Islam and Judaism

By Hameeda Al-Kawari

Islam and Judaism: There always was a problem between the two. As a Muslim Arab, I think they’re fighting for no reason. They should talk it over instead.

When I first moved to London in September 2000, I was surprised at how racist my new school was. Many of the students were Jewish and, because of the on-going Israel vs. Palestine problem, they didn’t like Arabs.

At the beginnning of the school year, however, they were my friends and didn’t really notice that I was an Arab. (I guess they didn’t look in the school directory!) But one day the eighth grade “leader” of this anti-Arab group, who was a Jew from South Africa, came up to me and said, “You’re an Arab. Kill the Arabs!”

He kept repeating this while standing on a rock, above all the other students. I didn’t know what to do, as I’d never faced a situation like this in my entire life. I therefore denied my ethnicity. I felt horrible after that experience.

The following week, on a school trip to a museum, the boys in my seventh grade class kept coming up to me and calling me an A-R-A-B, which stood for “Alden-related annoying bitch.” (Alden was a kid who was in their class the year before.) I tried to be strong and ignore it, but I reached a point where I couldn’t stand it any longer. I started to cry, but I didn’t let them see me. That was the day when the South African boy felt sorry for me and asked me what was wrong. I didn’t tell him but I felt touched that he asked. He had a heart after all! I dried my tears and resolved not to be hurt again.

The boys in my class continued to taunt me. I finally stood up for myself, though, when they went past the limit. I had had enough of this foolishness! In the subway station I screamed, “Go to hell, you racist idiots!” They froze. I guess they were surprised by my anger.

What got on my nerves was that they were under the influence of the eighth graders, but they were not even Jewish. So they had no right to do that to me.

About a week later, the whole Middle School went on a week-long trip to the south of England. When we got there, my friend and I begged our teacher to let us share a room. But everyone got to choose except me and my friends. My teacher put me in with an Israeli Jewish girl whom I hardly knew. Needless to say, we didn’t want to share a room. I thought we would have problems, and I’m sure she felt the same way.

But we were wrong! During the week we began to speak up. We talked about our backgrounds and the difficulties between the Palestinians and Israelis. She understood what I was going through and thought I shouldn’t be treated like that because I was an Arab. She agreed with what I thought about the whole “problem.” We both said the people on both sides should talk over their differences and build a bridge of friendship rather than fight.

By the end of the trip, I had become confident and proud of my heritage. When we got back to school, the South African boy called me an Arab again and I simply said, “So what? I’m proud!”

I simply walked away, but I could hear him say, “You shouldn’t be.”

Ever since that incident I have stood up for myself without having any doubts. Eventually, the boys who bullied me began to respect me for who I was and where I came from. I hope I am now mature enough to put the whole incident down to childish ignorance.

Since then, I have talked at length to the South African boy and the others, and we have begun to know a lot about each other, our different cultures and backgrounds. Through talking rationally, we resolved our differences.

I’ve learned a lot about Judaism which I didn’t know before. I now realize that most Jews don’t like what’s going on between Israel and Palestine any more than the Arabs do. Islam and Judaism have much in common and, even if there are a lot of problems that still have to be resolved, we should realize that we practice our respective religions in similar ways. If these two religions were compared, one would be surprised that there is fighting instead of unity.

If two teenagers (one 13, the other 14) could try to understand each other’s point of view, just think how violence and bloodshed could be avoided if adults would do the same. As a 13-year-old, a situation like this seems like a fight between two countries. If two children could sort out their problems, why can’t the politicians do the same? Adults seem to want war, children want peace—and that’s the truth. One only has to look at the situation in Northern Ireland to see how the peace process there was helped by the determination of the children on both sides.

Perhaps one day, if the politicians begin to listen to the children, the same might be achieved in the Middle East.

Hameeda Al-Kawari is a Qatari teenager who attends school in Britain. She dedicates this piece “to my dearest mother, who always had faith in me and was always there to help and advise me,” and with thanks to Jane, “for her ideas and editing.”