The Arizona Republic

9/11 hate crime victim’s brother pushes for peace

- Joshua Bowling

“I hope this country can be changed. It’s taking time.” Rana Singh Sodhi Brother of hate crime victim Balbir Singh Sodhi

Balbir Singh Sodhi wanted to hold a news conference.

The U.S. was gripped by tragedy on Sept. 11, 2001, in the aftermath of terrorist attacks in New York, Pennsylvan­ia and Washington, D.C. TV coverage showed footage of the towers collapsing alongside images of Osama Bin Laden — the militant co-founder of al-Qaeda who wore a turban and a long beard. By calling a news conference, Singh Sodhi could educate Arizonans about the people in their communitie­s who wore turbans and beards.

He could show them that these people believed in peace. He could show them that followers of his religion, Sikhism, were not the same as the people on TV just because they wore turbans and beards.

But he did not get to hold that news conference. Instead, the 50-year-old east Mesa gas station owner was shot and killed by a man who said he was a “patriot” and openly talked about his plan to shoot people in turbans.

Balbir Singh Sodhi became the country’s first hate crime victim after 9/11, just four days after the terrorist attacks.

Rana Singh Sodhi, his brother, has spent the past 20 years working to foster peace and warn people of the dangers of hate by sharing Balbir’s story.

He’s seen progress, like the time he spoke to Balbir’s murderer on the phone and heard him apologize for killing Balbir.

And he’s seen setbacks, like the recent announceme­nt that hate crime in the U.S. is at its highest point since 2008.

“I hope this country can be changed,” Singh Sodhi said. “It’s taking time.”

FBI: Hate crimes in America highest since 2008

Hate crimes in the U.S. reached the highest point in more than a decade, according to newly released FBI data.

The data isn’t a full picture of hate crimes in America. The feds did not actually track hate crimes against Sikhs and some other groups until 2015.

Last year was the worst for hate crimes in America since 2008. AntiAsian hate crimes surged nationally to 274 in 2020 from 161 in 2019, but antiBlack hate crimes made up the largest single share year after year.

Since 2000, the data breaks down like this:

● 2000: 8,207 reported hate crimes in the U.S. Anti-Black hate crimes made up the largest portion, with 2,936 reported incidents. Anti-Sikh hate crimes were not tracked separately until 2015.

● 2010: 6,633 reported hate crimes in the U.S. Anti-Black hate crimes made up the largest portion, with 2,202 reported incidents. Anti-Sikh hate crimes were not tracked separately until 2015.

● 2020: 7,759 reported hate crimes in the U.S. Anti-Black hate crimes made up the largest portion, with 2,755 reported incidents. There were 67 reported anti-Sikh hate crimes.

Hate crimes peaked in Arizona in 2001, with 386 reported incidents. The past two decades break down like this:

● 2000: 281 reported hate crimes. Anti-Black hate crimes made up the largest portion, with 89 incidents. Anti-Sikh hate crimes were not tracked yet.

● 2010: 236 reported hate crimes. Anti-Black hate crimes made up the largest portion, with 80 incidents. Anti-Sikh hate crimes were not tracked yet.

● 2020: 282 reported hate crimes. Anti-Black hate crimes made up the largest portion, with 114 incidents.

“Americans were a more tolerant society during most of the Obama administra­tion. They started ramping up bias crimes as they got near the end and during the Trump years.”

Jon Gould

Director of Arizona State University’s School of Criminolog­y and Criminal Justice

There were two anti-Sikh hate crimes.

Jon Gould, director of Arizona State University’s School of Criminolog­y and Criminal Justice, said the increase isn’t just a spike in hate crime — the way the crimes are reported plays a part.

Reporting hate crimes has become more accessible over the years and law enforcemen­t agencies have improved the ways they track hate crimes, he said.

The hate crime data doesn’t show every hate crime that’s occurred in America. Victims need to be willing to report the crime and law enforcemen­t agencies have to investigat­e it and determine if hate actually was a driving factor in the crime.

While the data isn’t a full picture of hate in America, Gould calls it a “thermomete­r” for the country. It may not show every single hate crime that’s happened, but it’s useful for identifyin­g trends.

In general, reported hate crimes dipped during the Obama administra­tion. As the campaign for the 2016 election began and the Trump administra­tion took over, hate crimes increased.

Gould, a former U.S. Department of Justice policy adviser and author of a book on hate speech, said hate crimes usually stem from one of two behaviors: people trying to exercise power over others, or people fearful that they’ll lose their power over others.

“Americans were a more tolerant society during most of the Obama administra­tion. They started ramping up bias crimes as they got near the end and during the Trump years,” Gould said. “I don’t know that it reflects on Americans being more tolerant or less tolerant, but it certainly does suggest that people who are interested or willing to commit hate crimes were more likely to.”

Gould likens hate crime reporting to the #MeToo movement. Behavior that could be reported as sexual harassment today may not have been reported 20 years ago; it may have been written off as a bad joke, or victims may have feared retaliatio­n if they reported it.

The same goes for hate crimes, he said.

An increase in hate crimes and a cause for hope

Despite the increase in hate crimes, advocates see cause for optimism.

Satjeet Kaur, executive director of the Sikh Coalition, which was founded on Sept. 11, 2001, to advocate for Sikh communitie­s in the face of hate, said there’s a silver lining to the bad news. Hate crimes have increased in the past two decades, but there are more resources available for people who need them.

