Living with the Muslim Hum

Even more dispiriting, many do not want to hear the Muslim hum for what it is, instead attributing it to other sources or re-interpreting it as something it is not. Perhaps the hum is only an auditory hallucination or, for those with ears differently attuned, the hum is “really” a sweet and appealing melody. Robert Spencer recounts a recent instance of such a convenient transposition, involving a young woman affiliated with Georgetown University’s Saudi-funded Alwaleed bin Talal Center for Muslim-Christian Understanding. She was photographed at a Washington demonstration carrying a sign reading: “I’m a Christian and I LOVE the Quran.” The woman presumably believes, Spencer comments, “that Jesus is the Son of God, the Second Person of the Trinity, who was crucified and rose from the dead for the salvation of the human race. Yet she is professing love for a book that not only denies all of that, but also insists that Christians are accursed, vile beings who should be waged war against until they submit to the hegemony of a group that believes differently.”

This may be an unaccommodating thing to say, but what one tends to find among the temporizers is a particularly daunting combination of ignorance, stupidity and self-infatuation. Such people do not want to recognize the peril before them since that would require the impulse to think, which is always hard, and the courage to act, which is never easy. Meanwhile, it’s obvious that ear mufflers won’t work against the Muslim detonations. Living beside a construction site is bad enough; living in a destruction site is infinitely worse.

Yet escape to the countryside, so to speak, is not a viable proposition either. There are fewer and fewer places to move so that we may go about our daily business without apprehension or tumult. Even in those places where we are not physically molested, the Muslim hum in the background or interstices of our lives is ubiquitous, and there is no lightworker that can still the malign resonance. As I mentioned, I hear Islam as a manifestation of sonic anxiety, not simply in the form of Arabic spoken in the marketplace or as heavily inflected threats delivered on the phone, but as a sort of aural disquiet, almost like highway hum.

In this case, the only expedient available to us may be not to move but to remove, not to relocate but to dislocate the origin of our malaise as best as we are able—that is, to shut down the terror mosques, deport radical imams, professors and government officials, furnish our intelligence community with the freedom and resources necessary to effectively police the jihadist network, investigate Middle East Studies departments in our universities with a view to disarming them, de-license the majority of Islamic organizations both on campus and in society at large, and rethink our immigration policies with the intention of closing loopholes and securing our borders.

Of course, a defensive policy of this nature, while it will not entirely expunge the threat we confront or damp the hum so that it fades into the realm of the subliminal and is no longer an impediment to our peace, demands a sensible and trustworthy executive and an enlightened electorate, neither of which are currently much in evidence.

Failing such measures, for those of us who have grown weary of the cochlear menace and enjoy the means and the opportunity, emigration to a Muslim-free zone, wherever we may find one, may be the only solution.

(Artwork created using a modified image.)