Some irrelevant opinions on recent events:
1. While I abhor the violence that is rampant in the world in the name of Islam, I don't feel any need to repeatedly "condemn" it to prove I don't support it. Those accused or suspected of violence against innocent civilians do not represent me in any way, I never elected them to represent my voice in the world, nor have I ever met them.
2. What most bothers me and most of the Muslims I know is the blatant hypocrisy. It is absolutely ridiculous for many of the world leaders to stand in rallies condemning the violence in Paris while they have way more blood on their own hands. And these are mostly elected leaders; they are pursuing wars and occupations that are killing hundreds of thousands of innocent people, imprisoning and torturing thousands of people without any trials, and stand quiet when atrocities are being committed on their own soil if it doesn't align with their anti-Islam narrative. The Norway attacks were just a few years ago and were much worse than Paris, but we didn't see any world leaders marching against the anti-Muslim ideologies that fueled those terrible attacks. And then there are all the other atrocities that gets almost no media attention at all because we can't blame Middle Eastern bad guys.
3. If we truly believe in democracy, then we should be holding ourselves accountable for the atrocities our elected leaders are committing. In this case, we actually do share in that blame, because we've been given a voice that we're not using. If we resign ourselves into believing that there's nothing we can do, then this is a much bigger attack on democracy than anything the Al-Qaedas or ISIS's of the world have done.
4. In the last several years, France has seen significant unrest from the immigrant and second-generation youth primarily due to unemployment and implicitly racist policies that prevented their advancement in society. Take anyone in these circumstances and then repeatedly insult the things they hold most dear, and you will definitely provoke a negative reaction. Of course, that was exactly what they wanted. To claim "Je suis Charlie" is to claim that you support hateful speech that targets the most disenfranchised people of society.
5. Our Muslim leaders and Islamic institutions in Canada are not the problem. They condemn the violence and they promote good character and good citizenship. It is when people isolate themselves from traditional Islamic scholarship and reliable institutions that they drift into radical territory. I would advise anyone who questions what really goes on in the mosques to just go and visit one. Attend the Friday sermon or participate in a community lecture. Sit in the children's classes to see what they're actually being taught. There's nothing to hide.
6. It seems it doesn't even matter if we condemn things, because people don't believe it anyway. Every internet forum will have someone who will say "Of course they'll lie about it...taqiyyah and kitman - look it up", referring to an obscure provision in Shia Islam that allows someone to conceal their belief for fear of persecution. I think I speak for the majority of Muslims in saying that I'd never heard of these terms ever until these internet forums. In all my life, having travelled to hundreds of mosques around the world, having read tonnes of books, and having listened to hundreds of different scholars, I've never heard of taqiyyah or kitman or any of the other words these commenters like to use as some sort of Internet Forum trump card. It's not some sort of dark principle that we all secretly follow.
Of course, many of you who read this will probably disbelieve this whole statement because taqiyyah. Suit yourself.
7. When I was growing up, I never heard about Islam in the news and was perfectly happy to go about doing my own thing without anyone worrying about it. Now, the word Islam is everywhere and usually for all the wrong reasons. This has made it difficult for a lot of young Muslims to find their place in society, trying to balance their own beliefs against the prejudices held against them.
But for me, being Muslim has never been about adhering to popular opinion. Ultimately, it comes down to the basics: There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad, peace be upon him, is His messenger.
I believe in One Creator, who created and controls the entire universe. I support this belief by doing what Allah asks us, to observe the universe and witness the marvel of His creation. I am amazed by the order of the universe, the ordered revolution of planets around the sun, the perfect balance given to the Earth which provides us night and day, summer and winter, air and water, plants and animals, and life itself. I am amazed by each and every single living thing, and wonder how anyone can deny the magnificence of our own design when they witness the birth of a child or study the life sciences. All of life is a miracle, and we should never underestimate the magnificence and improbability of all of it.
I also acknowledge the Quran itself as a miracle, a book that has such beauty in its reading that nothing else compares. A book that can be memorized, letter for letter, by small children who don't even speak the language. A book that withstands the test of time as a guide for humanity.
And I believe that Muhammad, peace be upon him, was the best humanity has ever seen, and the history books will attest to that in spite of what some people write (or draw) today. Through his teachings, I am a better person, a better employee, a better husband, and a better father than I would have been otherwise. And society as a whole, including every single one of you reading this, has benefited tremendously from his legacy whether you believe it or not.
Showing posts with label Islam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Islam. Show all posts
January 14, 2015
November 25, 2013
High Hopes
I wrote this editorial back in August 2005. I'm reposting it because I like the helium metaphor here.
There was a time, not too long ago, when many of us were indifferent to current events and had little interest in world politics and policy. One dreadful Tuesday morning, all of this changed. All the days to come preceding that Tuesday would bear changed that no one could ignore. Battle lines were being drawn, and many of us reluctantly took sides. This month, the lines became more pronounced when the London transit system was attacked twice."Inflating our hopes with helium". That was a good line.
The Muslim response was as it has always been: several organizations issued statements condemning the bombing. In theory, the unity of the Muslim ummah in condemning the attacks should be a sign of hope. In reality, the condemnations have become predictable and mundane. Unfortunately, whatever hope and optimism that emerges from the Muslim response tends to fizzle and become irrelevant the next time the Muslim community comes under attack.
The difficulty is that today we are inflating our hopes with helium; they rise only until the surrounding environment changes, at which point they burst and crash to the ground. As the pressure increases, our optimism wanes and ignorance and prejudice prevail. Outwardly, we have not done enough to make generalizations about the Muslim community seem irrational and baseless.
That will only change when we take it upon ourselves to become true ambassadors of the deen. Today, we are “that Muslim guy in the corner office”, or “that group of Muslims that usually sits at the back.” In truth, we are supposed to be the representatives of the Quran and Sunnah, and Allah has put us where we are for a reason. If we uphold the sunnah truthfully, then any attacks against Islam can never hold water.
All this, of course, is easier said than done. It comes in a hadith that “the believer who mixes with people and endures any harm that they cause him has a greater reward than that believer who does not mix with people, and does not endure the harm they cause him.” Hence, when faced with these difficulties, we should take solace in the fact that they are not going unrewarded. Ultimately, hope for our community and our future will be born on the backs of those who will always push on in the face of adversity.
March 20, 2013
I.LEAD Part Two: Play to your Strengths
This is why I'm writing again.
Every person has been made different, with different skills and talents. Not everyone is going to be a scholar, and not everyone is going to be a doctor. It is a blessing of humanity that we're not all wired the same way, otherwise the world would struggle with imbalance even moreso than it already is.
At the I.LEAD conference, not every speaker was a scholar. Some speakers were not even all that eloquent. But eloquence isn't necessary for delivering a message, really; it is more a function of passion and conviction. And in my case, it was the ineloquence of a full-on rant that woke me up.
That rant would be the speech delivered by an author of childrens' books, who bluntly expressed her opinions on parenting, societal and peer pressure, and mosque administration (more on that later) without holding anything back. She was animated, at times crass, but above all, convincing in her delivery. She clearly expressed her opinions, and spoke audaciously about issues that we would normally keep silent about. And she found her place in the world as a storyteller, her writings as genuine as her speech.
For a few years, I was misplaced as an alternate khateeb at my then-local musallah. This also happened to be during a period in which I was writing fairly regularly here on this blog as well as the local Muslim newspaper. While I tried preparing every time for my khutbah, more often than not my speech ended up being more related to something I had blogged about earlier that week. Whatever research and preparation I did, whatever great speech I listened to and wanted to repeat, I was never able to express very well. But whatever I had written came out naturally in speech as I stood before the small congregation.
Writing, then, was the better fit for me; I accept now that I wasn't very good at the research or the attempted emulation of speakers I've enjoyed listening to. And even after years of inactivity, writing remains as the most productive creative outlet at my disposal. Hence, the best way for me to get personal benefit out of the I.LEAD conference would be to put it down on paper, so to speak.
This was the second major theme I gleaned from the days' events. Too often, we miscast members of our communities into roles that are not suited for them. We scoff at the non-traditional ideas that come from our youth, and relegate them instead to mundane tasks. We raise our children to be doctors and engineers when their real talents have not even been discovered yet. And we are disappointed when our expectations are unmet, without even considering whether those expectations were at all reasonable. We fail to recognize the strengths and weaknesses in ourselves and our communities, and then wonder why things aren't moving forward. No matter how much we smash away, the square peg won't fit into the round hole.
Everyone has their talent, their skill, their one thing they can do better than anyone else. And as a society, each individual has a role to play. But our narrow views on family status and community responsibility blind us from those hidden talents. We lose sight of what we can become, and assign ourselves to roles we don't fit. And once anyone starts down that road, struggling down a path that they're not suited for, confidence breaks down and we fall into dejection and depression. So much potential wasted, and so many hearts broken.
As a parent, this is my lesson: encourage my daughter in whatever productive pursuits she finds herself in. Find ways to channel her talents into positive contributions to society. This can't be forced, she has to discover herself what those talents are. The responsibility of the parent is to provide some guidance, but let the child show what she can really do on her own.
Parenting was a common theme throughout the conference, as youth engagement begins first at the home. The four A's, as articulated by Dr. Yassir Fazaga: affection, attention, acceptance, and appreciation. Love and play with your children, and give them the right attention; too often, we let cartoons and internet raise our children, and then wonder why we don't recognize them later. Accept who they are; it may not be what we anticipated, but it is what Allah chose for them, and in that there is surely some wisdom. Appreciate what they do; if we learned to look past our own biases, we would be amazed at the talents Allah has placed in our children and youth.
As an individual, I need to do more with what Allah has given me. We all do, with whatever gifts we have been given. I think I know now what works for me, but this is really a journey of constant discovery, and my role today may be different than what is planned for me tomorrow.
Once we know our own strengths, it becomes that much easier to individually contribute. But bringing that recognition from the personal level to the community level is extraordinarily difficult. The mosque should be the hub for that community growth, but rarely is nowadays. What I learned from I.LEAD about the rise and ruin of the mosque will be the topic of the next post.
Every person has been made different, with different skills and talents. Not everyone is going to be a scholar, and not everyone is going to be a doctor. It is a blessing of humanity that we're not all wired the same way, otherwise the world would struggle with imbalance even moreso than it already is.
At the I.LEAD conference, not every speaker was a scholar. Some speakers were not even all that eloquent. But eloquence isn't necessary for delivering a message, really; it is more a function of passion and conviction. And in my case, it was the ineloquence of a full-on rant that woke me up.
That rant would be the speech delivered by an author of childrens' books, who bluntly expressed her opinions on parenting, societal and peer pressure, and mosque administration (more on that later) without holding anything back. She was animated, at times crass, but above all, convincing in her delivery. She clearly expressed her opinions, and spoke audaciously about issues that we would normally keep silent about. And she found her place in the world as a storyteller, her writings as genuine as her speech.
For a few years, I was misplaced as an alternate khateeb at my then-local musallah. This also happened to be during a period in which I was writing fairly regularly here on this blog as well as the local Muslim newspaper. While I tried preparing every time for my khutbah, more often than not my speech ended up being more related to something I had blogged about earlier that week. Whatever research and preparation I did, whatever great speech I listened to and wanted to repeat, I was never able to express very well. But whatever I had written came out naturally in speech as I stood before the small congregation.
