Turban Equals Terrorist – Or Does It?

As I was preparing to go through security at the airport to go home for Thanksgiving, I was hurriedly removing my bracelets and coat, separating my liquids, and performing all the other necessary duties to successfully get through without having to be patted down and questioned. Luckily for me, I was not seen as suspicious or in need of a “random” check by the TSA and I was able to breeze through the advanced metal detectors and security guards the menacingly stood in my way of a well-deserved break.

As I reassembled my outfit and my possessions, I couldn’t help but think about one of my best friends who takes quite a different approach to security checkpoints. His name is Neil and both of his parents immigrated to the United States from the Punjab region of the Middle East. Although he was raised in a Sikh household, he does not carry around the Five Ks, which are five articles of faith that all baptized Sikhs are typically obliged to wear at all times. One of these Ks is one of the most prominent ways in which most Americans would be able to identify a Sikh, and that is through the presence of Kesh. Kesh is when a Sikh has uncut hair and usually ties and wraps it in the Sikh Turban, called a Dastar.

Even though he did not wear a turban, as Neil got older he was almost always chosen by the TSA for a “random” check. After realizing he was being chosen for these checks due to racial profiling and accepted that this would likely be his fate every time that he traveled, he decided to embrace the stereotype. Whenever he knows he will be going through security at the airport, he begins to grow out his beard. On the day of his flight, he wraps his non-traditionally short hair in a turban.

On a school trip my senior year, we were flying together to Chicago. I asked him why he was wearing a turban and he responded, “Well, I am inevitably going to get “randomly” checked anyways, so I might as well take it to the extreme and prove to everyone around me that just because I wear a turban, look Middle Eastern, and have a beard, I am not necessarily a terrorist. Also, I like when people don’t sit around me – it makes it much easier to spread out.”

This explanation was both shocking and horrifying. I was shocked that my best friend – one of the kindest, most driven, and successful students that I know – was the subject of such racial profiling, even without his turban and beard. I was horrified that people would have the insecurity to single him out as a threat and have the gall to move away from him or avoid him altogether in airports (I will never cease to be amazed at the cruelty and racism of some people). However, more than my horror and shock, I was impressed with the way in which he handled the situation. Instead of trying to blend in with the other Americans with which he would be traveling, he embraced his identity and used his kind nature to prove people wrong and, whether successful or not, try to shape the ways in which those around him perceive people who wear turbans.

Although this was a lengthy anecdote, it shows the ways in which orientalism affects our perceptions and daily lives. Edward Said’s definition of “orientalism” describes what Said sees as the false cultural assumptions of the “Western world.” These false assumptions facilitate the cultural misrepresentation of the “The Orient”, in general, and of the Middle East, in particular. Orientalism also describes the subtle and persistent Eurocentric prejudice against Arabo-Islamic people and their culture. 9/11 resulted in increased tensions between America and the Middle East and intensified feelings of fear and hatred within the US, thereby heightening already present orientalism. This fear of the “other” and the stereotypes it produces was seen in the lack of respect Neil received whenever he grew his beard and wore a turban.

Orientalism, feelings of prejudice, and blatant fear of the other are reinforced by structural violence. Bourgois and Schonberg introduce the concept of structural violence in Righteous Dopefiend. As defined by Farmer, structural violence refers to how the political-economic organization of society wreaks havoc on vulnerable categories of society. Much of the media and political landscape teach the American public to be suspicious of those from the Middle East, thus forcing those in turbans (and even those that look Middle Eastern) into vulnerable social groups and causing great suffering. Although my friend hid his feelings of shame caused by the structural violence he experienced well, it was apparent that it bothered him. It is easy to imagine how someone who lacked English language skills, knowledge of American culture, and a strong support system would crumble under the pressure of American law-enforcement, politics, economics, and daily prejudices. Continued structural violence often leads to or coexists with symbolic violence. Bourdieu’s concept of symbolic violence links immediate practices and feelings to social discrimination and refers specifically to the mechanisms that lead those who are subordinated to “misrecognize” inequality as the natural order of things and to blame themselves for their location in their society’s hierarchies. Because Neil was well educated, wealthy, and had a strong sense of pride in his Sikh background, he did not necessarily reproduce or become a target of this symbolic violence. Again, it is easy to see how this symbolic violence could affect the daily life, mental health, physical health, and assimilate into society.

On a much larger scale, Gap recently released a new ad that features a poster of a turbaned and bearded Sikh man, Waris Ahluwalia, with a woman hanging on his shoulder as part of their “Make Love” campaign. A CNN contributor, civil rights activist, and interfaith organizer, Valerie Kaur, wrote a fascinating article about this ad campaign and the vandalism of one of the ads that occurred of a New York subway wall. The vandalism of the ad shows the continued widespread fear of the oriental “other” and the apparent prejudice that accompanies it. In addition, you can see the ways in which seeing such a vandalized ad would be demoralizing and could subsequently be internalized as an act of symbolic violence. Although Gap responded quickly to the vandalism, this incident shows the continued presence of structural forces that encourage (or do not abate) such behavior. You can read this insightful and important article here:

http://www.cnn.com/2013/12/04/living/gap-ad-sikh-identity/index.html?hpt=hp_c3

Here is a photo of the advertisement:

Here is a photo of vandalized advertisement:

In her article, Kaur brilliantly highlights the importance of the ad. “For the first time, a mainstream, nationwide ad presents a turbaned man as beautiful, even sexy. He is not a suspect, but a model; not a terrorist, but a person with dignity; not a foreigner, but an American. The ad thrilled Sikh Americans like me, who have worked for years to dismantle one of the most pernicious prevailing stereotypes in American culture: turban equals terrorist.” This quote shows how Gap is (at least on a surface level) attempting to counteract orientalism and the structural and symbolic violence that accompanies it.

Founded and headquartered in San Francisco, Gap is seen as a symbol of American fashion and industry. As Kaur explains, Gap is using their cultural, political, and social capital to take a stand. By representing a Sikh American in a turban in their biggest campaign of the holiday season, Gap is attempting to push Americans to change their perspectives and accept this turbaned model as one of their own.

As I was writing this blog entry, I couldn't help but question how much Gap really meant to challenge by launching this ad campaign. However, as I mulled over the subject more and more, I realized how big of a risk Gap was taking in publishing this ad. Anyone who has ever taken a marketing class (as I am sure most of the Gap advertising executives have) knows to use models that look like the people to whom they are trying to market (or a more beautiful version of the target group, as the case may be). Sure, they may have gained a lot of Sikh customers, but they could also potentially lose customers who rely too heavily on the Oriental stereotypes relayed by the media and wider American culture. Therefore, it was shocking for many to see this advertisement that challenged our general expectations of what would appear on an ad for a so-called “all American company,” thus reinforcing my decision that Gap was, in fact, taking a risk and taking a stand.

Kaur addresses fear, stereotypes, and structural and symbolic violence that occur to us or by us every single day. “In daily encounters, our minds default to stereotypes we have unwittingly absorbed. The most dangerous racial stereotypes trigger fear and animosity -- for example, African-Americans as "criminal," Latinos as "illegal," or Muslims and Sikhs as "terrorist." Once a person is reduced to a stereotype, it becomes easier to harm them, or to permit harm to be done to them.”

Both Neil and the Gap work for a common goal- to break down the harsh stereotypes that exist throughout the US and beyond. Instead of trying to blend in with the other Americans or with other American companies, both Neil and the Gap took a step forward by attempting to alter the stereotypes held by their fellow Americans. Although they may not realize it, both worked to reduce the fear of the “other” oriental, structural violence, and symbolic violence.