A

few years ago, a friend
told me that she thought
the world would be a more

peaceful place without religion.
Considering all the violence that
has been committed in the name
of religion, from the Crusades
to 9/11, it’s an easy conclusion
to draw. As a Catholic, though,
the statement felt more like an
accusation, and it stung.

I was raised Catholic and

went to Catholic school for
most of my life, so Catholicism
is a central component of my
identity.
My
Catholicism,
my

religion, always promoted love,
tolerance, acceptance and peace.
My religion taught me to value
and cherish human life, so what
does the Lord’s Resistance Army
have to do with my Christianity?
Fundamentally, I felt that the
actions of others, in history
and present times, could not
define my religion. The way I
understand Jesus, his actions
and his message means that to
me, human life is sacred and
precious.
Thus,
anyone
who

claims to be Catholic but acts in a
way that disregards that value of
human life cannot be practicing
my Catholicism.

For
me,
my
faith
means

the opposite of violence and
hatred.
Having
my
religion,

and by extension, my values,
associated with the promotion
of violence and intolerance was
alienating and demeaning. The
same is likely true for hundreds
of millions of Muslims around
the globe when their religion is
deemed inherently violent by
pundits, respected publications
and the U.S. president-elect.

Recent
attacks
committed

by terrorist organizations who
preach a radical, violent version
of Islam have seemingly brought
the entire religion up for debate.
The question of whether Islam
is inherently violent has led
to discrimination against and
alienation of Muslims in the
West. In France, where many
terrorist attacks have occurred
in the name of ISIS, towns have
been banning Muslim women
from wearing burkinis at the
beach.
Despite
court
rulings

that mayors do not have the
right to ban burkinis, several
French
mayors
continued

to enforce the ban. In the
United States, as we know, our
president-elect responded to the
Orlando massacre by saying he
“appreciate(d) the congrats on
being right on radical Islamic

terrorism” and reiterating his
call
to
suspend
immigration

“from areas of the world when
there is a proven history of
terrorism
against
the
United

States, Europe or our allies.”

And
so,
fear
begets

discrimination. As one recent
ISIS defector put it, “we were
happy when Trump said bad
things about Muslims because
he makes it very clear that there
are two teams in this battle:
the Islamic team and the anti-
Islamic team.” Essentially, when
more than 1.6 billion Muslims are
grouped in with extremists and
Islam is painted as violent, we
are taking the bait and playing
right into ISIS’s hands.

But, if Islam is not violent,

how
should
we
understand

groups like ISIS? I think it’s
useful to look at the intersection
of violence and Islam the same
way I viewed the intersection of
violence and Christianity. Last
semester, I took a class called
“Anthropology of Islam,” and
the more I learned about Islam,
the
more
similarities
I
saw

between Islam and Christianity.
Both religions have sacred texts
that are at times conspicuously
violent
because
they
are

ultimately
products
of
their

times. But just as the Catholic
Church
promotes
pacifism

because it interprets the Bible
in a more nuanced manner, so
too do many Muslims interpret
Islamic texts in more intelligent
and holistic ways than ISIS does.

For example, I can read in

Exodus
35:2
that
someone

who works on the Sabbath Day
should be put to death, but I
can recognize the endorsement
of violence as an indication
that violence was tolerated in
6th-century
B.C.E.
Therefore,

I prefer to focus on the Bible
verses that encapsulate Jesus’s
values
and
promote
love,

peace and understanding, like
Galatians
5:22-23:
“The
fruit

of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,
forbearance, kindness, goodness,
faithfulness, gentleness and self-
control.” This isn’t just willful
ignorance or selective reading;
it’s an informed analysis that
looks at the bigger picture.
Similarly, cherry-picked quotes
from Islam’s texts are used to
justify violence, but these violent
quotes entirely miss the point.