Writing, then, was the better fit for me; I accept now that I wasn't very good at the research or the attempted emulation of speakers I've enjoyed listening to. And even after years of inactivity, writing remains as the most productive creative outlet at my disposal. Hence, the best way for me to get personal benefit out of the I.LEAD conference would be to put it down on paper, so to speak.
This was the second major theme I gleaned from the days' events. Too often, we miscast members of our communities into roles that are not suited for them. We scoff at the non-traditional ideas that come from our youth, and relegate them instead to mundane tasks. We raise our children to be doctors and engineers when their real talents have not even been discovered yet. And we are disappointed when our expectations are unmet, without even considering whether those expectations were at all reasonable. We fail to recognize the strengths and weaknesses in ourselves and our communities, and then wonder why things aren't moving forward. No matter how much we smash away, the square peg won't fit into the round hole.
Everyone has their talent, their skill, their one thing they can do better than anyone else. And as a society, each individual has a role to play. But our narrow views on family status and community responsibility blind us from those hidden talents. We lose sight of what we can become, and assign ourselves to roles we don't fit. And once anyone starts down that road, struggling down a path that they're not suited for, confidence breaks down and we fall into dejection and depression. So much potential wasted, and so many hearts broken.
As a parent, this is my lesson: encourage my daughter in whatever productive pursuits she finds herself in. Find ways to channel her talents into positive contributions to society. This can't be forced, she has to discover herself what those talents are. The responsibility of the parent is to provide some guidance, but let the child show what she can really do on her own.
Parenting was a common theme throughout the conference, as youth engagement begins first at the home. The four A's, as articulated by Dr. Yassir Fazaga: affection, attention, acceptance, and appreciation. Love and play with your children, and give them the right attention; too often, we let cartoons and internet raise our children, and then wonder why we don't recognize them later. Accept who they are; it may not be what we anticipated, but it is what Allah chose for them, and in that there is surely some wisdom. Appreciate what they do; if we learned to look past our own biases, we would be amazed at the talents Allah has placed in our children and youth.
As an individual, I need to do more with what Allah has given me. We all do, with whatever gifts we have been given. I think I know now what works for me, but this is really a journey of constant discovery, and my role today may be different than what is planned for me tomorrow.
Once we know our own strengths, it becomes that much easier to individually contribute. But bringing that recognition from the personal level to the community level is extraordinarily difficult. The mosque should be the hub for that community growth, but rarely is nowadays. What I learned from I.LEAD about the rise and ruin of the mosque will be the topic of the next post.
March 18, 2013
I.LEAD Part One: Identity
I'm not generally a "conference" guy as I've written before, but I acknowledge that they have a place and a purpose, and that they do have the ability to change lives. This isn't even an exaggeration; I'm sure most readers know at least one person whose life was deeply changed by the various Islamic conferences that take place around North America. While I rarely found them personally beneficial, they can certainly be a means of promoting the greater good.
Nothing of this magnitude had been attempted in Ottawa before, at least to my knowledge. This was not for lack of interest or enthusiasm; the local community has grown considerably and is blessed with a number of Islamic programs and organizations. It was not for lack of unity either; recent years have seen the various Islamic organizations in the city come together in ways that seemed impossible a decade ago. In fact, it may have only been for lack of physical space - it was only within the last couple of years that Ottawa had the facilities to host something of this scale.
In short, this was the right time for the city to take this on, and that must have become apparent to the early organizers. Thus began fourteen months of effort to make the vision a reality, through the coordination of hundreds of selfless volunteers. I hadn't even heard about the event until a few months ago, but the hype grew considerably in the final weeks to the tune of nearly 3,000 in attendance this past Saturday.
The title "I.LEAD" stood for "Islam: Learn, Engage, Achieve, Develop", with the official theme as "YES: Youth Engagement and Support". I don't intend on repeating exactly what was said during the various lectures, but rather to comment on what I personally learned and understood. So in the Irrelevant Opinions version of the days events, I extracted three separate themes, the first of which is "Identity". I'll address this here, and insha-Allah the next two in separate posts.
The concept of Muslim Identity in the West is something that has always interested me. One of the lectures was entitled "Can I be both Muslim & Canadian?", which I thought could have been an eight second speech: "Assalamu'alaykum. Yes, you can. Thank you."
But of course, it is not that simple, and this question is considerably more difficult for others than it has been for me. Many people feel they have to choose between conformity or cultural isolation, resigning themselves to the belief that one can't have the best of both worlds. Dr. Jamal Badawi addressed some of the obvious challenges, speaking of terrorism and how the media portrays Muslims. It is an unfortunate reality that many are turned away from religion because of the negative media portrayals, but Dr. Badawi encouraged others to build the confidence to transcend those portrayals and challenge the stereotypes. Many of the speakers and volunteers were the product of Dr. Badawi's da'wah efforts, a testament to the resonance of his message.
Others such as Dr. Yacoub Mahi spoke more about the personal choices one has to make to identify oneself, through social, intellectual, and spiritual frames. Leaving aside how others may view a Muslim Canadian, how should one view oneself? For each frame of reference, he provided a structure for building closeness to Allah, and how one can bring value and honour into ones identity through this nearness. On the other hand, he argued, one devalues himself - socially, intellectually and spiritually - when they seek recognition from the ghairullah. This personal approach spoke more directly to me, as I've never been one to care for the media portrayals anyway.
Perhaps nothing is more central to ones identity than the leanings of ones' heart, and this is what Shaykh Riad Saloojee focused on. The heart is not bound by the geographic constraints of national citizenship, and thus can be in any state in any place. A heart that yearns for nearness to Allah is a pure heart, whether it be residing in Canada or Madinah, and one that yearns for the world will be eternally unsatisfied wherever it exists. Thus, it should never be a matter of deciding between being Canadian or being Muslim; it is only a matter of deciding between a heart that seeks purity or one that succumbs to corruption. Spiritual purity and corruption are not products of the country we live in, but are rather products of our aspirations.
My appreciation of this conference was driven largely by the diversity of viewpoints on topics such as this. It was not a conference that promoted a specific way of thinking, the audience was free to interpret it however they liked as I am doing now. Some may argue that this was a very "soft" approach, avoiding the controversial topics that keep Muslim hearts racing. No matter; controversy is overrated, and an inclusive approach is a better way to capture the hearts and minds of large gatherings like this.
Ultimately, discussions of identity are very personal, and thus the debates and arguments are largely internal. This is perhaps why this topic is often neglected; introspection doesn't get people excited. But ultimately, if one wants to change a society, one needs to change oneself. And to change oneself, one must know oneself.
Once we get past the internal struggle, the external struggles follow. The next two themes fall in the latter category. Stay tuned.
Nothing of this magnitude had been attempted in Ottawa before, at least to my knowledge. This was not for lack of interest or enthusiasm; the local community has grown considerably and is blessed with a number of Islamic programs and organizations. It was not for lack of unity either; recent years have seen the various Islamic organizations in the city come together in ways that seemed impossible a decade ago. In fact, it may have only been for lack of physical space - it was only within the last couple of years that Ottawa had the facilities to host something of this scale.
In short, this was the right time for the city to take this on, and that must have become apparent to the early organizers. Thus began fourteen months of effort to make the vision a reality, through the coordination of hundreds of selfless volunteers. I hadn't even heard about the event until a few months ago, but the hype grew considerably in the final weeks to the tune of nearly 3,000 in attendance this past Saturday.
The title "I.LEAD" stood for "Islam: Learn, Engage, Achieve, Develop", with the official theme as "YES: Youth Engagement and Support". I don't intend on repeating exactly what was said during the various lectures, but rather to comment on what I personally learned and understood. So in the Irrelevant Opinions version of the days events, I extracted three separate themes, the first of which is "Identity". I'll address this here, and insha-Allah the next two in separate posts.
The concept of Muslim Identity in the West is something that has always interested me. One of the lectures was entitled "Can I be both Muslim & Canadian?", which I thought could have been an eight second speech: "Assalamu'alaykum. Yes, you can. Thank you."
But of course, it is not that simple, and this question is considerably more difficult for others than it has been for me. Many people feel they have to choose between conformity or cultural isolation, resigning themselves to the belief that one can't have the best of both worlds. Dr. Jamal Badawi addressed some of the obvious challenges, speaking of terrorism and how the media portrays Muslims. It is an unfortunate reality that many are turned away from religion because of the negative media portrayals, but Dr. Badawi encouraged others to build the confidence to transcend those portrayals and challenge the stereotypes. Many of the speakers and volunteers were the product of Dr. Badawi's da'wah efforts, a testament to the resonance of his message.
Others such as Dr. Yacoub Mahi spoke more about the personal choices one has to make to identify oneself, through social, intellectual, and spiritual frames. Leaving aside how others may view a Muslim Canadian, how should one view oneself? For each frame of reference, he provided a structure for building closeness to Allah, and how one can bring value and honour into ones identity through this nearness. On the other hand, he argued, one devalues himself - socially, intellectually and spiritually - when they seek recognition from the ghairullah. This personal approach spoke more directly to me, as I've never been one to care for the media portrayals anyway.
Perhaps nothing is more central to ones identity than the leanings of ones' heart, and this is what Shaykh Riad Saloojee focused on. The heart is not bound by the geographic constraints of national citizenship, and thus can be in any state in any place. A heart that yearns for nearness to Allah is a pure heart, whether it be residing in Canada or Madinah, and one that yearns for the world will be eternally unsatisfied wherever it exists. Thus, it should never be a matter of deciding between being Canadian or being Muslim; it is only a matter of deciding between a heart that seeks purity or one that succumbs to corruption. Spiritual purity and corruption are not products of the country we live in, but are rather products of our aspirations.
My appreciation of this conference was driven largely by the diversity of viewpoints on topics such as this. It was not a conference that promoted a specific way of thinking, the audience was free to interpret it however they liked as I am doing now. Some may argue that this was a very "soft" approach, avoiding the controversial topics that keep Muslim hearts racing. No matter; controversy is overrated, and an inclusive approach is a better way to capture the hearts and minds of large gatherings like this.
Ultimately, discussions of identity are very personal, and thus the debates and arguments are largely internal. This is perhaps why this topic is often neglected; introspection doesn't get people excited. But ultimately, if one wants to change a society, one needs to change oneself. And to change oneself, one must know oneself.
Once we get past the internal struggle, the external struggles follow. The next two themes fall in the latter category. Stay tuned.
November 15, 2010
The Forgotten Slaves: The Curious Case of Slave Lake
Our perspectives repeatedly clashed, but we typically got along very well. Me, having lived all my life in Canada; him, having grown up in Africa, then migrating to Canada, then returning to Africa for studies, and eventually settling back in Canada. He was uneasy, unsettled, ready to leave at the first opportunity in order to secure the value of tradition in his family. That I felt no desire to leave, he felt, was a sign that I rejected tradition and embraced a culture that placed no value in family and morality.
While leaving has crossed my mind in the past, it usually ended up detouring to Tim Hortons before forgetting where it was trying to go. The thought could never make full the journey from idea to objective; the body, meanwhile, remained unmoved entirely by those fleeting ideas.
