4th of July 2007

 On this 4th of July, America commemorates its 132nd Independence Day. Having been present in the United States since 2001, I've witnessed six of these celebrations. Over my seven years here, I've found myself contemplating my American experience, prompting thoughts about my future path within this context.

Arriving in America from India in the aftermath of 9/11, my introduction to this nation was far from what I had anticipated. The America I encountered differed greatly from the one during the Clinton years, a period I could only hear about. The world's trajectory had shifted before 9/11 for many, forming a global economy that interconnected people across the world. However, the term "pre-9/11" and "post-9/11" has come to symbolize this transformation. It's worth noting that this shift affected different populations at various times. The privileged fraction of the world had the means to label the 9/11 event through mass media, creating an additional layer of identities, such as "axis of evils," "radical Islamists," "terrorists," and "aliens." Simultaneously, the less fortunate half, unable to label events, continued living marginalized lives, detached from these changes.

In this changed landscape, America assumes a different appearance, akin to a suspicious partner questioning the morals of every neighbor. While America had never truly prioritized its neighbors, it now places greater emphasis on those who appear indifferent to it. Countries like Venezuela, Colombia, Bolivia, Cuba, and Chile have all been linked to some form of evil or malevolence in American history. Curiously, the world's largest economy finds itself surrounded by impoverished Latin nations striving for democratic stability over the past fifty years. America's list of despised dictators includes leaders from struggling economies: Castro, Che, Chavez, and others.

I grew up amidst a flood of media proclaiming American supremacy in innovation, technology, and free markets. The narrative suggested that America was a place where unwavering determination and hard work led to boundless success. In my mind, it resembled the legendary court of Indian Emperor Vikramaditya, known for its fairness and justice. However, as events transpired since my arrival on that sunny Chicago afternoon, my pride in these assumptions was shattered. My understanding of America underwent a radical transformation.

Leaving India on its 52nd Independence Day, I embarked on a journey of self-discovery and autonomy, stepping out from the shadow of parental influence. For individuals of my generation, pursuing education in America and experiencing foreign culture was the norm. The prospect of heading to America wasn't a question for me or my family; it was as commonplace as my mother discussing her friends' children studying in the US.

Barely a month after my arrival, the tragic events of 9/11 unfolded, drastically altering the course of events. America's profound hurt was matched by its profound anger, prompting unanimous support for retaliation. As the dust settled in the rubble, America swiftly launched an assault on Afghanistan, vowing to eradicate terrorism once and for all. The world extended condolences and even offered assistance in the form of refueling points for jets en route to bomb Afghanistan. America had declared war on all forms of terrorism.

Amidst this ongoing war, a new conflict emerged with Iraq as its target. Patience for scrutinizing evidence was in short supply; a boiling anger gripped the UN Security Council. Insufficient evidence was enough to fuel America's rage, which seemed disproportionate and unilateral. The UN weapons inspectors were disregarded if their findings challenged the presented evidence's legitimacy. In the words of Indira Gandhi, ironically India's only autocratic leader elected through democratic means, "You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist." America was in no mood to extend friendship. Even France, known for its contributions of fries and sparkling wine, found itself on the wrong side of the equation. Their fries were renamed "Freedom Fries," a move that paradoxically clashed with the symbolism of the Statue of Liberty—America's gift from France.

As the war's countdown neared zero in 2003, I was finishing my thesis at UWM (University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee). Most of my thesis mates, primarily local Wisconsin students, were engrossed in planning the thesis day arrangements. I found it puzzling that few of my peers shared my concerns about the impending war. Architecture education in India emphasized history and humanities, shedding light on Iraq's architectural and cultural significance. In contrast, American architectural schools allocated little time to non-European history. Could this disparity explain my friends' indifference? Indeed, America seemed apathetic to the imminent war and its potential repercussions.

During this time, my school hosted Keller Easterling, a Yale professor, whose lecture included acrimonious remarks against Iraq War protesters. Did this reflect a broader American disregard for historical or cultural assets? Did the world's youngest nation exhibit little appreciation for history?

Seven years have elapsed since the war's announcement, yet Osama Bin Laden, the alleged mastermind, remains at large. In this span, Iraq, the cradle of civilization, found itself ensnared in the whirlwind of terror. Saddam Hussein, Iraq's despotic leader, became a figure of widespread hatred in North America. After his execution, the graphic video of his hanging became a form of morbid entertainment for American youths seeking a twisted form of amusement. Despite his cruelty, Hussein was a secular dictator who supported women's education and aimed to unify Iraq's minorities. He referred to the Abbasid period, when Baghdad stood as the Arab world's political, cultural, and economic epicenter. He also highlighted Iraq's pre-Islamic past as Mesopotamia, the ancient cradle of civilization. His policies combined pan-Arabism and Iraqi nationalism, envisioning a united Arab world led by Iraq.

His consequential death raises questions about justice, particularly as he ascended to power with America's assistance, notably by Donald Rumsfeld, the Secretary of Defense during the 2003 Iraq War.

Interestingly, many Americans remain ignorant of recent political history or geography. As an Indian, I knew that Saddam Hussein was an American ally post the democratic government's fall in Iraq. I was also aware that Osama Bin Laden and the Afghan Taliban were part of a covert CIA operation funded by America to thwart communism in Afghanistan. Given this, it's surprising that most Americans remain oblivious to these linkages, often viewing them as conspiracy theories. I'm frequently asked, "Why does the world hate America?" Many assume it's due to their freedoms and success. But can a nation with a high incarceration rate, imprisoning foreign prisoners without proper legal representation in a camp built on occupied land, truly be considered a beacon of freedom? America's crime statistics, four times higher than Germany's despite a population one-twentieth the size, challenge the notion of a free society.

My initial assumption that the American media's global reach translated to an informed populace was shattered. My admiration for National Geographic Channel's informative content misled me, as I discovered that most Americans didn't watch it.