Written by Nazish Ali.
In World War I, the czars turned to peasants and the state turned to communism: A savage industrial slaughter in order to mark borders and divide Germany and the Ottoman Empire. We learned that Germany was downsized, and this only brewed the state into another monumental disaster we all know as The Nazis — with a similar situation in Iraq – ISIS.
The Muslims from the Ottoman Empire escaped to Africa and various other countries overseas. It’s always been a run for us Muslims. Our faith has always been held at gunpoint, and every time we hold on to it, our defense is misunderstood.
The destruction in Algeria, Morocco, Lebanon, Palestine, Palestine, Palestine — we haven’t stopped running, we are the living exodus, migrating from east to west, north to south, defending our faith, our very sanity.
Iraq was invaded on false assumptions by the former president, Bush and former prime minister Tony Blair. Both of whom, lie in their bed of roses in a lavish house whilst leaving the Middle East in absolute shreds. Our race is accused of terror caused by the Occident. Today, we are labelled as terrorists, yet we are the ones running away from them. Something doesn’t sum up, but the world fails to see.
The writings are on the wall, but we are blind. This is history. The success of the oppressors. Perhaps if history was written by the oppressed, the world would be led in a different light. The light of tolerance and altruism.
Time and again, Muslims are bullied and beaten down. We don’t want to fit in, we just want to be ourselves. We have the right to choose and most importantly, we have the right to live. Just like any other race.
Nicolo Machiavelli said, “For truth, there is no sure way of holding other than by destroying it.” Not only have our lands been destroyed, but everything we represent has been tarnished.
The world stands together in remembrance of Poppy Day and the Armenian genocide, however very little stand in unison at the Bosnian Massacre. The day we understand each other’s agony and pain, will be the end of these massacres, ethnic cleanses and genocides.
During World War II, Russian communism was abolished, Nazis were defeated, India and Pakistan were separated (maybe not), and a low-key war was birthed, the Cold War. All these wars have one thing in common, the Muslim history has been omitted.
The destruction in Algeria, Morocco, Lebanon, Palestine, Palestine, Palestine — we haven’t stopped running, we are the living exodus, migrating from east to west, north to south, defending our faith, our very sanity. We have no host country because the world chose to turn hostile on us right after they took our land and murdered us.
Peace is a distant future none of us can dare to dream. We hold tight onto our holy book because it’s very words contradict everything the world blames us for. Our faith is our gift from the Lord who gave the Jews the songs of David and Christians the hymns of Jesus. Qur’an is the poetry that our hearts crave for when our homes are dug six feet under.
Our children are like your children. They are raised saying “thank you” and “please.” But times are so bleak that our children are made to say “spare us” or “let me live.”
The mind perceives only what it wants, my veil is not an ammunition. My veil is my shroud for every day we are buried alive. When will the Muslims stop being a target? How many more treaties of peace shall we sign, only for the world to break?
The fault, is undoubtedly ours. We let the world into our homes only to infiltrate and divide us. We divide ourselves from each other and feed on hate. We rely on leaders who spend on building canals, skyscrapers and bribing to hide the truth about their own country. Leaders, who in the name of God, sell their souls to the devil and turn their countries into a land of illusion and debauchery.
This is a letter to the world, an innocent and sincere request, to change its perspective on the 99% of Muslims who aren’t terrorists, but only human.
The term, Exodus, has been used from the time of Moses — a mass migration from a country of oppression to a non-hostile host country. Home is where the heart is, but what is a home without a heart and, a heart without a home? Life becomes one agonizing, morose form of poetry, where the words arouse poignant emotions to a paralyzed heart. Where the heart wants to weep but, the soul is dead. There will always be a connection to the soil you live on and the heart that beats. Your footsteps synchronized on the land like a duet to the beat of your heart, until one day your heart and the land are one.
Such was the case perhaps, with the Jews… escaping from Pharoah, searching for the land of Jacob, David, Solomon. Such was the case perhaps, with Black people, looking for greener pastures from South USA into Kansas. History is so magnificent. It teaches the patterns and strategies of war, the mistakes made by the glorious of the glorious. The most magnificent thing about it however, is that it always repeats itself. Almost like a well-rehearsed scripted play.