Official page here.
Official page here.
This policy analysis identifies 154 foreign-born terrorists in the United States who killed 3,024 people in attacks from 1975 through the end of 2015. Ten of them were illegal immigrants, 54 were lawful permanent residents (LPR), 19 were students, 1 entered on a K-1 fiancé(e) visa, 20 were refugees, 4 were asylum seekers, 34 were tourists on various visas, and 3 were from Visa Waiver Program (VWP) countries. The visas for 9 terrorists could not be determined. During that period, the chance of an American being murdered by a foreign-born terrorist was 1 in 3,609,709 a year. The chance of an American being killed in a terrorist attack committed by a refugee was 1 in 3.64 billion a year. The annual chance of being murdered by somebody other than a foreign-born terrorist was 252.9 times greater than the chance of dying in a terrorist attack committed by a foreign-born terrorist.
–Alex Nowrasteh, Terrorism and Immigration: A Risk Analysis
If you follow the news at all, you’ve probably heard of the terror attack that claimed the lives of 49 people this last weekend. You probably have opinions on what the political response to it should be. Maybe not. That’s fine.
Before you begin making your opinions known to any and all who will listen, do one thing, please. Click here. That link takes you to a list issued by the city of Orlando of the victims’ names and ages. Next, take a deep breath. Then start reading their names aloud.
With every name you speak aloud, you are giving of yourself something that has been taken from the fallen. Every breath we take brings us closer to death. Speaking their names lends the dead one breath more than they possessed in life. It is the giving of your own breath, your time—your life—so that they might, however briefly, however metaphorically, live again.
If you intend to advocate social change in the name of the dead, honor them first with a tithing of your life. Honor them regardless. Unless you are one of the loved ones left behind by their loss, it is likely that these names will not live on in your memory, even if the sense of injustice does.
As I age and witness more of human history unfold before me, I find it easier and easier to withdraw into abstraction. Doing so shields me from grief and fuels my outrage. Outrage has its use. It burns hot, but it does burn out. The sense of injustice remains, shorn of the sense of loss.
Loss is not an abstraction, and positive, lasting change must be built for living, breathing people, not founded on the dead weight of past injustice. Take a deep breath. Speak their names. Then—then—set to work.
“In militaristic societies like the United States, it is almost axiomatic that our enemies must be cowards—especially if the enemy can be labeled a “terrorist” (i.e., someone accused of wishing to create fear in us, to turn us, of all people, into cowards). It is then necessary to ritually turn matters around and insist that no, it is they who are actually fearful. All attacks on U.S. citizens are by definition “cowardly attacks.” The second George Bush was referring to the 9/11 attacks as “cowardly acts” the very next morning. On the face of it, this is odd. After all, there’s no lack of bad things one can find to say about Mohammed Atta and his confederates—take your pick, really—but surely “coward” isn’t one of them. Blowing up a wedding party using an unmanned drone might be considered an act of cowardice. Personally flying an airplane into a skyscraper takes guts. Nevertheless, the idea that one can be courageous in a bad cause seems to somehow fall outside the domain of acceptable public discourse, despite the fact that much of what passes for world history consists of endless accounts of courageous people doing awful things.”
—David Graeber, “The Bully’s Pulpit”