It is all about the wiring

It is all about the wiring
This post was published on the now-closed HuffPost Contributor platform. Contributors control their own work and posted freely to our site. If you need to flag this entry as abusive, send us an email.

The Sisterhood of Salaam Shalom (SOSS) recently traveled to Azerbaijan, the country selected for its 2017 Building Bridges trip. SOSS, a North American grassroots organization of Muslim and Jewish women, is dedicated to interfaith engagement with the goal of building relationships and putting an end to hate. One of its main activities is an annual trip to an area of interest to both faith groups. Traveling provides an opportunity for participants to get to know each other more intimately and the location is selected so that SOSS members can increase their knowledge base of others whose lives are impacted upon by relationships between faith groups.

The SOSS travel committee selected Azerbaijan this year because of its unique approach to diversity. Azerbaijan, on the shores of the Caspian Sea, is bordered by Russia to the north and Iran to the south. Azerbaijan counts the United States and Israel as significant strategic partners in the region. Historically, Azerbaijan, which was on the Silk Route, and is the nexus of Asia and Europe, has always known diversity. In 1918, Azerbaijan became the first democratic republic in the Muslim world. During the trip, we were often reminded that Azerbaijan granted women the right to vote in 1918, before the United States granted the same rights to women. In 1921, the country lost its independence when it was forced to become part of the Soviet Union. Just over 25 years ago, Azerbaijan once again declared its independence.

Azerbaijan, a decidedly Muslim country, has also included a Jewish community for more than 2500 years. The country is known as one of the best examples of coexistence: religion and faith do not separate one group from the other. Jews live in harmony with Muslims: Sunnis pray alongside Shiites. Whether interfaith or intrafaith, their approach to religion does not keep them apart from one another. In a contemporary world fractured by differences assigned through labels, our group of Muslims and Jews, whose religious communities are frequently the product of anti-Jewish and anti-Muslim acts and rhetoric, wanted to learn how another country was able to celebrate its diversity and its citizens live in harmony.

During our journey we met with dignitaries and local residents. While we were in awe of the spectacular architecture and gorgeous geographical landscape. our goal was to spend time with the local people so that we might experience Azerbaijan society through their eyes and learn from their daily life. I will never forget the glowing face of one of the participants as she donned her hijaab for the first time in so long. She had stopped wearing her hijaab in the United States after she was verbally accosted in a grocery store. To see this woman feeling so secure in her desire to publically display her faith practice was overwhelming. Our trip coincided with the Jewish festival of Purim, during which time the Jewish community celebrates its survival in ancient Persia when a local despot tried to annihilate them. The festival features a woman, Esther, as the hero of the story. Here we were as women in the same region marked by the holiday. When we entered the synagogue during the Purim celebration, the synagogue’s rabbi welcomed all of us. He invited all of us to dance: Muslim and Jewish sisters from the SOSS dancing arm and arm with the local Jewish women from Azerbaijan. There were no questions. There were no obstacles. Sometimes, you just have to dance.

The nation’s dignataries also welcomed us with a variety of briefings and meetings. Consistent with their local tradition, every encounter included the sharing of tea and pastry. We had the privilege of meeting with the U.S. ambassador to Azerbaijan; the rector of the Azerbaijan Diplomatic Academy, an English-speaking university and many university students; the chairman of the State Committee on Religious Affairs; the chairwoman of the state committee for family and women; the chairman of the state committee on religion; the State Counselor for Intercultural, Multicultural and Religious Affairs; and Religious leaders of both the Muslim and Jewish communities.

The most significant meetings however, were those with the local citizens. We kept asking the same question: ”What is the secret to coexistence that permeates every aspect of life in Azerbaijan?” The answer was always the same—“There is no secret.” We were told: “This is just the way it is. This is the way things should be. This is our culture. This is how we have been raised. This is how our parents we were raised. And this is the same as generations before us.”

By the conclusion of the trip, I had the answer to my question. We are not born to hate. Hate is something that is taught through words and by example. Azerbaijan is a country whose citizens are wired to live in harmony with one another. This was exemplified when one of the community leaders explained that every person in Azerbaijan practices tolerance. I always considered tolerance to be a negative notion rather than a positive one as he seemed to be using it. I thought, when one tolerates another, one puts up with that person, almost begrudgingly. So I asked for elaboration. The answer astounded me. He explained that Azeris equate tolerance with accepting and respecting one another. It’s that simple: acceptance and respect for those who are not like oneself.

And just as I was leaving the country, I was reminded once again of the set of expectations that we carry that prevent us to simply accept and respect. At the airport in Baku, there are multiple levels of security. As we passed Passport Control, we were questioned by a border patrol officer as he examined our documents. He processed my documents rather quickly. Then he looked at my husband (one of the few men who joined the SOSS on the trip). The officer asked my husband “Where are you from?” The response, “the United States.” Once again, “No, where are you from originally?” Again, my husband responded, “America, the United States.” The officer’s response. “Israel?” This is where I panicked, as the officer pointed to my husband’s head and his kipah (my husband always wears a traditional Jewish headcovering). Then the border patrol officer asked my husband if he could speak Hebrew. My husband answered in Hebrew, “Yes” and continued speaking the conversation in Hebrew. That’s when the border patrol officer smiled and said, “Yehudi (Jew)” and pointed to himself “Quba (the self-contained Jewish city in the Caucasus mountain) once again pointing to himself. Then he told us that his parents and grandparents were also from Quba and gestured to indicate that they had lived there for many generations. He told us that he hoped that we had enjoyed our visit to Azerbaijan and invited us to return. I will return to Azerbaijan and I commit to teaching others what I learned. Once acceptance and respect become part of our culture, our future generations will be wired to live in harmony.

Popular in the Community

Close

What's Hot