America Explained: An introductory guide for the Muslim world (and everybody else, too)

If you had to choose one item to be a metaphor for all of humanity, what would it be? A strange request, I know. But, think about it. What might you choose? A piece of fruit, to represent Eve’s forbidden act in the Garden of Eden? Facebook, to show off your 7 billion friends? Water, a substance we can’t live without? A Big Mac sandwich from McDonald’s, because “we’re loving it”?

The item that I would choose is . . . a fingerprint. Why? Because no two fingerprints are exactly the same. Just like us. We are all unique. And while we sometimes try to deny it by dressing the same, listening to the same music, liking the same movies, or using the same slang words, the fact remains that human-beings, the creators of mass-civilization, are also individualists.

So, if we accept the premise that humans are fundamentally differentiated from one another, the next step is identifying the bases for that differentiation. What really separates us? And why?

There are a few broad categories of differentiation with which we are all familiar, like nationality, religion, or language, as well as more specific ones, like shoe size, eye color, or boxers or briefs. There is nothing wrong with categorization. It’s instinctual. It’s how we make sense out of our environment, and the people in it, to best enable our chances for success. When we hear an accent in speech it’s sometimes compulsory to ask, “Where are you from?” This way, if we hear a similar accent later on then we can make an assumption with increased precision. What is the purpose of this? I don’t know. Perhaps identifying the accent’s origin simply means we better understand our environment, which makes us more comfortable, and increases our chances for success. Or something like that?

So, what’s the problem? Well, when we categorize too often, it sometimes leads us to focus on differences, or similarities, a little too much.

This is the purpose of America Explained. This will be a series of articles that will attempt to explain American culture, history, politics, lifestyle, etc. from an American point of view, but intended for non-American readers, especially from the Muslim world. Each article will focus on a different theme from America that is in some way misrepresented, misunderstood, or just missed.

Here’s why I think I can do this: I am an American. I am an aspiring cultural anthropologist, which means I believe in cultural relativism, or the idea that every society is equal, and that no one culture, civilization, ethnicity, etc. is better or worse than any other. I have lived in many different areas of the United States. I have a college degree in area studies of the Muslim world, so I have dedicated lots of time to learning about many different aspects of many different places there. I am married to a Muslim from the Muslim world. I also live with a non-Muslim from the Muslim world. I have visited the Muslim world. And, when I say “Muslim world,” I don’t mean any specific place or people. It is a term, just like “the West.” Europeans and Americans are very different, but both are from the West. Uzbeks are very different from Egyptians, but both are from the Muslim world. (Check out my past article Religion: We are all Right)

I humbly acknowledge that even though it is my fascination, I know very little about the Muslim world. When I am choosing themes for my articles, it will be based on questions, comments, or concerns that I have either heard raised from someone or someplace related to the Muslim world or that I personally estimate to be relevant in that regard. And I especially hope for international comments that include similarities, differences, and impressions. I’m ultimately doing this to listen, not to talk.

So please look for America Explained in the title of future posts. It will be fun, educational, and reading it will make you more handsome (results may vary). But in all seriousness, my sincere hope is to start the dialogues that I feel are lacking with regard to cross-regional relations between the West and the Muslim world, especially at the human level with respect to differences and similarities.

I want to eliminate our presumptions, while reminding us that we all drink water to survive. But, what type of vessel do you use, a cup, a mug, a ladle, your hands?

We’ll get to all of that shortly. Stay tuned . . .

 

About the author

Ethan Lazuk

Born in Montana in 1989, I attended high school in Phoenix, Arizona, and college at Northern Arizona University and The University of Connecticut, before finally coming to The University of Montana, from which I recently earned a Bachelor's degree in Central and Southwest Asian Studies. I currently live in Washington D.C.


Although American English is my first language, I also have an intermediate/advanced knowledge of Modern Standard Arabic, with some Lebanese and Gulf vocabulary, as well as a basic knowledge of Farsi-Persian. My academic areas of interest include Cultural Anthropology, Islamic Studies, and Environmental and Human Geography. While my research interests include pre-Islamic religions and socio-political structures from the Middle Eastern and Central Asian regions; the formative years of Islam and the subsequent developments of alternative interpretations, or madhabs; intra-communal and inter-religious relationships in a pre-colonial context; the effects of colonial encounters on indigenous community structures and socio-religious ideologies; Orientalist versus indigenous historical narratives and interpretations; and political Islam and modern-day social movements, especially in response to Western foreign policy. In 2010, I was a summer intern with the Department of Defense, working on Ft. McNair Army Base in the Near East South Asia Center for Strategic Studies, and I have traveled in Istanbul, Turkey and lived for three months in Tbilisi, Republic of Georgia.


I am a third-generation American of Polish descent. My great-grandparents fled Eastern Europe during the Bolshevik Revolution and entered the United States through Ellis Island. Today, my parents and sister live in Colorado, where they are surrounded by the beautiful Rocky Mountains. I am also happily married to the love of my life named Dania. Originally from al-Madinah, Saudi Arabia, she came to the United States two years ago as an exchange student. She is a practicing Muslim. But I am a searcher who finds beauty in all religions, and therefore I do not belong to any one religion in particular. But her and I having different religious beliefs has not negatively affected our marriage. In fact, it has brought us closer together. We respectfully embrace our differences, while cherishing our infinite similarities. If being in an inter-faith marriage has taught me one thing, it is that religious differences are not a cause for division, but for collaboration.

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