In January two gunmen forced their way into the Charlie Hebdo magazine headquarters and killed twelve people in retaliation for offensive pictures of the Prophet Muhammad published in the satirical French magazine. Tragedy and outrage filled the country as people mourned the loss of the 12 who had died protecting and exercising their right to free speech.
Residents of France, leaders from around the world and travelers from across the globe took to the streets of Paris, standing alongside one million others in the country’s largest demonstration. Some linked hands; others shed tears; all mourning the loss of 12 of their countrymen. As they walked, they held banners and chanted slogans; they wanted to  show the world and their attackers they would not be scared. “Je Suis Charlie”, “I am Charlie,” the people said. It was chanted and tweeted, instagrammed and vined. This one phrase, the ultimate embodiment of what they stood for: freedom, equality and brotherhood. Except it isn’t.

I am Charlie; on the surface, a seemingly meaningless phrase that’s easy to get behind. But in an attempt to show solidarity, many people have ironically added to the division and disunity in France.  Je Suis Charlie was never just about remembering the 12 who were killed; rather, it was a way to embrace the right to free speech, and in a greater sense, Western Culture. But people never stopped to think the phrase “I am Charlie” may mean vastly different things to different people. And while for many, it is a way to commemorate the fallen and to celebrate French culture, to others, the slogan “I am Charlie” represents the worst parts of French society.
The Charlie Hebdo magazine was one that specialized in publishing offensive and stereotypical depictions of many groups, and in the past years, its target was often Muslims. And while no one denies their right to free speech, the Charlie Hebdo magazine didn’t use their satire in any effective way. They didn’t use it as a tool to hold those in power responsible or to expose the flaws of a broken system. Rather, they used it to further mock and ridicule an already ostracized and humiliated group of French citizens. To vulnerable French minorities, specifically French Muslims, many of whom suffer from high levels of poverty and low levels of education, “Je Suis Charlie” embodies the continual humiliation, racism and prejudice they suffer in France, sometimes at the hands of the French government. To them, Je Suis Charlie is not a display of solidarity and unity, but rather it reinforces the differences and division already present in France.
Obviously the acts of those two gunmen were inexcusable. Not only is it completely barbaric to murder twelve innocent people, but it further escalates the very problem they hate: the continual racism and mockery felt by French minorities. And we, as a global community, do need to support freedom of expression, and we do need to commemorate the loss of those innocent people. But just because we support someone’s right to free speech, doesn’t mean we should support what they say. Terror and violence is never justified, but neither is prejudice and intolerance. It’s important to remember that both the people who publish the Charlie Hebdo magazine and the people who are offended by it are French. Both deserve rights and both deserve to be heard. In this case, both parties were wronged, yet the world only supported those who created, not those offended.
The way to fight terrorism is not by supporting and promoting acts of racism. I’m not saying the two acts are in any way equal, but nothing justifies trading one form of hatred and injustice for another. I mourn the loss of those twelve people who died, but I also mourn the continuance of racism felt by the people of France, which at times the Charlie Hebdo magazine promoted.  We need to fight to end violence and terrorism, but we also need to fight to end intolerance. We shouldn’t be terrorists, but we shouldn’t be Charlie Hebdos either.
By Humera Lodhi