He never did feel comfortable in Ottawa, afraid for his daughter born days before my own. How could it be, he argued, that his daughter grow up in this society, with this culture, and still find room in her heart to embrace and practice her faith? How could she identify with the religion when she could not identify with a land that embraced the religion?
It was a conversation that carried on for a while, as we travelled westward towards the Rockies before the journey north to Yellowknife. It was an intimidating journey, one that would take days to complete, but it was sure to become a memorable experience.
And then we arrived at Slave Lake.
After the Second World War, as Muslim immigrants began migrating in large numbers to Edmonton, a smaller community made the journey northwards to this small fur trading town to establish business. Muslim generations grew up in this small town, mixing with the larger community until they were as much a part of them as they were of each other. By the 1990s, a small mosque was established to finally meet the needs of this growing congregation.
However, the mosque was something of an anomaly for Slave Lake. While the Muslim community worked for generations to mesh with the greater population to the point of becoming indistinguishable, the mosque stood out like a weird uncle. It didn't quite fit the family values, nephews would pretend they weren't related, but ultimately it still was part of the family - it had to be tended to, respected, and visited. And like this, the community maintained a relationship, however tenuous, with the mosque. Its existence was a significant achievement for the city as a whole, but it suffered from a lack of scholarship, a dearth of individuals capable of teaching, and a general disconnect with the larger urban centres nearby. As such, the promising Muslim community of Slave Lake, with roots four generations deep, lost touch with their identities.
Then, in the days following 9/11, the mosque was set ablaze, leaving a fiery ruin that suffocated whatever little spirit was left.
The people became afraid. It was never established, at least to me, who caused the fire - it may have been the Muslims themselves, it may have been others. It may have been a freak coincidence. But however it happened, it gave birth to a prevailing sense of fear in the community, the desperate feeling among the threatened populace that they could no longer be associated with this religion any longer.
A new mosque was rebuilt, eventually. A beautiful mosque, in fact - one of the best I've seen in the country, for its size. But it was little beyond mere walls; barely five people, mostly travelers, would join the Friday prayer, standing behind an imam who with his best intentions struggled with even basic Islamic terms. The mosque timetable only included 'Asr and 'Maghrib prayers - there was no expectation that one might actually pray outside of those hours during the summer, and no expectation of any prayers at all during the winter.
But more depressing was the refusal of basic services to those of us passing through the city who appeared visibly Muslim. "All I want is a slice of pizza!", pleaded a friend at one Lebanese-owned pizza place. But his beard indicated to the owner that he had other intentions, and the owner kicked him out with no meal. The business owners, afraid of being associated with those who identify themselves as Muslims, refused even to sell to us travelers, ironic given the economic history of the city.
This, my friend argued, was what our second generation communities were coming to. He felt that Slave Lake represented a microcosm of the growth of a new community in the West - initial optimism, gradual loss of tradition, and an eventual disappearance of all connection to Islam within a matter of three to four generations. This, he argued, was why he could not raise his own children in this country; perhaps, with Allah's help, they could keep things going through one generation, but two or three generations down the road, they may be refusing pizzas to men with beards.
Circumstances are different, I felt. Slave Lake was a small town, isolated and detached. The size, my friend argued, only accelerated the process of decline, but that decline was indeed the path all Muslim communities in the West will take over time. For larger cities, perhaps the decline would be more gradual, but loss of religion was inevitable.
Given my own upbringing, I have always decoupled the concepts of geographic tradition and religious tradition; one does not necessarily lead to the other in my mind. There is no guarantee that raising a child in a Muslim country would result in a better upbringing anyway; in fact, there are enough examples I can think of where youth embraced their religion only after leaving their Muslim homelands behind. But my friend was convinced otherwise, and who was I to argue with this friend whom I greatly respected; he had far more knowledge and experience than myself, and had traveled far more extensively throughout the country and world than I had. He was speaking out of experience, whereas I was only speaking out of false, misplaced hope.
But false hope is hope nonetheless. And it is that hope, misplaced as it may be, that can inspire a generation, while fear can suffocate it as it has done in Slave Lake. As Muslims, we are to live between hope and fear, which for me exists right where I am right now; it is home.
While leaving has crossed my mind in the past, it usually ended up detouring to Tim Hortons before forgetting where it was trying to go. The thought could never make full the journey from idea to objective; the body, meanwhile, remained unmoved entirely by those fleeting ideas.
He never did feel comfortable in Ottawa, afraid for his daughter born days before my own. How could it be, he argued, that his daughter grow up in this society, with this culture, and still find room in her heart to embrace and practice her faith? How could she identify with the religion when she could not identify with a land that embraced the religion?
It was a conversation that carried on for a while, as we travelled westward towards the Rockies before the journey north to Yellowknife. It was an intimidating journey, one that would take days to complete, but it was sure to become a memorable experience.
And then we arrived at Slave Lake.
After the Second World War, as Muslim immigrants began migrating in large numbers to Edmonton, a smaller community made the journey northwards to this small fur trading town to establish business. Muslim generations grew up in this small town, mixing with the larger community until they were as much a part of them as they were of each other. By the 1990s, a small mosque was established to finally meet the needs of this growing congregation.
However, the mosque was something of an anomaly for Slave Lake. While the Muslim community worked for generations to mesh with the greater population to the point of becoming indistinguishable, the mosque stood out like a weird uncle. It didn't quite fit the family values, nephews would pretend they weren't related, but ultimately it still was part of the family - it had to be tended to, respected, and visited. And like this, the community maintained a relationship, however tenuous, with the mosque. Its existence was a significant achievement for the city as a whole, but it suffered from a lack of scholarship, a dearth of individuals capable of teaching, and a general disconnect with the larger urban centres nearby. As such, the promising Muslim community of Slave Lake, with roots four generations deep, lost touch with their identities.
Then, in the days following 9/11, the mosque was set ablaze, leaving a fiery ruin that suffocated whatever little spirit was left.
The people became afraid. It was never established, at least to me, who caused the fire - it may have been the Muslims themselves, it may have been others. It may have been a freak coincidence. But however it happened, it gave birth to a prevailing sense of fear in the community, the desperate feeling among the threatened populace that they could no longer be associated with this religion any longer.
A new mosque was rebuilt, eventually. A beautiful mosque, in fact - one of the best I've seen in the country, for its size. But it was little beyond mere walls; barely five people, mostly travelers, would join the Friday prayer, standing behind an imam who with his best intentions struggled with even basic Islamic terms. The mosque timetable only included 'Asr and 'Maghrib prayers - there was no expectation that one might actually pray outside of those hours during the summer, and no expectation of any prayers at all during the winter.
But more depressing was the refusal of basic services to those of us passing through the city who appeared visibly Muslim. "All I want is a slice of pizza!", pleaded a friend at one Lebanese-owned pizza place. But his beard indicated to the owner that he had other intentions, and the owner kicked him out with no meal. The business owners, afraid of being associated with those who identify themselves as Muslims, refused even to sell to us travelers, ironic given the economic history of the city.
This, my friend argued, was what our second generation communities were coming to. He felt that Slave Lake represented a microcosm of the growth of a new community in the West - initial optimism, gradual loss of tradition, and an eventual disappearance of all connection to Islam within a matter of three to four generations. This, he argued, was why he could not raise his own children in this country; perhaps, with Allah's help, they could keep things going through one generation, but two or three generations down the road, they may be refusing pizzas to men with beards.
Circumstances are different, I felt. Slave Lake was a small town, isolated and detached. The size, my friend argued, only accelerated the process of decline, but that decline was indeed the path all Muslim communities in the West will take over time. For larger cities, perhaps the decline would be more gradual, but loss of religion was inevitable.
Given my own upbringing, I have always decoupled the concepts of geographic tradition and religious tradition; one does not necessarily lead to the other in my mind. There is no guarantee that raising a child in a Muslim country would result in a better upbringing anyway; in fact, there are enough examples I can think of where youth embraced their religion only after leaving their Muslim homelands behind. But my friend was convinced otherwise, and who was I to argue with this friend whom I greatly respected; he had far more knowledge and experience than myself, and had traveled far more extensively throughout the country and world than I had. He was speaking out of experience, whereas I was only speaking out of false, misplaced hope.
But false hope is hope nonetheless. And it is that hope, misplaced as it may be, that can inspire a generation, while fear can suffocate it as it has done in Slave Lake. As Muslims, we are to live between hope and fear, which for me exists right where I am right now; it is home.
August 21, 2009
Crescent Rolls
I wrote this for last years Ramadhan issue of the Muslim Link, and it was very well received around the city. Here it is again.
At nearly every Islamic conference and halaqah in North America, Muslim scholars and activists have pondered over what defines the "North American Muslim culture". For as long as there have been pockets of believers throughout the New World, there have been discussions on how North American culture would influence Muslim belief and practice. Some believed, and still believe, that they simply aren't compatible; they adopt one, and ridicule the other. Others have gone to great lengths to integrate the cultures completely, compromising both. The vast majority of us, torn between two worlds, feel that there is no single answer; North American Muslims form a microcosm of the entire Muslim world, and each community offers a different perspective.
There is one thing, however, that can be considered a largely "North American" practice. It didn't come from any Islamic texts, nor did we inherit it from our ancestral countries. It has become a defining trait of nearly every masjid and Islamic organization in Canada and the US, and has spawned more discussion and debate than nearly any other aspect of Islamic practice. That salient characteristic is, of course, the moonfighting.
Around three times a year, debate erupts as to whether the new moon has been sighted, and if so, by whom, and when, and how, and, of course, what does moonsighting.com say about it? One follows the local sighting, another follows the Saudi sighting, while others argue that this era calls for relying on technology. And every year, cities are divided, masjids bicker, and even members of one family will often celebrate Eid on different days. With the variations at both the beginning and end of Ramadhan, some cities boast three separate days of Eid prayer.
Differences of opinion are part of the Ummah, and nowhere is that more prevalent than in the mosques of the West, where different traditions and backgrounds come together, and often clash. What makes the moon sighting issue so much more prominent is that it involves a communal act of worship at a very large scale. There are a number of accepted schools of jurisprudence that encourage slight variations in prayer and other Islamic rulings, but those variations don't usually expose themselves beyond individual discussion. And when they do, most will agree to disagree, recognizing that the history of Islamic scholarship not only tolerated such variation, but encouraged it within the parameters of Shariah. Essentially, the practice of one worshipper should not affect the worship of another.
The beginning of Ramadhan and the days of Eid are community celebrations, which reach every Muslim household. Even those Muslims who would not normally frequent the mosques or participate in community activities get caught up in the excitement, and race toward the first rows in Tarawih prayers. Ramadhan is, in many ways, the most uniting act of worship for the vast majority of Muslims in this part of the world, even with the disagreements on the number of raka'ats in Tarawih and the precise time that a white thread appears distinct from a black one. As an event of such magnitude, any disagreement puts the entire community at odds. Each moonsighting interpretation spawns it's own camp within each city, each one calling for "unity". Of course, unity for each camp means that everyone else follow their way.
It is not for an article such as this to argue which is the correct opinion. Scholars have debated the issue already at length with no solid agreement, and it is unlikely that epiphany will strike anytime soon. What can be discussed, however, is where the differences arise, and how we as a community should deal with them.
