My inbox is full of hate mails and personal abuse and has been for years. In 2010, I started answering those mails and suggesting to the writer that we might meet for coffee and a chat. I have had hundreds of encounters. They have taught me something important that I want to share with you.
Moje sanduče je puno mejlova mržnje i zlostavljanja i to je tako godinama. Godine 2010. sam počela na njih da odgovaram i predlažem pošiljaocu da bismo mogli da se nađemo na kafi i razgovoru. Imala sam stotine susreta. I oni su me naučili nečemu važnom što želim da podelim sa vama.
I was born in Turkey from Kurdish parents and we moved to Denmark when I was a young child. In 2007, I ran for a seat in the Danish parliament as one of the first women with a minority background. I was elected, but I soon found out that not everyone was happy about it as I had to quickly get used to finding hate messages in my inbox. Those emails would begin with something like this: "What's a raghead like you doing in our parliament?" I never answered. I'd just delete the emails. I just thought that the senders and I had nothing in common. They didn't understand me, and I didn't understand them. Then one day, one of my colleagues in the parliament said that I should save the hate mails. "When something happens to you, it will give the police a lead."
Rođena sam u Turskoj u porodici Kurda, a preselili smo se u Dansku kada sam bila dete. Godine 2007, kandidovala sam se za mesto u danskom parlamentu kao jedna od prvih žena manjinske pripadnosti. Izabrana sam, ali sam uskoro saznala da nisu svi bili srećni zbog toga jer sam ubrzo morala da se naviknem na poruke mržnje u svom sandučetu. One bi počinjale ovako: „Šta turbandžija kao ti radi u našem parlamentu?“ Nisam odgovarala. Samo bih obrisala poruke. Mislila sam da pošiljaoci i ja nemamo ništa zajedničko. Nisu me razumeli, a ni ja njih. Jednog dana, koleginica iz parlamenta mi je rekla da bi trebalo da sačuvam poruke. „Kada ti se nešto desi, policija će imati trag.“
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
I noticed that she said, "When something happens" and not "if."
Rekla je „Kada se desi“, a ne „ako“.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
Sometimes hateful letters were also sent to my home address. The more I became involved in public debate, the more hate mail and threats I received. After a while, I got a secret address and I had to take extra precautions to protect my family. Then in 2010, a Nazi began to harass me. It was a man who had attacked Muslim women on the street. Over time, it became much worse. I was at the zoo with my children, and the phone was ringing constantly. It was the Nazi. I had the impression that he was close. We headed home. When we got back, my son asked, "Why does he hate you so much, Mom, when he doesn't even know you?" "Some people are just stupid," I said. And at the time, I actually thought that was a pretty clever answer. And I suspect that that is the answer most of us would give. The others -- they are stupid, brainwashed, ignorant. We are the good guys and they are the bad guys, period.
Ponekad bi mi pisma mržnje stizala na kućnu adresu. Što sam više bila uključena u javnu debatu, više poruka mržnje i pretnji sam dobijala. Posle nekog vremena, dobila sam tajnu adresu, i preduzela sam mere opreza da bih zaštitila porodicu. Godine 2010. jedan Nacista je počeo da me uznemirava. Bio je to čovek koji je napao Muslimanku na ulici. Vremenom je postalo mnogo gore. Bila sam u zoo vrtu sa decom, a telefon je non-stop zvonio. Bio je taj Nacista. Imala sam utisak da je blizu. Krenuli smo kući. Kada smo se vratili, sin me je pitao: „Mama, zašto te toliko mrzi, kada te i ne poznaje?“ „Neki ljudi su prosto glupi“, rekla sam. Tada sam mislila da je to prilično pametan odgovor. Verovatno bi većina nas to rekla. Drugi su glupi, ispran im je mozak i neuki su. Mi smo dobri, a oni loši ljudi, i tačka.
Several weeks later I was at a friend's house, and I was very upset and angry about all the hate and racism I had met. It was he who suggested that I should call them up and visit them. "They will kill me," I said. "They would never attack a member of the Danish Parliament," he said. "And anyway, if they killed you, you would become a martyr."
Nekoliko nedelja kasnije, bila sam kod prijatelja, veoma uznemirena i ljuta zbog te mržnje i rasizma. On je predložio da pozovem te ljude i posetim ih. „Ubiće me“, rekla sam. „Nikada ne bi napali članicu danskog parlamenta,“ rekao je. „A čak i ako te ubiju, postala bi mučenica.“
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
"So it's pure win-win situation for you."
