Waking up in Dakar, Senegal, to the news of Osama bin Laden's death has sparked a whirlwind of emotion and confusion for this young American. Living for the past four months with a devoutly Muslim family in a country that is more than 90 percent Muslim, my opinion of Islam and of religion in general has shifted greatly throughout my time here in Senegal. Arriving as a self-prescribed atheist, I viewed the idea of religion in general in a less-than-positive light; it was easy for me to see religion as something that only created conflict and led to fanaticism, as seen in the likes of Osama bin Laden's distortion of Islam for his own political purpose and his grave distortion of the notion of jihad as a vehicle for politically motivated violence.
In 1998, Osama bin Laden declared jihad against the United States when I was just seven years old. Throughout the Western world, he was viewed as the face of terrorism, but it was all too easy for young America to view him as the face of Islam as well. With his five wives, upward of 25 children and long beard and turban, he was oftentimes the only face of Islam that we were exposed to. After the Sept. 11 attacks, Osama bin Laden himself declared, "These events have split the world into two camps — belief and disbelief." While we may have been taught that this was not the reality, that Osama bin Laden was not representative of the true Islamic religion that teaches peace and self-discipline, it has often been difficult for Americans to separate our emotions concerning the movement that bin Laden stood for and our emotions toward the rest of the Muslim world. This has led to a great deal of anti-Muslim sentiment within our country and a feeling abroad that America is an anti-Muslim nation.
My family here in Dakar, like the family of Osama bin Laden, is polygamous. My siblings wake at 6 a.m. every morning to begin their day with their morning prayer. A teacher of the Quran, or a "Marabout," comes to our house two times a week to teach my siblings the Quran around our dining room table. In my opinion, Islam is the glue that is holding this country together. From slavery to colonization to the World Bank's restructuring policies during the 1980s, the Western world has made it only more difficult for this African democracy to climb its way out of poverty. Senegal is a country that today is experiencing undeniable hardship and poverty, with a 50-percent unemployment rate and a general lack of opportunity for those looking for a better life. And yet every day, I am amazed to see the country wake up at 6 a.m., pray and commence with the laborious work each day brings. The Senegalese people have proven to be kind, welcoming, generous and quietly determined to live their lives in a peaceful and respectful way, as the Quran teaches. Time and time again families with almost nothing have opened up their homes to me, a young American who, if anything, has benefited from the same policies that have left Senegal impoverished, and offered me a delicious meal of "Ceebu Jen," the national dish of rice and fish. All this generosity despite the fact that, more often than not, the only news Senegalese people have heard concerning America's view of Islam is that of the Quran-burning pastors. It is my opinion that it is Islam that fuels this ability to give when one has nothing to give, and it is Islam that holds together this society teetering on the edge between hope and despair.
I read the news of Osama bin Laden's death and the apparent American "victory" within this context sitting in my Muslim, polygamous home in Dakar, Senegal. My emotions are mixed. I look at the photos of the young people in the United States, celebrating so fervently the death of this murderer. I, too, am happy to see him go. But I can no longer view the world in terms that are black-and-white enough to call this occasion a time for celebration.
Because, while bin Laden was evil, I believe that Islam can be a religion of unprecedented positive power. And in celebrating his death as if it were a victory, we can easily ostracize huge sections of the world that may see this event in a more complex, more nuanced light.
This morning, I received the following email from the director of my program here in Dakar, Serigne Ndiaye. He wrote:
"Bush tried it, Obama did it! Ten years after the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, Osama Bin Laden has finally been killed. This event may spur anti-American sentiment in some places around the world. While most people in Senegal will probably welcome the news with joy and relief, I would like you to exert more caution and keep a low profile. Obviously, this is not to make you feel unsafe in Senegal. I just want to draw your attention to the possibility of some isolated violent reactions to this situation."
While I understand that our generation is overjoyed to see Osama bin Laden go, I think that we could all take a lesson from Mr. Ndiaye's caution. This may be the symbolic end to the chapter in our nation's history within which we have come of age, but celebrating in the streets may only serve to incite those who (perhaps rightfully) feel an affinity for some of the factors that fueled Osama bin Laden's popularity. So at the same time that I take some pride in Obama's strong leadership and the actions of the military and intelligence forces, and I wish for nothing but peace for the families whose loved ones were killed on Sept. 11, I am also reminded today that the world is complex, that we are not always in the right and that thinking about the events of the world from more than one perspective is essential if we wish to truly end to terrorism and find peace.
