. As Richard Evans documents in his recent multi-volume history of Nazi Germany, resentment – especially in trying economic times – can quickly be fanned into hatred that demonizes or dehumanizes the other. I don’t expect such extremism to infect the political culture in North America, but we would be foolish (with our own history of internments and racial prejudice) to assume that democracy’s DNA is somehow immune from succumbing to more radical intolerance.
On another level, can there be a more fitting symbol to the world than having a thriving mosque welcomed in the very neighborhood that others chose for the ‘clash of civilizations?’ Building this mosque in this place would reiterate to the world that democracy has the resilience and generosity to not let the hatred of enemies diminish freedom and rights. Some argue that building-approval should be withheld for minarets in Zurich or mosques on Wall Street until churches and synagogues are raised in Mecca. But is not the point that this is the difference that defines the West? Prohibiting this mosque from being built would be a regressive quid pro quo, while extending hospitality in this situation in which values are being contested globally only forces those promoting intolerance to reconsider – or at least defend to the world – their indefensible exclusions.
In another sense this choice is a do over. In the aftermath of 9/11 public emotion was channeled into war. And while the world supported going after Al Qaeda as the perpetrators of 9/11, the turn to an ill-advised war in Iraq, and the atrocities at Abu Ghraib, bled away much of that moral high ground. Here now is a moment to mark history with a different impression, investing in goodwill as a means to bridge difference, and build common security. This semiotic do over is rare, and not without consequence. If the choice or popular outcry is to exclude the mosque, then in many ways the forces of intolerance – including those that launched the attacks almost a decade ago – can claim to be winning after all.
I watched the news coverage for the protests against the mosque, and heard a police officer make the poignant case against an Islamic presence so close to the site where friends and colleagues were lost. The dignity of his grief deserves our profound respect. Others interviewed also objected to having a religious symbol so associated with the attackers so close to the memorial where loved ones would be commemorated. Time alone heals, and this timing may indeed be too close. However, it may also be that this mosque – in this place, at this time – would represent an even more significant and historic tribute. While the towers are absent because of violence, their legacy could be made present, accommodating a living dialogue between communities that would set a high bar for tolerance in our beleaguered world, and for future generations.
It cannot be lost on the Muslim leaders of this venture that their choice of location for their mosque bears a different magnitude of accountabilities. They must have considered carefully the still raw emotions of those who experienced tragedy at this location. And they no doubt are aware that the eyes of the world will be watching as this project comes to fruition. Just as we need progressive symbols of inclusion in secular society, we also need as never before exemplars of tolerance within religions. Even for non-Muslims, this mosque will therefore bear a heavy burden of hopes.
Neither side can know how this will work out in the end, except that denying this mosque deflates by another increment the possibility for mutual understanding. As we know from Jerusalem and Belfast, real estate carries all-too-real moral significance. The financial district in New York is another locus for beliefs, and we will soon be finding out whether this intersection will default to ancient exclusions, or take the bet with our best traditions on risking inclusion.
Tags: Dialogue, diversity, exclusion, inclusion, mosque at Ground Zero, symbols of tolerance
This entry was posted on Monday, June 7th, 2010 at 6:33 am and is filed under In the News. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