“Things are actually worse. But how our community is able to handle incidents of hate and violence … is the silver lining,” she said.

Kaur points to positive changes. Twenty years ago, Sikhs were not included in federal hate crime data as their own category. Now they are.

Twenty years ago, Sikhism was not part of Arizona’s social studies educationa­l standards. Now it is.

“I am fundamenta­lly proud of the progress this community has made … Is it enough? No, not at all,” Kaur said. “But has there been progress? I need to fundamenta­lly believe that there has been.”

In 2001, the US and Afghanista­n dominated the news. The same is true in 2021

With the threat of hate comes anxiety. For Sikhs in America, it’s hard to not draw parallels between 2001 and 2021.

In 2001, the so-called “war on terror” dominated the cable news cycle. There were stories of the U.S. invasion of Afghanista­n and the fundamenta­list Taliban’s ouster.

In 2021, the stories are mirror images of those. They’ve shown the frenzied U.S. withdrawal and the Taliban’s dramatic return to power.

Singh Sodhi said the political climate feels like it did 20 years ago.

“My wife (tells) me, ‘Watch yourself when you go out,’” he said. “Because I always have a turban and I always have a beard.”

Valarie Kaur, an activist, filmmaker and friend of Singh Sodhi’s, said she feels the same. When she turned on the news on 9/11, she knew Sikhs and Muslims in America would be targeted.

“I remember watching the towers fall and then seeing an image of Osama Bin Laden and thinking that our nation’s new enemy looks like my family,” she said.

Hate crimes against Muslims and Sikhs were often characteri­zed as backlash for the 9/11 terrorist attacks, she said. But 20 years later, that so-called backlash hasn’t ended.

“We called it the backlash because we perceived it as an immediate response to 9/11 that we thought would die down,” she said. “Hate after 9/11 never fell to the levels they were at before 9/11. The backlash simply never ended.”

In east Mesa, a ‘second ground zero’

Kaur, who lives in California, met Singh Sodhi and his family after Balbir’s murder.

She’s spent the years since telling Balbir’s story.

She made the documentar­y “Divided We Fall: Americans in the Aftermath,” which tells the story of people affected by hate crimes in America after 9/11.

Sharing Balbir’s story has been a journey for both Kaur and Singh Sodhi.

Over the years, Singh Sodhi has forged relationsh­ips in every corner of Arizona and the country. He was invited to the White House during the Obama administra­tion. He considers U.S. Rep. Greg Stanton a personal friend and is proud of the work Stanton has done to promote tolerance, peace and love.

During one visit to Arizona, Kaur asked Singh Sodhi if he’d be willing to do something unconventi­onal: call his brother’s murderer.

Singh Sodhi points to that day as a crucial step forward.

“He said: ‘I’m so sorry I killed your brother ... when I die, if I see God, I want to say to God that I want to see your brother and say sorry to him,’” he said. “That person seemed like he changed.”

After 20 years of education and working toward peace, Singh Sodhi is prepared to keep going.

Every year on Sept. 15, he visits Balbir’s east Mesa gas station, now run by Balbir’s son, and holds a memorial for his brother.

And every year on Sept. 15, Kaur sits outside the gas station and closes her eyes. She promises Balbir that she will share his story with the world.

She’ll make that promise again on Wednesday.

She calls the gas station “the second ground zero.”

“It is the ground zero for all the people who have been killed or harmed by the way our nation reacted to 9/11. He was the first,” she said. “There are no barricades, there are no grand monuments at that gas station. I see it as a pilgrimage.”

Every year, a memorial at Balbir’s gas station

Singh Sodhi has been joined by dozens, sometimes hundreds, of people at Balbir’s gas station. Over the years, he’s stood there with politician­s, with activists, with friends and with family.

And this time, anyone will be able to attend. It will be livestream­ed for the first time on 911hub.org.

Singh Sodhi said he is inspired by the people who came before him in the fight for equality in America.

Change, when it happens, is incrementa­l. It never feels like enough in the moment. Its slow pace is discouragi­ng.

But any change for the better, to Singh Sodhi, is cause for hope.

“When I see Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream, Rosa Park’s dream to ride a bus — their peaceful education changed this country’s people,” Singh Sodhi said. “One day, it can change, if every person does their part.”

 ?? PHOTOS BY MONICA D. SPENCER/THE REPUBLIC ?? Rana Singh Sodhi stands with a hand-drawn portrait of his brother, Balbir, who was murdered days after 9/11. Singh Sodhi said the portrait was gifted to him in 2017 by a student at one of the schools he visited.
PHOTOS BY MONICA D. SPENCER/THE REPUBLIC Rana Singh Sodhi stands with a hand-drawn portrait of his brother, Balbir, who was murdered days after 9/11. Singh Sodhi said the portrait was gifted to him in 2017 by a student at one of the schools he visited.
 ??  ?? Rana Singh Sodhi shows a plaque he received in 2012 from Asian Pacific Community in Action in recognitio­n of his efforts to foster peace and understand­ing.
Rana Singh Sodhi shows a plaque he received in 2012 from Asian Pacific Community in Action in recognitio­n of his efforts to foster peace and understand­ing.
 ?? MONICA D. SPENCER/THE REPUBLIC ?? Rana Singh Sodhi sits for a portrait outside his Mesa home on Sept. 6.
MONICA D. SPENCER/THE REPUBLIC Rana Singh Sodhi sits for a portrait outside his Mesa home on Sept. 6.

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