„Ti dobijaš u svakom slučaju.“
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
His advice was so unexpected, when I got home, I turned on my computer and opened the folder where I had saved all the hate mail. There were literally hundreds of them. Emails that started with words like "terrorist," "raghead," "rat," "whore." I decided to contact the one who had sent me the most. His name was Ingolf. I decided to contact him just once so I could say at least I had tried. To my surprise and shock, he answered the phone. I blurted out, "Hello, my name is Özlem. You have sent me so many hate mails. You don't know me, I don't know you. I was wondering if I could come around and we can drink a coffee together and talk about it?"
Njegov savet je bio tako neočekivan, pa sam, kada sam stigla kući, upalila računar i otvorila folder sa porukama. Bukvalno ih je bilo na stotine. Poruke su počinjale sa „teroristo“, „turbandžijo“ „pacove“, „kurvo.“ Kontaktirala sam onog koji mi je poslao najviše poruka. Zvao se Ingolf. Kontaktirala sam ga samo jednom da mogu da kažem da sam bar probala. Na moje iznenađenje i šok, javio se. Izbrbljala sam: „Zdravo, ja sam Ozlem. Poslali ste mi toliko poruka mržnje. Ne znate me, ja ne znam Vas. Da li bih mogla da svratim na kafu i da popričamo?“
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
There was silence on the line. And then he said, "I have to ask my wife."
S druge strane je bila tišina. A onda je rekao: „Moram da pitam suprugu.“
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
What? The racist has a wife?
Šta? Rasista ima suprugu?
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
A couple of days later, we met at his house. I will never forget when he opened his front door and reached out to shake my hand. I felt so disappointed.
Par dana kasnije sreli smo se kod njega. Nikada neću zaboraviti kada je otvorio vrata i pružio mi ruku. Bila sam razočarana.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
because he looked nothing like I'd imagined. I had expected a horrible person -- dirty, messy house. It was not. His house smelled of coffee which was served from a coffee set identical to the one my parents used. I ended up staying for two and a half hours. And we had so many things in common. Even our prejudices were alike.
Nije izgledao kako sam zamišljala. Očekivala sam užasnu osobu - prljavu, neurednu kuću. A nije bila. Mirisala je na kafu posluženu u šoljicama kakve su moji roditelji koristili. Na kraju sam ostala dva i po sata. Imali smo mnogo toga zajedničkog. Čak i predrasude.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
Ingolf told me that when he waits for the bus and the bus stops 10 meters away from him, it was because the driver was a "raghead." I recognized that feeling. When I was young and I waited for the bus and it stopped 10 meters away from me, I was sure that the driver was a racist.
Rekao mi je da kada čeka autobus i on stane 10 metara od njega, to je zato što je vozač „turbandžija“. Bio mi je poznat taj osećaj. Kada sam bila mlada i čekala autobus, a on stane 10 metara od mene, bila bih sigurna da je vozač rasista.
When I got home, I was very ambivalent about my experience. On the one hand, I really liked Ingolf. He was easy and pleasant to talk to, but on the other hand, I couldn't stand the idea of having so much in common with someone who had such clearly racist views. Gradually, and painfully, I came to realize that I had been just as judgmental of those who had sent me hate mails as they had been of me.
Kada sam stigla kući, bila sam ambivalentna prema tom iskustvu. S jedne strane, svideo mi se Ingolf. Bilo je lako i prijatno pričati s njim, a s druge strane, nije mi se svidelo što imam toliko zajedničkog sa nekim ko je imao rasistička gledišta. Postepeno, i bolno, shvatila sam da sam osuđivala one koji su mi slali poruke mržnje kao što su i oni mene.
This was the beginning of what I call #dialoguecoffee. Basically, I sit down for coffee with people who have said the most terrible things to me to try to understand why they hate people like me when they don't even know me. I have been doing this the last eight years. The vast majority of people I approach agree to meet me. Most of them are men, but I have also met women. I have made it a rule to always meet them in their house to convey from the outset that I trust them. I always bring food because when we eat together, it is easier to find what we have in common and make peace together.
To je bio početak #razgovorauzkafu. U suštini, idem na kafu sa ljudima koji su mi rekli grozne stvari da bih razumela zašto mrze ljude kao što sam ja kada me čak i ne poznaju. To radim već osam godina. Većina ljudi je pristala da se vidi sa mnom. Većina njih su muškarci, ali je bilo i žena. Donela sam pravilo da se uvek srećemo kod njih da im odmah dam do znanja da im verujem. Uvek donesem hranu, jer, kada jedemo zajedno, lakše je naći sličnosti među nama i zajednički jezik.
Along the way, I have learned some valuable lessons. The people who sent hate mails are workers, husbands, wives, parents like you and me. I'm not saying that their behavior is acceptable, but I have learned to distance myself from the hateful views without distancing myself from the person who's expressing those views. And I have discovered that the people I visit are just as afraid of people they don't know as I was afraid of them before I started inviting myself for coffee.
