Today marks the 25th anniversary of 9/11. I still remember watching it as a teenager, seeing those images all over the news. Anyone who watched it unfold at the time would understand how unreal and shocking it felt — a feeling perhaps easier to share with those who remember it than to describe in words.
At the time, I had no idea how one attack would go on to change so much around us — geopolitics, wars, economies and societies. I had even less idea how, over the years, my own identity as a Muslim, and the way Muslim identity was seen and discussed around the world, would change with it. Looking back, I find myself caught between two conversations that have grown louder since then. One treats Muslims collectively as a threat. The other, within parts of the Muslim community, sometimes treats difficult questions about religion, extremism or reform as attacks that must simply be rejected.
I have never been comfortable with either.But interestingly, as an Indian Muslim at that time, I don’t remember 9/11 feeling immediately connected to my own Indian Muslim identity. The names on the news—Taliban and Al-Qaeda—moved through a faraway political mist, strangers wearing a faith we shared in name, but little else. It was happening somewhere else, involving people who seemed very far removed from our everyday lives.Unique burden