As with most differences in the science of Islamic jurisprudence, variations arise based on the interpretations of different scholars on the verses of Quran and Hadith pertaining to a given topic. Typically, the same source verses and hadith are being used to arrive at the various rulings. On issues where there is no specific verses or hadith, scholars would infer the rulings based on similar topics, and by way of analogy, come to a conclusion. The reliability of the narrator is also considered in the case of hadith, and scholars assessed this reliability in different ways. Thus, even with a single verse of Quran or a single passage from the Hadith, dozens of interpretations could arise.
In the case of the crescent birth, the verses of Quran do not explicitly stipulate whether the crescent moon of Makkah should be sought, or whether it should be seen wherever one lives. The Quran does elaborate on the number of witnesses required to establish a reliable account, however. This requirement has played into a number of controversies in recent memory, including a case here in Ottawa a couple of years ago. It is generally accepted that a single witness is not sufficient to establish a reliable account, but scholars differ as to whether this is applicable in every case.
Other variables play into the debate. In the past, scholars debated whether the sighting had to occur at ground level, or if it was permissible to seek the crescent from the top of a mountain where there would be increased visibility. Weather also factored into their positions; should one just employ a "best guess" approach when there is no chance of seeing the moon through the clouds? With modern technology, there are even more variables. For example, would seeing the moon through a telescope constitute a valid sighting? Would a reported sighting that contradicted astronomical calculations be acceptable? Rather than simplify the issue, modern technology has only made the debate more difficult.
With so many factors playing into the decision, it is surprising that we differ only by a day or two. We all hope and pray that we unify on a single day, but that's an extremely challenging proposition with all the cards in play. In the mean time, our job is to accept the conflicting opinions without resorting to pointless bickering. It should be noted that scholars, in their disagreements, did not let those disagreements incite hatred or comtempt. Harbouring contempt against fellow Muslims is a far greater crime than starting Ramadhan a day early.
Thus, in the days approaching Ramadhan, we should find out what position will be taken by our local mosque. We should use our local mosque as our basis, as this is the place we will most likely be praying our Tarawih prayers on a daily basis, so we should be synchronized with them. At the end of the month, we should stick with that mosque, and follow their Shawwal sighting. One should not follow one opinion to begin the month and another to complete it, lest one fall into the trap of taking rulings at their convenience. Furthermore, we should encourage others to do the same, even if they follow a different opinion than our own. I recall an incident in university where a group of friends celebrating Eid forced another Muslim to eat on what he believed to be the last day of Ramadhan; such incidents should be avoided completely, lest someone end up fasting only 28 days. We can not let ourselves be the cause of spoiling the Ramadhan of another.
Allah has blessed us with Ramadhan as a means of forgiveness and seeking His Mercy. We should not let our pride take away from this month by forcing our opinions on others. We will be doing more to promote unity by allowing others the freedom to follow what they believe, rather than force everyone into celebrating Eid on a single day.
Ironically, our hopes of unity may best be served by embracing disagreement.
At nearly every Islamic conference and halaqah in North America, Muslim scholars and activists have pondered over what defines the "North American Muslim culture". For as long as there have been pockets of believers throughout the New World, there have been discussions on how North American culture would influence Muslim belief and practice. Some believed, and still believe, that they simply aren't compatible; they adopt one, and ridicule the other. Others have gone to great lengths to integrate the cultures completely, compromising both. The vast majority of us, torn between two worlds, feel that there is no single answer; North American Muslims form a microcosm of the entire Muslim world, and each community offers a different perspective.
There is one thing, however, that can be considered a largely "North American" practice. It didn't come from any Islamic texts, nor did we inherit it from our ancestral countries. It has become a defining trait of nearly every masjid and Islamic organization in Canada and the US, and has spawned more discussion and debate than nearly any other aspect of Islamic practice. That salient characteristic is, of course, the moonfighting.
Around three times a year, debate erupts as to whether the new moon has been sighted, and if so, by whom, and when, and how, and, of course, what does moonsighting.com say about it? One follows the local sighting, another follows the Saudi sighting, while others argue that this era calls for relying on technology. And every year, cities are divided, masjids bicker, and even members of one family will often celebrate Eid on different days. With the variations at both the beginning and end of Ramadhan, some cities boast three separate days of Eid prayer.
Differences of opinion are part of the Ummah, and nowhere is that more prevalent than in the mosques of the West, where different traditions and backgrounds come together, and often clash. What makes the moon sighting issue so much more prominent is that it involves a communal act of worship at a very large scale. There are a number of accepted schools of jurisprudence that encourage slight variations in prayer and other Islamic rulings, but those variations don't usually expose themselves beyond individual discussion. And when they do, most will agree to disagree, recognizing that the history of Islamic scholarship not only tolerated such variation, but encouraged it within the parameters of Shariah. Essentially, the practice of one worshipper should not affect the worship of another.
The beginning of Ramadhan and the days of Eid are community celebrations, which reach every Muslim household. Even those Muslims who would not normally frequent the mosques or participate in community activities get caught up in the excitement, and race toward the first rows in Tarawih prayers. Ramadhan is, in many ways, the most uniting act of worship for the vast majority of Muslims in this part of the world, even with the disagreements on the number of raka'ats in Tarawih and the precise time that a white thread appears distinct from a black one. As an event of such magnitude, any disagreement puts the entire community at odds. Each moonsighting interpretation spawns it's own camp within each city, each one calling for "unity". Of course, unity for each camp means that everyone else follow their way.
It is not for an article such as this to argue which is the correct opinion. Scholars have debated the issue already at length with no solid agreement, and it is unlikely that epiphany will strike anytime soon. What can be discussed, however, is where the differences arise, and how we as a community should deal with them.
As with most differences in the science of Islamic jurisprudence, variations arise based on the interpretations of different scholars on the verses of Quran and Hadith pertaining to a given topic. Typically, the same source verses and hadith are being used to arrive at the various rulings. On issues where there is no specific verses or hadith, scholars would infer the rulings based on similar topics, and by way of analogy, come to a conclusion. The reliability of the narrator is also considered in the case of hadith, and scholars assessed this reliability in different ways. Thus, even with a single verse of Quran or a single passage from the Hadith, dozens of interpretations could arise.
In the case of the crescent birth, the verses of Quran do not explicitly stipulate whether the crescent moon of Makkah should be sought, or whether it should be seen wherever one lives. The Quran does elaborate on the number of witnesses required to establish a reliable account, however. This requirement has played into a number of controversies in recent memory, including a case here in Ottawa a couple of years ago. It is generally accepted that a single witness is not sufficient to establish a reliable account, but scholars differ as to whether this is applicable in every case.
Other variables play into the debate. In the past, scholars debated whether the sighting had to occur at ground level, or if it was permissible to seek the crescent from the top of a mountain where there would be increased visibility. Weather also factored into their positions; should one just employ a "best guess" approach when there is no chance of seeing the moon through the clouds? With modern technology, there are even more variables. For example, would seeing the moon through a telescope constitute a valid sighting? Would a reported sighting that contradicted astronomical calculations be acceptable? Rather than simplify the issue, modern technology has only made the debate more difficult.
With so many factors playing into the decision, it is surprising that we differ only by a day or two. We all hope and pray that we unify on a single day, but that's an extremely challenging proposition with all the cards in play. In the mean time, our job is to accept the conflicting opinions without resorting to pointless bickering. It should be noted that scholars, in their disagreements, did not let those disagreements incite hatred or comtempt. Harbouring contempt against fellow Muslims is a far greater crime than starting Ramadhan a day early.
Thus, in the days approaching Ramadhan, we should find out what position will be taken by our local mosque. We should use our local mosque as our basis, as this is the place we will most likely be praying our Tarawih prayers on a daily basis, so we should be synchronized with them. At the end of the month, we should stick with that mosque, and follow their Shawwal sighting. One should not follow one opinion to begin the month and another to complete it, lest one fall into the trap of taking rulings at their convenience. Furthermore, we should encourage others to do the same, even if they follow a different opinion than our own. I recall an incident in university where a group of friends celebrating Eid forced another Muslim to eat on what he believed to be the last day of Ramadhan; such incidents should be avoided completely, lest someone end up fasting only 28 days. We can not let ourselves be the cause of spoiling the Ramadhan of another.
Allah has blessed us with Ramadhan as a means of forgiveness and seeking His Mercy. We should not let our pride take away from this month by forcing our opinions on others. We will be doing more to promote unity by allowing others the freedom to follow what they believe, rather than force everyone into celebrating Eid on a single day.
Ironically, our hopes of unity may best be served by embracing disagreement.
September 10, 2008
Jar of Raisins
On the upcoming election: I love how in Canada, an election can be announced, campaigned, and settled within seven weeks, whereas our neighbours to the south have been in election mode for over a year and will continue to be for another few months. And the worst "scandals" in Canadian politics wouldn't even raise an eyebrow down there, amid all the prevailing stupidity.
Canadian politics are terribly boring, which is something we should all be thankful for.
On hockey and deciding: What on earth is Mats Sundin waiting for? If only he knew about istikhara.
On praying: When praying for something, one shouldn't ask for the means to an end; rather, ask for the end itself. If you are having financial difficulties, don't ask for lots of money; that money won't necessarily provide your solution, and may in fact bring about more difficulties. Simply ask for relief from your financial woes, and let Allah decide the means. If you're feeling sick or lonely, don't ask for a specific medicine or a specific companion; instead ask for relief from these afflictions, and insha-Allah, you will find what you need even if it is not what you expected.
Pompous uncles: This was supposed to be a post in itself, but just a few things have been on my mind of late. Often, Muslim scholars are often the subject of ridicule by uncles who think they know better. I have observed that, whenever an uncle begins to mock one of these scholars, he will switch over to English, as if speaking a Western language gives him more legitimacy in his tantrums. It is a sad reality that those scholars living in the West who are not well versed in English often get a bad rap, and are not taken seriously.
I understand the importance of speaking the local language, in order to be able to relate to the youth and the greater society. However, the inability to speak English should not detract from all the studies these scholars have pursued; what they have spent their lives learning is far more valuable than any basic language. It might take some time for them to integrate, but if we bear patiently and help them out, the community as a whole will prosper. Our 'ulema have a very high status according to many hadith, and we should appreciate that in its own right irrespective of language or background.
Furthermore, Muslim scholars are, by default, very studious individuals, and learning a simple language like English should not be a huge challenge for them. Many complained about a recent decision by a prominent local mosque to have an Arab government appoint their imam; the new imam speaks very little English right now, and I was among those who thought it was a poor decision. In retrospect, I realize that we should give him and all imported scholars a chance, and not let our pride in language get in the way of appreciating what they have accomplished; the language skills will come with time. I still find it bizarre that the decision came from a government, but that is a topic in itself.
On ignorance: Avoid it if you can.
Canadian politics are terribly boring, which is something we should all be thankful for.
On hockey and deciding: What on earth is Mats Sundin waiting for? If only he knew about istikhara.
On praying: When praying for something, one shouldn't ask for the means to an end; rather, ask for the end itself. If you are having financial difficulties, don't ask for lots of money; that money won't necessarily provide your solution, and may in fact bring about more difficulties. Simply ask for relief from your financial woes, and let Allah decide the means. If you're feeling sick or lonely, don't ask for a specific medicine or a specific companion; instead ask for relief from these afflictions, and insha-Allah, you will find what you need even if it is not what you expected.