Since there is no Muslim

equivalent of a pope who gets
to have a final say on what
the
Quran
means
or
what

is
considered
Islamic,
there

are
varied
interpretations
of

Islam. Islam is shaped by those
who practice it, and since it is

practiced in different countries
all over the world by people with
different life experiences, there
is a wide array of forms and
understandings of Islam.

In
fact,
more
than
120

Islamic scholars from around
the world published a letter
to
ISIS
saying:
“You
have

misinterpreted
Islam
into
a

religion of harshness, brutality,
torture and murder. This is a
great wrong and an offense to
Islam, to Muslims and to the
entire
world.”
Importantly,

these
scholars
used
Islamic

theological arguments to refute
ISIS’s interpretation of Islam.
As Nihad Awad, the director
of the Council on American
Islamic Relations said, “They
have a twisted theology. They
have relied many times, to
mobilize
and
recruit
young

people, on classic religious texts
that have been misinterpreted
and misunderstood.”

The
subjective
nature
of

religion means that it often can
be a reflection of each person,
group and society that practices
it. When I attend Mass in
different areas, I often find that
churches vary according to the
values of each area. In Ann Arbor,
for
example,
my
experience

at St. Mary’s Catholic Church
has shown me a church that
values social justice, promotes
inclusion
and
is
actively

involved
in
the
community.

Other churches that I have
attended,
however,
have

pushed
more
conservative

agendas. Religion manifests
according to the social and
cultural conditions in which
it is practiced.

Thus, it stands to reason that

religious violence says more
about the area it emerges from
than it does about the religion.
ISIS, after all, does not exist
in a vacuum. It emerged from
the chaos and conflict in Iraq
and Syria, and it continues to
exploit these factors to gain
power and control. So, when
examining
the
intersection

of
religion
and
violence,

we should not assume that
correlation
means
causation.

This means that we should look
more critically at ISIS’s claims
to Islam instead of taking their
propaganda at face value. It
also means that the solution to
homegrown terrorism in the
United States isn’t a blanket
ban on Muslim immigration.

M

y family and I first
decided
to
take
a

vacation
to
Hawaii

in early 2008. It just so happened
that these islands of paradise were
also the birthplace of our newly
elected president, a
Black
man
named

Barack
Hussein

Obama. And on this
vacation to Hawaii, I
recall the passion and
enthusiasm of some
Americans
being

grossly outweighed by
the negative dismissal
and
condemnation

others had toward our
new president.

This
was
when

I began to understand what
resistance against our president
meant.
Eight
years
ago,
my

political views were misinformed,
bordering
on
ignorant.
My

positions were rooted in the trust
I placed in adults, alongside my
lack of education. I was taught
to believe our new president was
more than dangerous — he was a
threat to our way of life. Looking
back now, the amount of content
from the right dedicated to the
condemnation
and
steadfast

resistance to President Obama
was staggering. Statements from
individuals
commanding
large

audiences like Rush Limbaugh,
who hoped four days before the
inauguration that Obama would
fail, or the dedication of Fox News,
which began a campaign of anti-
Obama stories prior to his first
days in office.

And I, a 13-year-old on vacation,

blindly developed an anger and
hatred of a man solely because of
my young mind’s susceptibility to
propaganda. I distinctly remember
being told that Hawaii wasn’t even
his real birthplace, and like the
adults around me who believed the
same lie, I needed no evidence. I
fell prey to propaganda and could
have easily become one of the
constant Obama-blamers we have
all come to love on Facebook.

Yet, eight years later, my family

and I returned to the islands
of Hawaii, and as a testament
to freedom of thought and the
attainment of a proper education,
I
traveled
this
time
reading

“The Audacity of Hope.” It was
extremely fitting, now eight years
later and being enlightened to some

extent, reading the 2006 words
of a passionate and extremely
optimistic Sen. Obama — while
simultaneously
watching
and

listening to the now departing two-
term President Obama comment

on what he believed
his
administration’s

success
and
failures

were.

