I always wake up to the news on the radio, it’s a habit that I started when I didn’t have a TV because it made me feel as though I was keeping up to date with current affairs. This means that often, at the edge of sleep, my thoughts are filled with natural disasters, health scares, and political turmoil. But lately, more and more stories of young people heading over to fight with ISIS have been featuring in my morning routine.
One particular story struck a chord with me, enough to go look it up online and find out more. It was about a young man who converted to Islam and went to the Middle East to join ISIS and be a part of the “holy war”. Videos show him dressed in fatigues, scarf on his head, and an AK 47 at his side. In a strong accent he implores other Muslims to join the cause, to stand up for what is right, to kill those who would tell them otherwise, to not trust world leaders, to incite violence.
From his mouth hatred spills towards those who are the target of his anger, but also towards those who are a part of his former life. This young man was not born Muslim, nor was he born in a Muslim country, but here he is, having taken on this new life and a new set of values.
Photos from his former life show a mother holding a young boy. Her face is blanked out, but you can see she cares deeply for him, an arm draped protectively around his shoulders. He seems a happy, smiling unknowing by his mother’s side. It is safe to say that many of the ISIS fighters started out the same way, regardless of where they were born, what religion or ethnicity they are. Many of them started out being loved by their families, being hugged, sharing meals, having lunches made for school. So how does a person start out as this innocent child who is loved to feeling so much hatred towards the world, and to those who played such a major part in bringing you into it? How do the mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters of smiling children feel one day when they see a member of their family endorsing violence and hatred?
This is not about religion or race, this is about what moves people to hate. Why is it that some people experience great loss, great difficulty, and great failure only to continue to love, while others don’t? What makes some people put the memories of the good times in their life aside to be replaced by the need to inflict violence on others?
I wonder if this young man ever considered who some of the real victims of his new life are, and wondered what his friends and family do when they see him on the news and think about the person he used to be. Does the cause that he is fighting for really only damage the ones who have damaged him?
On the other side, do the militants fill the place that his family had in his life, or is he there to fulfil an agenda of someone else? If this is about a sense of justice, then surely the ones to fight are those who caused the injustice. So go then and stand up to those who would bring you down. But as far as my simple brain can tell, terrorism doesn’t hurt those who hurt you. Most often the people that are hurt are just normal people with normal lives who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, or they are the people that loved you, that cared for and protected you. So could someone enlighten me on how cruelty and violence are an answer to our personal problems? Is what people are fighting for really worth it?
Thanks for reading.
… The Not So Smart One.
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