Usput sam naučila neke važne lekcije. Ljudi koji šalju poruke mržnje su radnici, muževi, supruge, roditelji kao vi i ja. Ne kažem da je njihovo ponašanje prihvatljivo, ali sam naučila da se distanciram od mrskih gledišta, a da se ne distanciram od osobe koja ih izražava. I otkrila sam da se ti ljudi isto plaše nepoznatih ljudi kao što sam se i ja njih plašila pre nego što sam počela da se pozivam na kafu.
During these meetings, a specific theme keeps coming up. It shows up regardless whether I'm talking to a humanist or a racist, a man, a woman, a Muslim or an atheist. They all seem to think that other people are to blame for the hate and for the generalization of groups. They all believe that other people have to stop demonizing. They point at politicians, the media, their neighbor or the bus driver who stops 10 meters away. But when I asked, "What about you? What can you do?", the reply is usually, "What can I do? I have no influence. I have no power." I know that feeling. For a large part of my life, I also thought that I didn't have any power or influence -- even when I was a member of the Danish parliament. But today I know the reality is different. We all have power and influence where we are, so we must never, never underestimate our own potential.
Tokom tih susreta uvek iskrsne jedna tema. Bez obzira na to da li pričam sa humanistom ili rasistom, muškarcem, ženom, Muslimanom ili ateistom. Izgleda da svi misle da su drugi ljudi krivi za mržnju i generalizaciju grupa. Svi oni veruju da drugi moraju da prestanu da demonizuju. Upiru prstom u političare, medije, komšije ili vozača autobusa koji staje 10 metara od vas. Ali kada sam pitala: „Šta je sa vama? Šta vi možete uraditi?“, odgovor je uglavnom: „Šta mogu da uradim? Ja nemam uticaj. Ja nemam moć.“ Poznat mi je taj osećaj. Veliki deo svog života, i ja sam mislila da nemam moć ili uticaj - čak i kao članica danskog parlamenta. Ali realnost je danas drugačija. Svi imamo moć i uticaj, zato ne smemo nikada, ali nikada, potcenjivati svoj potencijal.
The #dialoguecoffee meetings have taught me that people of all political convictions can be caught demonizing the others with different views. I know what I'm talking about. As a young child, I hated different population groups. And at the time, my religious views were very extreme. But my friendship with Turks, with Danes, with Jews and with racists has vaccinated me against my own prejudices. I grew up in a working-class family, and on my journey I have met many people who have insisted on speaking to me. They have changed my views. They have formed me as a democratic citizen and a bridge builder. If you want to prevent hate and violence, we have to talk to as many people as possible for as long as possible while being as open as possible. That can only be achieved through debate, critical conversation and insisting on dialogue that doesn't demonize people.
Ovi #razgovoriuzkafu su me naučili da ljudi svih političkih ubeđenja mogu da demonizuju one sa drugačijim gledištima. Znam o čemu govorim. Kao dete, mrzela sam razne populacijske grupe. Tada su moja verska uverenja bila vrlo ekstremna. Ali moje prijateljstvo sa Turcima, Dancima, Jevrejima i rasistima vakcinisalo me je protiv sopstvenih predrasuda. Odrasla sam u radničkoj porodici, i do sada sam srela mnoge ljude koji su insistirali da pričaju sa mnom. Oni su promenili moja gledišta. Napravili su od mene demokratu koji pravi mostove među ljudima. Ako želite da sprečite mržnju i nasilje, morate pričati sa što više ljudi što je duže moguće, a da ste pritom što otvoreniji. To se postiže jedino debatom, kritičkim razgovorom i insistiranjem na dijalogu koji ne demonizuje ljude.
I'm going to ask you a question. I invite you to think about it when you get home and in the coming days, but you have to be honest with yourself. It should be easy, no one else will know it. The question is this ... who do you demonize? Do you think supporters of American President Trump are deplorables? Or that those who voted for Turkish President Erdoğan are crazy Islamists? Or that those who voted for Le Pen in France are stupid fascists? Or perhaps you think that Americans who voted for Bernie Sanders are immature hippies.
Postaviću vam pitanje. Razmislite o tome kada dođete kući i narednih dana, ali morate biti iskreni prema sebi. Trebalo bi da je lako, i niko neće znati. Evo ga pitanje... Koga vi demonizujete? Da li mislite da su Trampove pristalice jadnici? Ili da su Erdoganovi glasači ludi islamisti? Ili da su oni koji su glasali za Le Pen u Francuskoj glupi fašisti? Ili možda mislite da su Amerikanci koji su glasali za Bernija Sandersa nezreli hipici?
