Almost 10 years ago, as I took my seat on the plane, I began mentally preparing myself for a very long journey from Vancouver in Canada to Amsterdam in the Netherlands. This was the longest flight being served by the Dutch carrier KLM.
I was thankful and happy after attending my son Khalid’s university graduation ceremony and was full of joy to see him ready for his next adventure in professional life. I closed my eyes, smiled and sighed while taking a long and deep breath.
Suddenly, an elderly gentleman seated next to me asked me in a soft and gentle tone: “Is everything OK?” I said: “Yes, all is well.” He was a small-made man, either in his late seventies or early eighties. He had the clearly undeniable features of a man from the Indian subcontinent. His receding, salt-and-pepper hairline added to his dignified demeanour.
I told him that I was attending my son’s graduation from university, and that it was a very special occasion for me. He smiled and said that he was attending his great granddaughter’s graduation from university as well. Then he asked me where I was from. To which, I answered: “Saudi Arabia.”
He smiled and said: “So you are a Muslim.” He added: “I am from Brighton, England. I am a Muslim also, an Ismaeli.” I was surprised, even taken back. It was a reflex reaction, as this was the first time that I had met an Ismaeli.
He saw my reaction and found it funny, and familiar I assume, and said to me: “Don’t worry about it, my friend. We all report to the same CEO.”
His words, I must admit, hit me like a thunderbolt. They shook me from within. I have never heard before such a profound, deep and holistic, yet simple, explanation for tolerance.
I have read books and articles, attended lectures, forums and symposiums, watched movies, and listened to songs on the subject. But nothing managed to bring this wonderful insight to my attention the way this wise, old and kind Indian gentleman did.
I took notes of the conversation I had with him, and added other relevant thoughts, which I promised myself I would revisit when necessary.
Fast forward to a few long months later, when I was a keynote speaker at a business luncheon in the Czech capital, Prague. The theme of the event was “Business opportunities between Eastern Europe and the Middle East”. Attendees included business leaders and diplomats mainly from the Czech Republic and some neighbouring countries.
During the time the event was being organised, there was a great amount of negative media coverage on the Middle East. Some attendees were very sceptical about doing business with “the foreigners”, as Arabs were being described by some at the event.
I sensed that many attendees would not be receptive to my speech, to say the least. I wanted to win them over quickly and build an “instant trust bridge”. So I decided to start my speech to this tough crowd with my wise Indian gentleman’s story on that KLM flight.
When I uttered the words “we all report to the same CEO”, I was stunned by the reaction of the crowd. There was sincere applause, and I was encouraged by the look in many of their eyes. When I was done, a young and famous celebrity, a Czech entrepreneur, walked up to me and said: “I came to this event hating your people and was forced to come [to the luncheon] by a friend of mine. But what you said was a huge wake-up call and I wanted to thank you for it.”
Hate and intolerance are a matter of choice that we make. But if we truly manage to force ourselves to reflect on the greater picture from above, a new perspective develops that, then, changes many of our perceptions. That, in and of itself, is not a bad thing.