Pompous uncles: This was supposed to be a post in itself, but just a few things have been on my mind of late. Often, Muslim scholars are often the subject of ridicule by uncles who think they know better. I have observed that, whenever an uncle begins to mock one of these scholars, he will switch over to English, as if speaking a Western language gives him more legitimacy in his tantrums. It is a sad reality that those scholars living in the West who are not well versed in English often get a bad rap, and are not taken seriously.
I understand the importance of speaking the local language, in order to be able to relate to the youth and the greater society. However, the inability to speak English should not detract from all the studies these scholars have pursued; what they have spent their lives learning is far more valuable than any basic language. It might take some time for them to integrate, but if we bear patiently and help them out, the community as a whole will prosper. Our 'ulema have a very high status according to many hadith, and we should appreciate that in its own right irrespective of language or background.
Furthermore, Muslim scholars are, by default, very studious individuals, and learning a simple language like English should not be a huge challenge for them. Many complained about a recent decision by a prominent local mosque to have an Arab government appoint their imam; the new imam speaks very little English right now, and I was among those who thought it was a poor decision. In retrospect, I realize that we should give him and all imported scholars a chance, and not let our pride in language get in the way of appreciating what they have accomplished; the language skills will come with time. I still find it bizarre that the decision came from a government, but that is a topic in itself.
On ignorance: Avoid it if you can.
Peace and Tranquility Descend Upon Them
Abu Hurairah and Abu Sa'id al-Khudri radhiAllahu'anhuma both bear witness that Nabi salAllahu'alayhi wa salam said, "There isn't a group of people who sit in the remembrance of Allah 'Azza wa jall, except that the angels surround this group with their wings, and Allah's Mercy covers them, and peace and tranquility descends upon them, and Allah mentions them in the gathering of angels."
Muslim
Muslim
August 29, 2008
Love and Hate
I have noticed that many non-Muslims assume that Muslims dread Ramadhan. Many believe that the idea of giving up food and water all day for thirty straight days is unbearable. Many probably think that most of us fast only "because we have to", and not out of a sincere desire for spiritual rectification and renewal.
So I decided to run a simple social experiment, and see how many Google results appear for the following strings: "I love Ramadan", and "I hate Ramadan".
Not surprisingly, the "I love Ramadan" crowd (approximately 900 results) outnumbered the "I hate Ramadan" crowd (approximately 90 results) by a fair margin. I was surprised, however, how few results were returned, seeing as how nearly every Muslim blog I've seen will have at least one post or one comment that discusses the joys of the blessed month. Alternately, "I love Islam" returns over 35,000 results, while only eight results appear for "I love Hajj".
Factoring in different spellings (Ramadhan versus Ramadan versus Ramzaan), the "love" crowd typically outnumbered the "hate" crowd by a 10-to-1 margin. Furthermore, many of the "I hate Ramadan" posts were prefixed with "Not that ...", as in "Not that I hate Ramadan, but ...", so even the "hate" results were not really negative.
So for all those naysayers, there you go: we sincerely love Ramadan. It is a joyous occasion for all, and we are all eagerly awaiting it's auspicious arrival. May we all take full advantage of it, insha-Allah.
So I decided to run a simple social experiment, and see how many Google results appear for the following strings: "I love Ramadan", and "I hate Ramadan".
Not surprisingly, the "I love Ramadan" crowd (approximately 900 results) outnumbered the "I hate Ramadan" crowd (approximately 90 results) by a fair margin. I was surprised, however, how few results were returned, seeing as how nearly every Muslim blog I've seen will have at least one post or one comment that discusses the joys of the blessed month. Alternately, "I love Islam" returns over 35,000 results, while only eight results appear for "I love Hajj".
Factoring in different spellings (Ramadhan versus Ramadan versus Ramzaan), the "love" crowd typically outnumbered the "hate" crowd by a 10-to-1 margin. Furthermore, many of the "I hate Ramadan" posts were prefixed with "Not that ...", as in "Not that I hate Ramadan, but ...", so even the "hate" results were not really negative.
So for all those naysayers, there you go: we sincerely love Ramadan. It is a joyous occasion for all, and we are all eagerly awaiting it's auspicious arrival. May we all take full advantage of it, insha-Allah.
April 22, 2008
Fanaticism
They say hockey is a religion in Canada. It binds fans, amazes them, frustrates them, and gives them something to believe in when all else seems amiss. For many, it is the hope that keeps them optimistic through trials. It brings people from all walks of life together - the rich and the poor cheer side by side when their team wins, and sulk and complain together after losses. From those sitting in the luxury boxes, to those listening to the games on a borrowed radio, everyone shares the joy and pain together.
It is no wonder, then, that it is also plagued by a handful of overzealous fanatics who tarnish the good name of the game and it's fans. When the Habs finally put away the resilient Boston Bruins in the deciding seventh game last night, the "moderate" adherents celebrated by cheering through the streets. Millions of people throughout the province watched with joy as the fourth and fifth goals were scored to dash any chance of an improbable Bruin comeback. But for a few dozen alcohol-fueled hooligans, cheering was not enough.
And so they set aflame police cars, smashed windows of nearby stores, and caused over a half million dollars of damage throughout downtown Montreal in a senseless riot. Just like 1993, when the Habs last won the Stanley Cup. And 1994, in Vancouver. And probably in dozens of other cities for other sports with other passionate fans. In spite of the healthy competition and pure athleticism that define professional sports, it also brings out the worst in people.
Fans of a hockey team are always judged by their class. Every city likes to claim that it is home to the "classiest" fans, while all other teams are characterized by how "unclassy" their fans are. And now the entire hockey world is calling out the people of Montreal as classless, while Montrealers are arguing that the riots were isolated cases that do not truly represent the city of Montreal or the people that live there.
All this seems very familiar to me. The voice of the "true fans", the vast majority of them completely horrified by the barbarism that took place last night, is drowned out by a small number of idiots. And what else are others to think, when the images they see in the media are that of burning cars, smashed windows, and senseless yelling?
When the images in the media portray the same sort of violence and insanity in the Muslim world, it hurts over a billion people in a similar manner. We know what everyone is seeing in the media, and we know it doesn't represent our beliefs at all. But for all our efforts to clear our names, the next case of stupidity cancels out everything good that was said and done.
A few days earlier, in Boston, a Montrealer was beaten nearly to death for wearing a red jersey and being French. A couple of drunk Boston fans punched and kicked him to the ground, leaving him unconscious in a large pool of his own blood. Nearly killed for, essentially, his beliefs.
Some people criticize religion, based on what they observe in the media. They complain that it warps minds, kills reason, and incites hatred. What happened in Montreal, what happened in Boston last week - this was all that and more. Just like one wouldn't blame hockey in general for these ugly incidents, one can't blame religion in general for the ugly acts committed in it's name.
What can be blamed, however, is alcohol. It is that, and not hockey itself, that drives people to such idiocy. It is an unfortunate reality that beer is part of the hockey culture in Canada. One can't sit down and watch a game without being interrupted by a number of nonsensical beer commercials. It is like this with most professional sports, I'm sure, but I can't be bothered to check.
I absolutely hate smoking and cigarettes, and I fully support all the laws that seek to suppress it. Tobacco companies are forbidden from advertising on billboards and in television commercials, smokers are forced to pay extreme taxes to feed their habit, and even the cigarette boxes are required to contain graphic anti-smoking messages. But in spite of all this, I've never heard of anyone causing a half million dollars of damage due to the influence of cigarettes. I've never heard of someone beaten brutally due to the influence of cigarettes. I've never heard of someone cause a fatal car accident because of a tobacco overdose.
Alcohol has done all that, and more. And yet, it is not only a tolerated habit, it is celebrated. And it is somehow spared of any criticism when incidents like last night in Montreal, or last week in Boston, happen. Yes, these incidents are rare, but still much more common than violent religious fervour, which gets all the press.
Alhamdulillah that Islam has protected me from the habits that drive people to such foolishness. For all that critics argue against Islam and other religions, it is perhaps the only force that will protect us from the most fatal influences.
It is no wonder, then, that it is also plagued by a handful of overzealous fanatics who tarnish the good name of the game and it's fans. When the Habs finally put away the resilient Boston Bruins in the deciding seventh game last night, the "moderate" adherents celebrated by cheering through the streets. Millions of people throughout the province watched with joy as the fourth and fifth goals were scored to dash any chance of an improbable Bruin comeback. But for a few dozen alcohol-fueled hooligans, cheering was not enough.
And so they set aflame police cars, smashed windows of nearby stores, and caused over a half million dollars of damage throughout downtown Montreal in a senseless riot. Just like 1993, when the Habs last won the Stanley Cup. And 1994, in Vancouver. And probably in dozens of other cities for other sports with other passionate fans. In spite of the healthy competition and pure athleticism that define professional sports, it also brings out the worst in people.
Fans of a hockey team are always judged by their class. Every city likes to claim that it is home to the "classiest" fans, while all other teams are characterized by how "unclassy" their fans are. And now the entire hockey world is calling out the people of Montreal as classless, while Montrealers are arguing that the riots were isolated cases that do not truly represent the city of Montreal or the people that live there.
All this seems very familiar to me. The voice of the "true fans", the vast majority of them completely horrified by the barbarism that took place last night, is drowned out by a small number of idiots. And what else are others to think, when the images they see in the media are that of burning cars, smashed windows, and senseless yelling?
When the images in the media portray the same sort of violence and insanity in the Muslim world, it hurts over a billion people in a similar manner. We know what everyone is seeing in the media, and we know it doesn't represent our beliefs at all. But for all our efforts to clear our names, the next case of stupidity cancels out everything good that was said and done.
A few days earlier, in Boston, a Montrealer was beaten nearly to death for wearing a red jersey and being French. A couple of drunk Boston fans punched and kicked him to the ground, leaving him unconscious in a large pool of his own blood. Nearly killed for, essentially, his beliefs.
Some people criticize religion, based on what they observe in the media. They complain that it warps minds, kills reason, and incites hatred. What happened in Montreal, what happened in Boston last week - this was all that and more. Just like one wouldn't blame hockey in general for these ugly incidents, one can't blame religion in general for the ugly acts committed in it's name.
What can be blamed, however, is alcohol. It is that, and not hockey itself, that drives people to such idiocy. It is an unfortunate reality that beer is part of the hockey culture in Canada. One can't sit down and watch a game without being interrupted by a number of nonsensical beer commercials. It is like this with most professional sports, I'm sure, but I can't be bothered to check.
I absolutely hate smoking and cigarettes, and I fully support all the laws that seek to suppress it. Tobacco companies are forbidden from advertising on billboards and in television commercials, smokers are forced to pay extreme taxes to feed their habit, and even the cigarette boxes are required to contain graphic anti-smoking messages. But in spite of all this, I've never heard of anyone causing a half million dollars of damage due to the influence of cigarettes. I've never heard of someone beaten brutally due to the influence of cigarettes. I've never heard of someone cause a fatal car accident because of a tobacco overdose.
Alcohol has done all that, and more. And yet, it is not only a tolerated habit, it is celebrated. And it is somehow spared of any criticism when incidents like last night in Montreal, or last week in Boston, happen. Yes, these incidents are rare, but still much more common than violent religious fervour, which gets all the press.