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
All those words have been used to vilify those groups. Maybe at this point, do you think I am an idealist?
Sve te reči su se koristile da ocrne te grupe. Možda sada mislite da sam idealista?
I want to give you a challenge. Before the end of this year, I challenge you to invite someone who you demonize -- someone who you disagree with politically and/or culturally and don't think you have anything in common with. I challenge you to invite someone like this to #dialoguecoffee. Remember Ingolf? Basically, I'm asking you to find an Ingolf in your life, contact him or her and suggest that you can meet for #dialoguecofee.
Dajem vam izazov. Do kraja godine, izazivam vas da pozovete nekog kog demonizujete - nekog sa kim se ne slažete politički i/ili kulturno i sa kim mislite da nemate ništa zajedničko. Izazivam vas da takvu osobu pozovete na #razgovoruzkafu. Sećate se Ingolfa? U suštini, tražim da nađete Ingolfa u svom životu, da kontaktirate njega ili nju i predložite susret.
When you start at #dialoguecoffee, you have to remember this: first, don't give up if the person refuses at first. Sometimes it's taken me nearly one year to arrange a #dialoguecoffee meeting. Two: acknowledge the other person's courage. It isn't just you who's brave. The one who's inviting you into their home is just as brave. Three: don't judge during the conversation. Make sure that most of the conversation focuses on what you have in common. As I said, bring food. And finally, remember to finish the conversation in a positive way because you are going to meet again. A bridge can't be built in one day.
Kada počnete sa njima morate zapamtiti ovo: prvo, ne odustajte ako vas prvo odbije. Ponekad mi je trebalo i do godinu dana da dogovorim #razgovoruzkafu. Drugo: pozdravite hrabrost te osobe. Niste samo vi hrabri. Već i osoba koja vas poziva u svoj dom. Treće: ne osuđujte tokom razgovora. Pobrinite se da se većina razgovora vodi o onome što vam je zajedničko. Kao što sam rekla, ponesite hranu. I na kraju, završite razgovor pozitivno jer ćete se sresti ponovo. Most se ne može sagraditi za jedan dan.
We are living in a world where many people hold definitive and often extreme opinions about the others without knowing much about them. We notice of course the prejudices on the other side than in our own bases. And we ban them from our lives. We delete the hate mails. We hang out only with people who think like us and talk about the others in a category of disdain. We unfriend people on Facebook, and when we meet people who are discriminating or dehumanizing people or groups, we don't insist on speaking with them to challenge their opinions. That's how healthy democratic societies break down -- when we don't check the personal responsibility for the democracy. We take the democracy for granted. It is not. Conversation is the most difficult thing in a democracy and also the most important.
Živimo u svetu u kome mnogi ljudi imaju konačna i ekstremna mišljenja o drugima iako ih ne poznaju. Primećujemo predrasude kod drugih, ali ne kod sebe. I zabranjujemo ih u svojim životima. Brišemo poruke mržnje. Družimo se samo sa istomišljenicima i pričamo o drugima sa prezirom. Brišemo ljude sa Fejsbuka, a kada upoznamo ljude koji diskriminišu ili dehumanizuju ljude ili grupe, ne insistiramo na razgovoru sa njima da izazovemo njihovo mišljenje. Tako zdrava demokratska društva pucaju - kada ne prihvatimo ličnu odgovornost za demokratiju. Uzimamo demokratiju zdravo za gotovo. A ne treba. Razgovor je najteža stvar u demokratiji ali i najvažnija.
So here's my challenge. Find your Ingolf.
Evo mog izazova. Nađite svog Ingolfa.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
Start a conversation. Trenches have been dug between people, yes, but we all have the ability to build the bridges that cross the trenches.
Započnite razgovor. Rovovi su kopani među ljudima, da, ali svi možemo da gradimo mostove preko tih rovova.
And let me end by quoting my friend, Sergeot Uzan, who lost his son, Dan Uzan, in a terror attack on a Jewish synagogue in Copenhagen, 2015. Sergio rejected any suggestion of revenge and instead said this ... "Evil can only be defeated by kindness between people. Kindness demands courage." Dear friends, let's be courageous.
Završiću citirajući prijatelja, Seržota Uzana, koji je izgubio sina, Dena Uzana, u terorističkom napadu na jevrejsku sinagogu u Kopenhagenu, 2015. godine. Seržot je odbio predloge o osveti i, umesto toga, rekao: „Zlo se može pobediti jedino dobrotom među ljudima. Dobrota zahteva hrabrost.“ Dragi prijatelji, budimo hrabri.
Thank you.
Hvala vam.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)