On Jan. 12, close to 70 Bruins gathered to commemorate the heinous events which took place earlier this month in France. Following the attacks, millions of people took to social media to express their thoughts, emotions and reflections. Upon hearing that 12 people were ruthlessly, systemically executed in the offices of the satirical French magazine Charlie Hebdo, the world became Charlie. Seventy Bruins joined in the pain endured by the French people. We too became champions of the freedom of speech as we proclaimed to the world that we were “not afraid.” We posted, we tweeted, and we blogged. We left our virtual footprint in the history of the world, sharing our words for all of posterity.
And then it came to light that the first police officer killed by the terrorists was of Muslim faith. The officer, Ahmed Merabet, too, became an embodiment of freedom; he was a Muslim who sought to protect innocent strangers from terrorists acting in the name of Islam. As Ahmed’s brother said following his brother’s death, “My brother was Muslim and he was killed by two terrorists, by two false Muslims.”
As expressed later that day by a Twitter user identified as @Aboujahjah, “I am not Charlie, I am Ahmed the dead cop. Charlie ridiculed my faith and culture and I died defending his right to do so.” And instantly we all became Ahmed, placing our humanity before our faiths, refusing to “tar everybody with the same brush.”
Nearly 48 hours after the first attack, terror struck again. This time, in a kosher supermarket. Four were killed, several were injured and 15 were taken hostage. For the first time in what seems like forever, the world rallied behind the Jewish outcry, and suddenly we were all “Juif” or “Jewish.”
Charlie was targeted for depicting a tasteless image of an Islamic prophet. Ahmed was killed for defending Charlie’s right to do so. Where did the Jews fit into the equation? The irony which most people don’t know is that Charlie Hebdo, the magazine which was methodically singled out and attacked last week for Islamophobia, has also been known to publish anti-Semitic material. If anything, the Jewish people of France should have been the greatest source of empathy for those who felt targeted or offended by the cartoons. But rather than focus on what brought them together, as two communities that were targeted by the offensive cartoons, these terrorists decided to dedicate themselves to tearing people apart.
On Jan. 11, millions of people joined together in a march through the streets of Paris in memory of those lost and in solidarity with those who had lost. We, Bruins, followed in the footsteps with a march of our own. As we marched up toward Royce Hall, we were not Jewish, Muslim or French students. As the sounds of our shoes hitting the pavement echoed through our hollowed campus, we were not Charlie, Ahmed or Juif. We were Bruins. We showed our community, the world and ourselves that despite traditional divisions that may exist in our communities, we are so much stronger when we stand together. Each of our communities has suffered indescribable loss. That night, we were able to stand together, march arm in arm, and let our feet do all the talking. We left behind the world of momentary hashtags for a world in which we engaged with one another on the deepest and most profound level.
During the vigil, we asked each student to take out his or her phone and turn on the flashlight as we sanctified a moment of silence. As I slowly looked up from the ground, I was overwhelmed by the twinkling lights I saw before me. As my eyes shifted from the stars above me to the stars before me, I could not help but smile. Each of us has within us a tiny light, a unique gift to share with the world. The cartoonists at Charlie Hebdo radiated their lights by challenging us to think critically about the world around us. Ahmed Merabet shimmered his light by placing the fates of others before his own. The Jews in the supermarket fueled their flames through their continued commitment to their faith and their nation. The people of France twinkled their lights by standing unconditionally for the ideals of liberty, equality and fraternity – even in the darkest of times. And thousands of miles away, a group of Bruins illuminated the night by uniting in the name of humanity and peace.
That night, I was not Charlie, I was not Ahmed, and I was not Juif. That night, #JeSuisBruin.
Mokhtarzadeh is a first-year undeclared student.