Like many people, I first learnt of the terrible events in Paris on Twitter. Twitter is at its best when alerting users to breaking news and it took little time to notify its millions of members to the deadly attacks on November 13.
Yet, as the minutes ticked by, Twitter, and Facebook, predictably erupted into fevered speculation and conjecture. Unfortunately, this took the shape of ill-founded declarations that betrayed a wish to indulge in old-fashioned political point -scoring.
“Does France closing borders imply terrorists are not ‘home-grown’ but incomers taking advantage of current migrant crisis?” wrote Suzanne Evans, deputy chairman of the anti-EU and immigration-sceptic UK Independence Party, on Twitter on the night of the tragedy.
It didn’t take long for Islam itself to become the target. Marine Le Pen, leader of France’s far-right National Front, told reporters the day after the attacks that the country had to shut down mosques and expel dangerous foreigners and illegal immigrants.
Others followed suit. “Close down all mosques, madrasas, ban the hijab, burka & all religious displays in public. People dying due to this alien religion,” tweeted former Ukip parliamentary candidate Adrian Howard.
Even the owner of an English beauty salon, April Major, took to Facebook to declare that it was “time to put my country first” and that her business was “no longer taking bookings from anyone from the Islamic faith”.
It is often the intolerant and ignorant who make the most noise. Indeed, as right-wing commentators swamped social media, many pushing their blogs denouncing Islam and calling on “moderate” Muslims worldwide to condemn the Paris attacks (as if joining a mass mea culpa is now a prerequisite for being a Muslim), one could sense that the Paris atrocities had presented another opportunity for the narrow-minded to grind the proverbial axes.
Few would argue with the notion that Europe’s relationship with Islam is hardly at its most harmonious or most stable. Yet, across the continent, including in France, respect remains for its well-established and dynamic Muslim population.
Perhaps the most poignant example of this is the very quiet resettling of Syrian refugees in Scotland – most particularly on the Isle of Bute off the country’s west coast. Without fanfare or hysteria, this island of 6,300 people is welcoming 15 families, including about 50 children, in the coming weeks.
Local disenchantment has been at a minimum and Craig Borland, editor of local paper The Buteman, said in a column: "I want Bute to be a place where people who come here with little more than the clothes they are standing in can feel safe and at home."
A Bute resident told The Guardian: "I can't wait to taste Syrian food. Once they're settled in, I want to ask them to have a Syrian food night in the church hall."
The November 17 edition of the pro-Scottish independence daily, The National (no relation), displayed an idyllic Scottish scene on its front page along with the words "Welcome to Scotland" for those Syrian refugees arriving at Glasgow Airport.
If the long and successful history of Arab immigration across the world is anything to go by, the Syrians will have little trouble adapting and contributing to the life of a small Scottish island.
Yet, just as Bute readied itself to give sanctuary to those fleeing violence, a mob of young hooligans seemingly used the Paris terrorist attacks as a justification to violently assault a Scots Muslim couple in another area of Scotland as they closed their takeaway shop. But attacks of this nature are not typical of – nor do they define – Scottish society, British society or even attitudes in much of Europe where Muslims have settled for generations.
Despite the actions of ISIL and, before it, Al Qaeda, it is not incumbent on ordinary decent Muslims to repeatedly defend their faith to the outside world. Most non-Muslims in Europe’s bustling towns and cities know this – and tacitly respect them for it.
Alasdair Soussi is a freelance journalist in Scotland and the Middle East
On Twitter: @AlasdairSoussi