Alhamdulillah that Islam has protected me from the habits that drive people to such foolishness. For all that critics argue against Islam and other religions, it is perhaps the only force that will protect us from the most fatal influences.
Ijtema.net: New, Shiny, and Exciting!
The long awaited ijtema.net revamp is complete! I'm a little late in announcing it, but better late than never. In addition, the winners of the photo contest have also been announced, so take a look at the many excellent submissions.
Other new features:
As always, you can contribute to ijtema.net by directing us to the best articles, videos, and audio content you find through your Internet journeys.
Enjoy!
Other new features:
- Beautiful new layout courtesy of Shazia Mistry
New Multimedia content - the best of Muslim art and video
Podcast reviews
...and more to come!
As always, you can contribute to ijtema.net by directing us to the best articles, videos, and audio content you find through your Internet journeys.
Enjoy!
February 14, 2008
Never a dull moment
Poor Irrelevant Opinions doesn't get enough attention from me anymore. I had thought that I would be posting more often this year given my return to a normal work schedule, without the thousands of kilometres of weekly travel. However, the newfound free time has given me an opportunity to focus on a few side projects that I had been committed to, while writing, reading, and commenting on blog posts fell aside. Look for more information about those projects in the coming months.
Occasionally, I'll bookmark an interesting news article with the intent of writing a post about it. Unfortunately, I tend to forget about them until much later, at which point they are no longer relevant. Today, I happened to stumble upon this old article I had bookmarked about the Three Little Pigs, and Muslim sensitivity. Perfect material for me, really.
The gist of the article is that an adaption of the famous story was pulled from eligibility from a children's literature award for fear of offending Muslims. Not only that, but the book allegedly also offends builders, for as we all know, the pigs build houses of straw, wood, and brick. So if the people who are building houses are depicted as pigs, someone who builds houses for a living may get offended. Brilliant conclusion.
From the article:
Of course, nowhere in the article is a Muslim quoted, nor does anyone from the construction trade offer their insight on the matter.
Why, then, do these judges fear the repercussions of alienating Muslims and construction workers? And God forbid that there be a Muslim construction worker - he would probably go berserk.
The reality is that none of us really care. Pigs, in and of themselves, do not exactly offend most of us. They are the creation of Allah like every other animal. No, we will not eat them, and yes, we do consider them unclean. But they are on this earth for a reason, and surely serve some important purpose in the grand scheme of the universe.
As an open statement to the rest of the world: just ask; it will make you sound a lot less silly. I certainly appreciate your attempts to maintain equity and tolerance, but you should ask us before you tell us what does and does not offend us. You probably won't hear the same answer from every Muslim you ask, but only the most absurd amongst us would be offended by such a book.
Perhaps it was the silly cartoon controversy that put everyone on edge. As had happened with the Muslim world in the early years of this century, the rest of the world became more and more polarized in their attitude towards Muslims. There were those who would leave no verb unconjugated in ridiculing and cursing Muslims, and another camp that would adopt irrational measures to avoid offending us. Both camps often pretend to look for a middle ground, but ultimately come to conclusions that leave everyone unhappy.
Quebec has been in the spotlight for the last few months through the Reasonable Accommodation debates, in which politicians, panelists, and the public have argued over what that middle ground really is. It is unlikely that there will be some grandiose solution to all the problems, but it is perhaps a step in the right direction, with many prominent Muslims having their input heard. Nevertheless, even among Muslims, there is considerable disagreement. Having the hearts and minds of the participants unite on a consistent position is near impossible.
There are, however, some guiding principles that perhaps we can all agree on. First, the "golden rule" is always a good starting point: treat others as you'd like to be treated. Thus, if you do not want to suffer the ridicule of that which you hold dear, then do not ridicule that which others hold dear. If you want to uphold the dignity of your heritage, then let others uphold the dignity of theirs. If you want to protect your own values, expect that others will want to protect values of their own.
This alone is not enough, however. Another important principle is that one should never assume anything on behalf of another. Ask. Investigate. Learn. In a way, this can still fall into the ethics of the golden rule: if you don't want others to speak on your behalf, don't try speaking on behalf of others. Beyond that, though, we must humble ourselves to accepting that we don't have all of the answers on our own, and we need the input of others to form solid conclusions. Of course, swallowing one's pride is never an easy morsel.
A final fundamental principle involves fulfilling one's trusts. Keeping promises, honouring contracts, paying fair wages. If the fulfilment of trusts underlies all of the transactions and relationships between individuals in this country - whether they be immigrants or not, whether they be rich or poor, whatever colour - everyone will get their fair share, leaving no reason to complain. That is, of course, much easier said than done. But it needs to be said, regardless.
There are, of course, many other stories to discuss. The cartoons are back, an archbishop somewhere frightened Europe, a college meditation room sparked a vicious on-line hatefest... surely, there is never a dull moment in the depressing world of incriminating media coverage. Sure, we can try responding to each of these stories individually, protesting in the streets, and flooding the blogs and forums. Or we can simply adopt some common principles of ethics and morality, and leave a lasting impression within our spheres of influence.
Of course, none of this helps those poor construction workers. Oh well.
Occasionally, I'll bookmark an interesting news article with the intent of writing a post about it. Unfortunately, I tend to forget about them until much later, at which point they are no longer relevant. Today, I happened to stumble upon this old article I had bookmarked about the Three Little Pigs, and Muslim sensitivity. Perfect material for me, really.
The gist of the article is that an adaption of the famous story was pulled from eligibility from a children's literature award for fear of offending Muslims. Not only that, but the book allegedly also offends builders, for as we all know, the pigs build houses of straw, wood, and brick. So if the people who are building houses are depicted as pigs, someone who builds houses for a living may get offended. Brilliant conclusion.
From the article:
The judges criticised the stereotyping in the story of the unfortunate pigs: "Is it true that all builders are cowboys, builders get their work blown down, and builders are like pigs?
Of course, nowhere in the article is a Muslim quoted, nor does anyone from the construction trade offer their insight on the matter.
Why, then, do these judges fear the repercussions of alienating Muslims and construction workers? And God forbid that there be a Muslim construction worker - he would probably go berserk.
The reality is that none of us really care. Pigs, in and of themselves, do not exactly offend most of us. They are the creation of Allah like every other animal. No, we will not eat them, and yes, we do consider them unclean. But they are on this earth for a reason, and surely serve some important purpose in the grand scheme of the universe.
As an open statement to the rest of the world: just ask; it will make you sound a lot less silly. I certainly appreciate your attempts to maintain equity and tolerance, but you should ask us before you tell us what does and does not offend us. You probably won't hear the same answer from every Muslim you ask, but only the most absurd amongst us would be offended by such a book.
Perhaps it was the silly cartoon controversy that put everyone on edge. As had happened with the Muslim world in the early years of this century, the rest of the world became more and more polarized in their attitude towards Muslims. There were those who would leave no verb unconjugated in ridiculing and cursing Muslims, and another camp that would adopt irrational measures to avoid offending us. Both camps often pretend to look for a middle ground, but ultimately come to conclusions that leave everyone unhappy.
Quebec has been in the spotlight for the last few months through the Reasonable Accommodation debates, in which politicians, panelists, and the public have argued over what that middle ground really is. It is unlikely that there will be some grandiose solution to all the problems, but it is perhaps a step in the right direction, with many prominent Muslims having their input heard. Nevertheless, even among Muslims, there is considerable disagreement. Having the hearts and minds of the participants unite on a consistent position is near impossible.
There are, however, some guiding principles that perhaps we can all agree on. First, the "golden rule" is always a good starting point: treat others as you'd like to be treated. Thus, if you do not want to suffer the ridicule of that which you hold dear, then do not ridicule that which others hold dear. If you want to uphold the dignity of your heritage, then let others uphold the dignity of theirs. If you want to protect your own values, expect that others will want to protect values of their own.
This alone is not enough, however. Another important principle is that one should never assume anything on behalf of another. Ask. Investigate. Learn. In a way, this can still fall into the ethics of the golden rule: if you don't want others to speak on your behalf, don't try speaking on behalf of others. Beyond that, though, we must humble ourselves to accepting that we don't have all of the answers on our own, and we need the input of others to form solid conclusions. Of course, swallowing one's pride is never an easy morsel.
A final fundamental principle involves fulfilling one's trusts. Keeping promises, honouring contracts, paying fair wages. If the fulfilment of trusts underlies all of the transactions and relationships between individuals in this country - whether they be immigrants or not, whether they be rich or poor, whatever colour - everyone will get their fair share, leaving no reason to complain. That is, of course, much easier said than done. But it needs to be said, regardless.
There are, of course, many other stories to discuss. The cartoons are back, an archbishop somewhere frightened Europe, a college meditation room sparked a vicious on-line hatefest... surely, there is never a dull moment in the depressing world of incriminating media coverage. Sure, we can try responding to each of these stories individually, protesting in the streets, and flooding the blogs and forums. Or we can simply adopt some common principles of ethics and morality, and leave a lasting impression within our spheres of influence.
Of course, none of this helps those poor construction workers. Oh well.
January 06, 2008
Imams are not the problem
Away on holidays last week, I never got around to reading the comments around my "To my neighbour" piece when it was featured on altmuslim. Upon finally reading them, I found much of the same sort of rhetoric that I am tired of reading, that "radical imams" here in the West are somehow condoning or even encouraging much of the extremism taking place. Regarding the Aqsa Parvez murder, one reader mentioned that "it happened because the culture, absolutely preached from the mosque [...] and exhorted on Canadian Islamic websites" forced her father to kill her out of shame and a twisted sense of honour.
I often hear about these phantom "Canadian Islamic websites", but no one ever actually tells us what they are. Certainly, I have read some rather extreme comments by Muslims on blogs and forums, but I have never read anything that comes even close to condoning this sort of behaviour on any legitimate Muslim Canadian website.
And the imams of our mosques certainly are not encouraging this. I have not prayed in every mosque, but I have been in a fairly unique position over the last few years to experience Friday prayers in many different mosques in many cities throughout North America. The Friday prayer is usually a fairly good vantage point by which to get a feel for a Muslim community, and I've never heard anything of the sort from any imam, anywhere.
If it were only non-Muslims railing against these "radical imams", I could forgive them; they're not the ones meeting these people every day and learning from them. But too often, I read Muslims writing about these imaginary imams, never citing any specific examples, but ranting about how they are perverting the religion for their own benefit. I've heard this even from some of my friends, who themselves could not offer any specific examples, falling instead into vague generalizations before conceding the point.
One reader of my article cited an article about an Iranian cleric who allegedly said that "unveiled women should die".
Aside from the fact that the article is uncited and a Google search about this supposed "top Muslim cleric" shows that his only other noteworthy statements involved a campaign to "arrest short-legged dogs", the crux of the matter is that this person does not speak for us or Canadian imams, nor does he have any influence upon matters in this country. If I were to cite some random Romanian priest making some ridiculous claim, would this have any influence on the Christians in Canada? No, and neither would an imam in Iran influence the overwhelming majority of Muslims here.
The complaints against our imams can be that they are sometimes boring; perhaps some of them are not with the times, or lack the knowledge of contemporary culture to resonate with the people. But to condone and encourage the sort of aggression that took the life of a sixteen year-old Muslimah? You would have to search very hard to find an imam who will justify that. If one is found, I am certain that those who follow him would be quick to condemn the statement, and remove him from his post if necessary.