And
what
struck

me most about the
difference
between

President
Obama’s

two
mindsets
was

the way in which he
condemned, yet was
somewhat
impressed

by, the audacity of
the resistance against

his platform exalting hope and
change. The discipline and degree
of
precision
that
Republicans

such as Mitch McConnell, John
Boehner and Paul Ryan enforced
over their party was incredible.
During Obama’s term, Republicans
executed plans for a lack of
compromise and an unwillingness
to work towards resolutions, while
pandering towards an uneducated
growing electorate being fooled by
radical members of the right who
have now ascended to power.

Reading the optimism within

“The Audacity of Hope,” I felt
what many Americans must have
in 2008 and 2009 — the feeling
that this man had somehow
developed the capability to push
for
rational,
Democratic,
yet

centrist, measures to compromise
and
solve
the
several
issues

plaguing this nation. However,
hearing President Obama speak
recently to his ex-senior adviser
David Axelrod on his podcast “The
Axe Files,” his tired voice reveals
the constant strain the attempts at
progress have personally cost him
over his eight-year tenure. Every
step, action and moment of the
administration
was
scrutinized,

politicized and radicalized by
an aggressive opposition, all in
the name of defending their core
party beliefs.

To what extent does defending

your beliefs allow for lack of
compromise
or
acceptance
of

the opposition? Whether it be
through failing to fulfill your
constitutional
obligations,
like

in the case of the Senate not
voting on Merrick Garland for
the Supreme Court vacancy, or of

Paul Ryan and the Republican-
led House, who engaged in the
most aggressive gerrymandering
in the hopes of minimizing
Democratic influence — was this
all done in the name of defending
Republican beliefs? Or perhaps a
better example would be Sen. Ted
Cruz’s insane quest to default
on our national debt unless we
accept his beliefs on abortion?

That
is
the
audacity
of

resistance.
Republicans

imposed a strict dogma upon
their followers in the hopes
of reclaiming the positions of
power they once held, in order to
impose dated ideas that have not
only failed the American public
but stagnated the progression
of our society and economy as
a whole. In the process they
radicalized
generations
of

Americans, even myself for a
brief time, blatantly pandering
to every irrational position and
claim about a president who
promised progressive change.

And now they have elected

a man I have no fear calling a
childish monster. A six-year-old
with nuclear launch codes. A
child who is the polar opposite
of the man inaugurated eight
years ago. And this is where
I
ask,
how
shall
Americans,

Democrats
and
Republicans

alike impose a resistance against
an administration that does in
fact pose a threat to our nation?
An
administration
that
sides

with foreign dictators over our
own intelligence communities?
An administration that elevates
the
reactionary
“alt-right”
to

the uppermost levels of policy
making
within
the
White

House?
We
as
a
collective

citizenship should take a lesson
from
the
uncompromising

Republican party that sought
oh-so-patriotically to “defend”
and
“protect”
America
from

President Obama those eight
years ago. The only way we
can hope to once again enact
those ideas found within the
pages
of
“The
Audacity
of

Hope” is through a strict and
uncompromising
resistance,

checking our future president
every step of the way.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Thursday, January 12, 2017

The case for a six-team playoff

DAVID DONNANTUONO | OP-ED

N

ow
that
the
college

football
season
is

officially
over,
I’ve

begun to reflect on some of the
debates I have had the past few
weeks over the future of the
postseason. I think we can all
agree that whatever keeps the
door open for more games, like
Monday
night’s
all-time
title

rematch and last week’s Rose
Bowl, is the way to go. After
listening to a friend insist on the
need for an eight-team playoff


and my dad suggest the return
of a one and two seed title rather
than an expansion of the playoff,
I figured I’d throw my two cents
out there.

Some argue that if a team isn’t

among the top four in the country,
why would they deserve to even be
in the conversation? Not the worst
point, especially given the past two
title games have been between
teams that would have faced each
other regardless of there being a
playoff in the first place. Others
are adamant that an eight-team

playoff is both the right thing to do
and an inevitability.

