Je Suis Charlie?

Am I Charlie? 

Since the terrorist attack on Charlie Hebdo HQ several weeks ago, the world turns its eye on France and the media. The solidarity movement, solely named 'Je Suis Charlie' or translated as I am Charlie (or we are charlie?) emerged everywhere on social medias. As much as I condemn the attack on the newspaper, I don't think I am Charlie.

Have we reduced the meaning of solidarity by some hashtags? And if you don't put a big display on your page that you support Charlie Hebdo, are you also a pro-terrorist? Apparently, the peer pressure has driven everybody to think alike. #JeSuisCharlie is your way of saying you don't side with the killers. Not showing that on your papers or news programs means you don't give a care, and you are as horrible as the attackers. However, by doing that we have simply lost the purpose and meaning of solidarity. We're merely ducklings following the bigger ducks. We've lost the substance of what we say, since we just parrot what others say.

Apparently, since the attack happened, another popular quote has constantly surfaced on my feeds: "I do not agree with what you say, but I'll defend to death your right to say it." This quote by Voltaire possesses strong meaning and when people start re posting it everywhere, it seems they don't mean what they're saying. The issue with the caricature of Mohammad that was published by Charlie Hebdo, and led to the attack, was re-published by several medias, but some medias took a gentler approach and blurred the image. But this move was seen as cowardly by others. How so? Don't they agree with what Voltaire said? 

To make matters worse, a form of collective guilt appears in some Muslims, bravely apologizing for what happened with Charlie. Thus, the rest of the Muslims that don't apologize are seen as agreeing to the attack, or celebrating the mass-murder. Have we blurred the line between individuals identity and some religious symbols? This contagious responsibility is the flip side of Je Suis Charlie, and the one that doesn't actually bring goodness. Reality doesn't change just because you apologize for other's mistakes. Justice isn't served just by publishing the same image as Charlie, with you bravely saying you're not afraid. Lessons are not learnt that way. You don't have to be Charlie to abhor the inhuman attack. In fact, it is okay to not be one. 

To end this note, I'd like to quote the final paragraph of an essay written by a writer on his page, Paper Bird, who I think have taken this matter into details and sewn it into a beautifully-structured writing, something that I couldn't have pulled off, no matter how hard I try. I, after all, am not that literate.

"We lose our ability to imagine political solutions when we stop thinking critically, when we let emotional identifications sweep us into factitious substitutes for solidarity and action. We lose our ability to respond to atrocity when we start seeing people not as individuals, but as symbols. Changing avatars on social media is a pathetic distraction from changing realities in society. To combat violence you must look unflinchingly at the concrete inequities and practices that breed it. You won’t stop it with acts of self-styled courage on your computer screen that neither risk nor alter anything. To protect expression that’s endangered you have to engage with the substance of what was said, not deny it. That means attempting dialogue with those who peacefully condemn or disagree, not trying to shame them into silence. Nothing is quick, nothing is easy. No solidarity is secure. I support free speech. I oppose all censors. I abhor the killings. I mourn the dead. I am not Charlie."