Nous Sommes Charlie

The blow to the freedom of speech—not to mention the senseless and devastating loss of life—at Charlie Hebdo on January 7 has prompted impassioned demonstrations and protests here in Paris regarding the freedom of speech. Despite a rather turbulent start to the semester, I feel 100% safe and even proud to be here at this time. This city is incredibly resilient, and every shop, café, patisserie, or boucherie I walk by has a sign in the window to remind everyone that nous sommes Charlie. 

In trying to stay up to date on the news coverage and current events in France and all of Europe, I can't help but feel that the second hostage situation at a Jewish supermarket in the Marais (incidentally one of my favorite neighborhoods) has been grossly overlooked. I could never say that this particular situation of bloodshed was worse than that one, but I see a distinction here that seems unjust. The brave men and women at Charlie Hebdo were killed for doing what they do. The families at that supermarket were killed for simply being who they are. Both were unjustified and horrific acts of violence, but the crusaders for free speech at Charlie Hebdo were aware of the risk they took in publishing potentially offensive cartoons and had even felt the repercussions before. Nobody should go to pick up a few items from the grocery store with the fear they might not return home. I think I'm safe in saying that none of us do.

The first night I was back in Paris, I went to have tea and catch up with a good friend of mine here who is devoutly Jewish. She was visibly upset about the growing sentiments of anti-Semitism in Paris, and understandably so. NYU has a strong support system, including a Jewish student center at the Washington Square Campus, and they sent a delegation to Paris to be present with the Jewish community here and also help students make sense of the situation. My friend invited me to go with her to an impromptu short film screening/discussion being held at school the next evening. I realized just how little I knew about the current religious climate here, particularly between Judaism and Islam, so I agreed to attend. 

The short film titled Of Many documents the story of the Imam Khalid Latif and Rabbi Yehuda Sarna. Both work at NYU as leaders of student groups for their respective faiths. Their unlikely relationship began with a simple email with a simple question of curiosity about the rules of eating kosher and has since developed into an intimate friendship along with a mission to foster respect and understanding among Jewish and Muslim students at NYU. The film was created a few years ago, but the issues it addresses still ring true today, if not even truer than before. It opens with footage of Gaza-Israeli warfare that looks as if it could have been filmed this summer though it is several years old; there are mentions of conflicts over cartoons of Mohammed published in a Danish magazine, and growing fears of radical Islam and anti-Semitism are discussed. I searched for a link online but unfortunately was unable to find one; however, if the opportunity to watch this film ever arises, I cannot recommend it highly enough.

It is one thing to see a conflict as Islam versus Judaism. It is entirely another when you see two men before you, best friends but also each a leader of their clashing faiths. Yet it is much more difficult to label an entire religion as violent or hateful when you see a photo of Imam Latif cradling Rabbi Sarna’s youngest child while their families eat dinner together, or when you hear the genuine pain in the Imam’s voice as he phone’s Rabbi Sarna after the 9/11 attacks, hoping out loud the incident will not hurt the understanding between the Jewish and Muslim communities at NYU but will instead open up new paths for discussion. It's hard to fanaticize a faceless entity when you see the kindness and warmth of its individuals, but unfortunately they aren't the ones making front page news. 

Rabbi Sarna had recently visited the site of the grocery store hostage situation, and he described the moving memorials and signs that had been left to honor the victims. One in particular stood out to him. It read: “I am Muslim, and I have come to share in your pain.” I think that we could all work on doing that. Instead of jumping to generalizations or pointing fingers or fearmongering, we just need to realize that so many people are hurting on every side of this conflict. We might not be able to fix it, but at the very least we can share in their pain. 

One of my professors was in charge of giving a “welcome back to Paris” speech at our re-orientation meeting yesterday—needless to say his speech underwent some hasty revision on the plane ride to Paris after last week’s events. One thing he said seemed contradictory at first, but after he explained a bit more, I must say I think he’s onto something. He speculated out loud that one of the benefits of a liberal arts education is that it teaches you to question, and a sure sign of a good education is when you start to have fewer answers. As I said, it sounded kind of backwards at first, but then I started to think about how easy it is to believe everything we’re fed by the 24 hour news and how frequently we accept black-and-white explanations of good guys and bad guys because they are more simple to wrap our heads around. The truth is often far less simple, and it takes lots of awareness and critical thinking to step back and question what we think we know in order to see a situation from all sides. To quote Rabbi Sarna once again, “The freedom of speech ought to come with the responsibility to listen.”

Memorial surrounding the statue at the Place de la République

Hôtel de Ville (City Hall)

Monument to peace on the Champ de Mars