Let me preface this by saying

there are strong arguments for
keeping
the
College
Football

Playoff as is, but here’s where
my argument comes in: If an
expansion of the CFP is in our
future, there’s a right and a wrong
way to do it. In my opinion, a six-
team playoff would preserve many
of the elements that have made
the current playoff such a success,
while providing an answer to what
it has left many of us to want. My
vision is as follows.

Format

The format would include the

top six teams in the country and
a maximum of two teams from
a single conference. This year,
the six teams would have been
Alabama, Clemson, Ohio State,
Washington,
Penn
State
and

Oklahoma. (Sadly, this structure
would have still kept Michigan
out of the playoff this year). That’s
one from each of the five major
conferences, and a second from the
Big Ten, which was measurably
the strongest conference at the end
of the regular season.

Contrary
to
some
people’s

presumptions,
Power
Five

conference champions should not
be
automatic
qualifiers.
Think

of it this way: Had Alabama
dropped this year’s Southeastern
Conference
championship,
a

three-loss Florida still wouldn’t
have been worthy of a spot in the
playoff. Instead, they would earn
a Bowl Championship Series bowl
over Auburn, and a 12-1 ‘Bama
would remain in the playoff


as a high seed. Conferences
would still be free to decide
whether or not they schedule a
championship game.

The one and two seeds would

have byes while two quarterfinal
games would be played in mid-
December between the three seed
and six seed, and the four seed and
five seed. From there, the playoff


would proceed as it stands. The

top team would play the lowest
remaining seed, and the two seed
would play the other quarterfinal
winner at the end of December
or beginning of January. The
championship would then occur
on Monday the following week.

Arguments against an eight-

team playoff

When considering doubling the

four-team field, there are a few
realities one must accept. First
and foremost, it would make other
BCS bowls less meaningful, while
diluting the playoff itself. With
four quarterfinals on the same
weekend, ratings for each game
would likely drop (casual fans
won’t watch 15 hours of football
in one weekend), while both the
caliber and prestige of BCS bowls
not part of the playoff would lower.
A six-team playoff would allow
for two or three high-stakes BCS
bowls, as they would still include
the second-best teams of each
conference (or the third best from
the strongest conference in a
given year).

Second, the top two teams in the

country shouldn’t be given another
additional
postseason
game

against a lower-ranked opponent.
Nick
Saban
would’ve
been

livid if his 13-0 Crimson Tide
had been forced to add three-
loss Wisconsin to their already
difficult path toward the title. The
top two teams in the country
should be rewarded for their
consistency
and
dominance

throughout the season.

Finally, it would lower the

stakes for each year’s biggest
rivalry games. With an eight-
team
playoff,
this
year’s

Michigan
versus
OSU
game

would have just been a battle of
seeding, as opposed to the fight
for a title.

REBECCA LERNER

Managing Editor

420 Maynard St.

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

EMMA KINERY

Editor in Chief

ANNA POLUMBO-LEVY

and REBECCA TARNOPOL

Editorial Page Editors

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board.

All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns
Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan

Max Lubell

Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki

Anna Polumbo-Levy

Jason Rowland

Ali Safawi

Kevin Sweitzer

Rebecca Tarnopol

Ashley Tjhung

Stephanie Trierweiler

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

David Donnantuono is an LSA

junior.

The audacity of resistance

MICHAEL MORDARSKI | COLUMN

MICHAEL

MORDARSKI

The subjective nature of religion

MARY KATE WINN | COLUMN

ERIN WAKELAND | CONTACT ERIN AT ERINRAY@UMICH.EDU

Michael Mordarski can be reached

at mmordars@umich.edu.

MARY KATE WINN


Read more at

michigandaily.com

Mary Kate Winn can be reached

at winnm@umich.edu.

DAVID DONNANTUONO