The same people who criticize the imams also speak of the "madrassas" as sinister Islamic seminaries where children are brainwashed with political propaganda and dreams of martyrdom. Again, these allegations are always vague, with no specific examples. Madrassa is not a scary word, it simply means "place of learning". And if you were visiting one for the first time, I'm sure you'd be very much underwhelmed - most are run by kindly uncles teaching the Arabic alphabet (often, quite poorly) in their basement or on the mosque floor.
I am not denying that there may be Muslims out there who hold extremist views. I don't believe they are nearly as much of a threat as the media make them out to be, but there are certainly some Muslims with beliefs that contradict classical teachings, who have a more militant understanding of the religion's history. However, these people are mostly the ones who have pushed aside the scholars and imams, who have failed to heed their advice. They are the ones who went off on their own, ignoring what the imams are teaching, while getting their knowledge instead from shady websites and shadier personalities. It is often through the connection with imams and community leaders that many youth today have protected themselves from extremist thinking, by aligning themselves with classical scholarship rather than letting their own overzealous enthusiasm dictate their beliefs.
Sit with them. Learn from them. Hear them directly, rather than let others tell you what they say and think. Islamic scholarship is a vast discipline with awe-inspiring science and people behind it. Muslims believe that the legacy of the Prophets is knowledge, and that Islamic scholars are the inheritors; we have such people in our midst, a treasure which should not be taken lightly. We as Muslims should show how much we appreciate that, lest it be taken away from us. And I invite any non-Muslims to visit our scholars as well, and hear from them directly; most would be happy to meet you.
Many of the imams and scholars have given up a lot for their communities, asking for little in return, and yet we continue to blame them for all that ails us. And though the character assassination efforts will continue on, these individuals ultimately deserve our honour and respect. It's the least we can do.
I often hear about these phantom "Canadian Islamic websites", but no one ever actually tells us what they are. Certainly, I have read some rather extreme comments by Muslims on blogs and forums, but I have never read anything that comes even close to condoning this sort of behaviour on any legitimate Muslim Canadian website.
And the imams of our mosques certainly are not encouraging this. I have not prayed in every mosque, but I have been in a fairly unique position over the last few years to experience Friday prayers in many different mosques in many cities throughout North America. The Friday prayer is usually a fairly good vantage point by which to get a feel for a Muslim community, and I've never heard anything of the sort from any imam, anywhere.
If it were only non-Muslims railing against these "radical imams", I could forgive them; they're not the ones meeting these people every day and learning from them. But too often, I read Muslims writing about these imaginary imams, never citing any specific examples, but ranting about how they are perverting the religion for their own benefit. I've heard this even from some of my friends, who themselves could not offer any specific examples, falling instead into vague generalizations before conceding the point.
One reader of my article cited an article about an Iranian cleric who allegedly said that "unveiled women should die".
A top Muslim cleric in Iran, Hojatolislam Gholam Reza Hassani said on Wednesday that women in the country who do not wear the hijab should be killed.
“Women who do not respect the hijab and their husbands deserve to die,” said Hassani, who leads Friday prayers in the city of Urumieh, in Iranian Azerbaijan.
Aside from the fact that the article is uncited and a Google search about this supposed "top Muslim cleric" shows that his only other noteworthy statements involved a campaign to "arrest short-legged dogs", the crux of the matter is that this person does not speak for us or Canadian imams, nor does he have any influence upon matters in this country. If I were to cite some random Romanian priest making some ridiculous claim, would this have any influence on the Christians in Canada? No, and neither would an imam in Iran influence the overwhelming majority of Muslims here.
The complaints against our imams can be that they are sometimes boring; perhaps some of them are not with the times, or lack the knowledge of contemporary culture to resonate with the people. But to condone and encourage the sort of aggression that took the life of a sixteen year-old Muslimah? You would have to search very hard to find an imam who will justify that. If one is found, I am certain that those who follow him would be quick to condemn the statement, and remove him from his post if necessary.
The same people who criticize the imams also speak of the "madrassas" as sinister Islamic seminaries where children are brainwashed with political propaganda and dreams of martyrdom. Again, these allegations are always vague, with no specific examples. Madrassa is not a scary word, it simply means "place of learning". And if you were visiting one for the first time, I'm sure you'd be very much underwhelmed - most are run by kindly uncles teaching the Arabic alphabet (often, quite poorly) in their basement or on the mosque floor.
I am not denying that there may be Muslims out there who hold extremist views. I don't believe they are nearly as much of a threat as the media make them out to be, but there are certainly some Muslims with beliefs that contradict classical teachings, who have a more militant understanding of the religion's history. However, these people are mostly the ones who have pushed aside the scholars and imams, who have failed to heed their advice. They are the ones who went off on their own, ignoring what the imams are teaching, while getting their knowledge instead from shady websites and shadier personalities. It is often through the connection with imams and community leaders that many youth today have protected themselves from extremist thinking, by aligning themselves with classical scholarship rather than letting their own overzealous enthusiasm dictate their beliefs.
Sit with them. Learn from them. Hear them directly, rather than let others tell you what they say and think. Islamic scholarship is a vast discipline with awe-inspiring science and people behind it. Muslims believe that the legacy of the Prophets is knowledge, and that Islamic scholars are the inheritors; we have such people in our midst, a treasure which should not be taken lightly. We as Muslims should show how much we appreciate that, lest it be taken away from us. And I invite any non-Muslims to visit our scholars as well, and hear from them directly; most would be happy to meet you.
Many of the imams and scholars have given up a lot for their communities, asking for little in return, and yet we continue to blame them for all that ails us. And though the character assassination efforts will continue on, these individuals ultimately deserve our honour and respect. It's the least we can do.
December 17, 2007
To my neighbour
As part of the Monday original content on ijtema.net, here are some thoughts that crossed my mind after a discussion with a colleague.
Read the entire post here, and leave your comments there.
Update 2007.12.24: You can also read the (slightly edited) piece at altmuslim.com, where it was recently featured.
I don’t blame you for having a skewed image of me. Every day, it seems like there’s another story that undoubtedly affects your perception of the Muslim community. Whether it be the ridiculous response to offensive cartoons, or the nearly daily attacks that take place in our war-torn countries, it must be difficult for you not to think we’re just a little bit suspicious. The murder case here at home, which has dominated headlines this past week, certainly does not help our case.
Read the entire post here, and leave your comments there.
Update 2007.12.24: You can also read the (slightly edited) piece at altmuslim.com, where it was recently featured.
November 19, 2007
Of all things
We have a printout of an e-mail on our masjid notice board that alleges that Coke and Pepsi contain pork. Pork! It sounds quite reaching, almost as if the writer was just trying to scare people, but it's worth sharing regardless.
Personally, I avoid Coke and Pepsi because I don't like the way they taste. I've never seen anything corroborating the pork thing, though. The article itself seemed rather suspect, with little referencing and some rather silly statements (e.g. "Also drinking 6 bottles of Pepsi or Cola at a time causes instant death"). Here's the source of the article.
What do you think? Believable? Far-fetched? Silly? Well, it's no good for you anyway, so best to avoid it.
Personally, I avoid Coke and Pepsi because I don't like the way they taste. I've never seen anything corroborating the pork thing, though. The article itself seemed rather suspect, with little referencing and some rather silly statements (e.g. "Also drinking 6 bottles of Pepsi or Cola at a time causes instant death"). Here's the source of the article.
The scientific and medical research says that drinking Pepsi & Cola leads to cancer because the key element is taken from Pigs sausage. The heavenly books Quran, Bible and Torah forbids eating Pork, as it is the only animal that eats dirt, dung and urine, which makes lethal and deadly fabric polluted germs and microbes.
According to a report published in Jordanian magazine, the head of Delhi University's Science and Technology Center, Dr. Mangoshada scientifically proved that the key element in Pepsi and Cola contains extract from the intestines of Pig which causes cancer and other deadly diseases.
What do you think? Believable? Far-fetched? Silly? Well, it's no good for you anyway, so best to avoid it.
November 11, 2007
Binary Logic
For some reason, I had this post in my drafts for the last six months, unfinished and forgotten. I didn't like it much then, but I might as well post it. In the absence of anything else, here it is.
"What is the matter, you don't like Eid? Why do you hate Eid?"
This was one of the stranger questions I've ever been asked by someone, and I had a really hard time explaining myself. As was the case nearly every year, there was division on the date of Eid-ul-Fitr, and I had chosen to follow the local mosque. My Egyptian roommate, who was nearly twice my age at the time, found it very offensive that I was not praying on the same day as himself. As much as I tried to explain the difference of opinions to him, he took my autonomy as a sign of hatred towards Eid itself.
I've heard the same sort of logic applied in many cases, where one is unable or unwilling to recognize a middle ground, or practice subtlety. Everything is simple, black and white, and not worthy of discussion. Particularly on matters related to Islamic rulings, I would encounter the same sort of mindless argumentation from Muslims who were simply incapable of understanding opposing viewpoints. For many, there is nothing between forbidden and required, between good and bad, between right and wrong. Such polarization occasionally leads to these people taking very principled stands on what they believe to be right, but often it reduces them to silliness.
I recall being out for dinner with a group of volunteers at a recent Islamic conference. Among the volunteers was a contingent of international students of Arab origin, who matched nearly every stereotype thrown at the Arab community. In earlier years, we found it nearly impossible to tap into the potential of this community; they would typically shun such volunteer work, and ignore these sorts of events. But through the outstanding people skills of one of our volunteers, one of the more influential brothers from this group offered his help. And once that one individual came in, dozens of others joined him. This group stuck together, for better or for worse, in whatever pursuits they found themselves.
As we ate our shawarma, one of the Arabs brought out a case of non-alcoholic beer. The Arabs jumped on the case quickly. A few of us, who happened to all be born in Canada, hesitated to touch the cans. While we knew it was non-alcoholic, the very idea of sitting around in a loud restaurant drinking beer did not sit well with us. We all politely refused.
This offended the Arabs. "Who refuses to drink this?", one yelled. Another interjected, "Wallahi! Who do you think you are!"
I didn't understand what all the fuss was about, until this comment:
"Brother! Allah has said not to make haram what is halal! Why won't you drink?"
And there it was. The faulty reasoning that plagues so many Muslims coming to North America - that anything that is not forbidden automatically becomes required. The mentality that we need to do something, just because we can. Above all, it is the mentality that wants to emulate the West as much as it can without blatantly overstepping the boundaries of Islam. I have heard this argument used to support everything from divorce to Loblaws chicken to smoking. That, coupled with "but the Prophet said Islam was easy!", make for a formidable duo in justifying any number of activities.
What transpired then was just one amusing episode of a bizarre addiction to non-alcoholic beer. I remember another friend telling me that he hates the way it tastes, but keeps drinking it anyway because "it is good for his kidneys". This friend was by no means the picture of good health and nutrition, so his insistence on strengthening his kidneys seemed rather absurd. In practice, he came across as someone who simply needed to feed a desire to appear Westernized while remaining within the realm of permissibility in Islam. There is nothing wrong with the action per se, but the silly justifications are tiresome and unnecessary.
