Especially Since the Start of the War in Gaza…

I gave a ride to a friend of mine, an elderly man from the synagogue. At the end of the Shabbat service, I drove him and his wife back to their apartment building. The old guy immigrated to the United States many years ago from Ukraine, right after the Soviet Union imploded. He’s had a very interesting life, and he has a large number of strong opinions. He decided to express some of them during the drive to his home.

He had heard somewhere that an Australian politician, maybe the assistant to the prime minister, had spoken out about Muslims residing in his country. Apparently, the minister had complained about Muslims not fully integrating into Australian society. According to my friend, the political figure had stated that Muslims need to assimilate. If they can’t, then they should voluntarily leave the country. If they won’t, they should be deported.

My elderly friend heartily agreed with that viewpoint, and he thought the same thing should apply to Muslims living in the United States. Especially since the start of the war in Gaza, he has condemned Palestinians living in our country who are demanding the destruction of Israel. He expanded his disapproval of the Palestinians to Muslims in general as I drove him home. He said, “When I go now to the grocery store, to the self-checkout, all I see is women wearing the hijab. They are from Pakistan and Somalia. Milwaukee is full of Muslims now. This whole country is full of Muslims now.”

I don’t know how he knew the women in the hijabs were from Pakistan or Somalia, unless he took the time to ask them. He probably didn’t. I doubt that he ever talks to a Muslim.

I don’t agree with my friend, but I didn’t argue with him. I could have told him about my Syrian friends. I don’t think that would have made a positive impact. The conversation would have gone nowhere. Confronting prejudice sometimes requires subtlety. Maybe I shouldn’t have let his comments slide, but I understand why he thinks the way he does.

The old man and his family lived in an environment of rabid antisemitism in the Soviet Union. He was a little boy during the Holocaust. He views Israel as the last and best refuge for the Jews. This being the case, he takes any attack on Israel as an attack on the Jewish people, his people. For him, the Palestinians, in particular Hamas, are the enemies of Israel, and therefore his enemies. He won’t socialize with his enemies.

My friend had a son who served as an officer of the Soviet Army in Afghanistan. That was back in 1983. His son, Illya, was the sole survivor of an IED explosion during that war. Illya was severely wounded, and he never really recovered from that experience. He suffered from PTSD for forty years. The mine that wounded him was planted by the Afghan mujahedeen, the Muslim warriors fighting to drive out the Soviets. The old man buried his boy during the spring of this year. I was at the funeral. In my friend’s mind, the Muslims killed his son. In truth, a few of them did, but not the women working in the local grocery store.

My friend is not alone in his feelings. My oldest son, Hans, fought in Iraq. He got shot there, and he killed people there. Sometimes, he still thinks of those people as “Hajjis.” I don’t know if Hans ever interacts with Muslims. I think that he actively avoids them. Intellectually, he knows that they aren’t his enemy. How he feels emotionally is a whole different story.

How does a person get past this? Some people don’t, they can’t. The trauma is too deep. The wound just won’t heal.

There are people from certain groups that I avoid. I have my own deep-seated prejudices. The only way I have found to deal with these feelings is to force myself to get to know a specific person from one of those groups as an individual, as a unique person. I may or may not become friends with that person. That isn’t the point. It is more important that I recognize the man or woman as somebody who is more than just a member of a tribe. To do that takes time and patience. It requires humility. It is work.

It is worth it. 

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Frank (Francis) Pauc is a graduate of West Point, Class of 1980. He completed the Military Intelligence Basic Course at Fort Huachuca and then went to Flight School at Fort Rucker. Frank was stationed with the 3rd Armor Division in West Germany at Fliegerhorst Airfield from December 1981 to January 1985. He flew Hueys and Black Hawks and was next assigned to the 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord, CA. He got the hell out of the Army in August 1986.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.