Regarding divorce, I recall when a friend of mine complained about his then-engagement going through some bumps. "But I think we'll still get married," he told me. "If things don't work out, we can always divorce." Shocked by how casually he could consider divorce even before getting married, I pleaded with him to reconsider if he had such negative thoughts going in. He replied by telling me that even the Companions of the Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam divorced, so who are we to argue against it? The gaps in his logic baffled me. He never did end up marrying, eventually realizing himself that he could not make things work, and "divorcing later" was not an option he should ever have considered.
The lesson that must be learned is that things really aren't so simple. The ability to think critically on issues appears to be lacking in much of the Arab world, a cultural weakness that betrays the Islamic principles of reason. And this, in my personal opinion, is one of the main reasons that extremism does exist in the Muslim West. I don't think it's nearly as bad as the media would make it out to be, but it would be rather naive to say extremism doesn't exist at all. Individuals are lead to believe that there is no room for nuance, and that everyone must pick a side. And for a few, the side they pick is one which deviates from classical teachings. Admittedly, it is a rather large leap from halality of chicken to all-out religious extremism, but the commonality is in the failure to critically analyze and understand other opinions.
Education is the key. And producing hundreds of Engineers every year from every university is not the type of education that's needed; critical thinking needs to be taught from a young age. Debate and discussion needs to be part of the curriculum. Solid ethics needs to be the underlying principle in the pursuit of all education. And we must all learn that it's okay to be wrong every once in a while; it's a reality we need to accept.
Of course, I'll never hate Eid, but the fact that such a concept could even be imagined continues to tickle me all these years later. But the same mentality could be stretched to hatred of other things, and hatred breeds many dark ambitions. We don't live in a world where "good guys" and "bad guys" are as easily discerned as in the cartoons we grew up watching, and hatred is too strong a feeling to dispense so freely. As such, we need to do away with the lines being drawn in the sand, and take our positions based on our own critical analysis. Like Islam itself, the truth will lie somewhere in the middle.
"What is the matter, you don't like Eid? Why do you hate Eid?"
This was one of the stranger questions I've ever been asked by someone, and I had a really hard time explaining myself. As was the case nearly every year, there was division on the date of Eid-ul-Fitr, and I had chosen to follow the local mosque. My Egyptian roommate, who was nearly twice my age at the time, found it very offensive that I was not praying on the same day as himself. As much as I tried to explain the difference of opinions to him, he took my autonomy as a sign of hatred towards Eid itself.
I've heard the same sort of logic applied in many cases, where one is unable or unwilling to recognize a middle ground, or practice subtlety. Everything is simple, black and white, and not worthy of discussion. Particularly on matters related to Islamic rulings, I would encounter the same sort of mindless argumentation from Muslims who were simply incapable of understanding opposing viewpoints. For many, there is nothing between forbidden and required, between good and bad, between right and wrong. Such polarization occasionally leads to these people taking very principled stands on what they believe to be right, but often it reduces them to silliness.
I recall being out for dinner with a group of volunteers at a recent Islamic conference. Among the volunteers was a contingent of international students of Arab origin, who matched nearly every stereotype thrown at the Arab community. In earlier years, we found it nearly impossible to tap into the potential of this community; they would typically shun such volunteer work, and ignore these sorts of events. But through the outstanding people skills of one of our volunteers, one of the more influential brothers from this group offered his help. And once that one individual came in, dozens of others joined him. This group stuck together, for better or for worse, in whatever pursuits they found themselves.
As we ate our shawarma, one of the Arabs brought out a case of non-alcoholic beer. The Arabs jumped on the case quickly. A few of us, who happened to all be born in Canada, hesitated to touch the cans. While we knew it was non-alcoholic, the very idea of sitting around in a loud restaurant drinking beer did not sit well with us. We all politely refused.
This offended the Arabs. "Who refuses to drink this?", one yelled. Another interjected, "Wallahi! Who do you think you are!"
I didn't understand what all the fuss was about, until this comment:
"Brother! Allah has said not to make haram what is halal! Why won't you drink?"
And there it was. The faulty reasoning that plagues so many Muslims coming to North America - that anything that is not forbidden automatically becomes required. The mentality that we need to do something, just because we can. Above all, it is the mentality that wants to emulate the West as much as it can without blatantly overstepping the boundaries of Islam. I have heard this argument used to support everything from divorce to Loblaws chicken to smoking. That, coupled with "but the Prophet said Islam was easy!", make for a formidable duo in justifying any number of activities.
What transpired then was just one amusing episode of a bizarre addiction to non-alcoholic beer. I remember another friend telling me that he hates the way it tastes, but keeps drinking it anyway because "it is good for his kidneys". This friend was by no means the picture of good health and nutrition, so his insistence on strengthening his kidneys seemed rather absurd. In practice, he came across as someone who simply needed to feed a desire to appear Westernized while remaining within the realm of permissibility in Islam. There is nothing wrong with the action per se, but the silly justifications are tiresome and unnecessary.
Regarding divorce, I recall when a friend of mine complained about his then-engagement going through some bumps. "But I think we'll still get married," he told me. "If things don't work out, we can always divorce." Shocked by how casually he could consider divorce even before getting married, I pleaded with him to reconsider if he had such negative thoughts going in. He replied by telling me that even the Companions of the Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam divorced, so who are we to argue against it? The gaps in his logic baffled me. He never did end up marrying, eventually realizing himself that he could not make things work, and "divorcing later" was not an option he should ever have considered.
The lesson that must be learned is that things really aren't so simple. The ability to think critically on issues appears to be lacking in much of the Arab world, a cultural weakness that betrays the Islamic principles of reason. And this, in my personal opinion, is one of the main reasons that extremism does exist in the Muslim West. I don't think it's nearly as bad as the media would make it out to be, but it would be rather naive to say extremism doesn't exist at all. Individuals are lead to believe that there is no room for nuance, and that everyone must pick a side. And for a few, the side they pick is one which deviates from classical teachings. Admittedly, it is a rather large leap from halality of chicken to all-out religious extremism, but the commonality is in the failure to critically analyze and understand other opinions.
Education is the key. And producing hundreds of Engineers every year from every university is not the type of education that's needed; critical thinking needs to be taught from a young age. Debate and discussion needs to be part of the curriculum. Solid ethics needs to be the underlying principle in the pursuit of all education. And we must all learn that it's okay to be wrong every once in a while; it's a reality we need to accept.
Of course, I'll never hate Eid, but the fact that such a concept could even be imagined continues to tickle me all these years later. But the same mentality could be stretched to hatred of other things, and hatred breeds many dark ambitions. We don't live in a world where "good guys" and "bad guys" are as easily discerned as in the cartoons we grew up watching, and hatred is too strong a feeling to dispense so freely. As such, we need to do away with the lines being drawn in the sand, and take our positions based on our own critical analysis. Like Islam itself, the truth will lie somewhere in the middle.
July 25, 2007
And be not divided among yourselves...
And hold fast, all of you together to the Rope of Allah, and be not divided among yourselves (3:103)
A rather unhealthy discussion took off recently on a Muslim blog that I visit. I've mentioned before how much I dislike on-line discussion forums, because most of them degenerate into pages upon pages of ad hominem attacks and mindless nonsense; it is much worse when the parties involved are Muslim. Earlier, a similar argument took place among some friends, who had forfeited their mutual friendship over some rather petty disagreements on the issues of the day. It was rather sad how two individuals who had been together for so long became enemies so quickly, as anger and pride robbed them of rational thought and reason.
I had read and heard a great deal from scholars about the merits of reconciling disputes between Muslims, but I have never been much of a mediator. Without access to the friends and mentors whose advice I'd normally seek in such cases, I went straight into my collection of hadith and found some beautiful words that are worth sharing here. It also serves as a fitting follow-up to my earlier post on anger.
On Anger:
Abdullah ibne 'Umar radhiAllahu'anh narrates that Rasulullah salallaho'alayhi wa salam said, "No gulp swallowed by a slave of Allah is dearer to Allah, the Almighty and Majestic, than a gulp of anger which he swallows, seeking nothing other than the pleasure of Allah." (Musnad Ahmad)
Ibne 'Abbas radhiAllahu'anh narrates that Rasulullah salallaho'alayhi wa salam said, "Teach people, and give them glad tidings, and don't make things difficult for them, and when anyone of you gets angry, he should remain silent." (Musnad Ahmad)
Silence. Whether it is holding our tongues or holding our keyboards, a little silence can go a long way in maintaining cordial relations.
The second hadith quoted here also speaks of remaining optimistic, and being easy on people. Unfortunately, many Muslims get scared away from Islamic discourse, whether it be in the masjid or on a message board, because we fill these discussions with prohibitions and punishments. Such discourse would be more fruitful and inviting if we were to maintain a pleasant demeanour, and focus on the positive.
On Reconciliation
Abu Darda radhiAllahu'anh narrates that Rasulullah salallaho'alayhi wa salam said, "Shall I not inform you about something more virtuous than fasting, prayers, and charity?" The Companions replied, "Certainly, do tell us!" The Prophet answered, "Harmony and unity between you is the most virtuous act, whereas discord amongst you wipes clean the Deen, just as the razor cleanly shaves the head. Similarly, fighting and hostility amongst you perishes the Deen." (Tirmidhi)
I recall a virus of rumours that had infected my circle of friends in the MSA. It started off as a personal matter between two people, but quickly escalated to one that threatened the very organization. I recall my own judgement being clouded by the thoughts that had entered my heart about the brothers in our circle; lines had been drawn, and it quickly became an "us versus them" matter. Of course, I believed at the time that I had done nothing wrong, that if only "they" would apologize, everything would be fine. We placed the burden of responsibility on the "others", while they placed it on us.
Fortunately, may Allah bless him, one brother saw through this mess and brought it forward, bluntly and honestly. It became apparent that none of us were guiltless; we all contributed to fostering this hostility. While some of us may not have actually said or done anything to perpetuate the rumours, we actively participated in them simply by harbouring them in our hearts. We let the hatred live. We gave it a home, provided it fuel and shelter, and thus we were equally guilty in sowing disunity as those who initiated the rumours.
We talk about "unity" as a slogan frequently, and we also talk about shedding labels amongst Muslims; but in practicality, we're still criticizing one another, and allowing hostility to fester amongst ourselves. The problem is not that we, as a Muslim ummah, don't seek unity today; I sincerely think we do. The problem is that we all think that unity means that others have to conform to our way, our philosophy. It's a function of pride; why should I be the one to compromise, after all? We're all for unity, so long as we don't need to change our own lives in the process.
There is no panacea that will cause every Muslim to agree with one another. Unity must mean respecting one another in spite of our differences. Mere tolerance is not enough; we must honour one another, as Allah has honoured all of us by virtue of the belief in our hearts.
When our own episode of hatred was brought to light, I could not help but think of the rewards that brother must be receiving for his role in bringing us back together. Our little group went on to accomplish some great things, none of which could have been achieved had we let a little pride and anger conquer our brotherhood. Years later, and our group remains tight, though we are now considerably divided geographically.
Sometimes, it just takes a little kick of hatred to find true friendship.
July 18, 2007
Not with a bang, but a whimper
I've always wondered what I would sound like when I finally got frustrated enough to let loose. Frankly, I was a little disappointed.
I've normally been one to reserve my emotions considerably. Occasionally, I would express frustration within a small circle of close friends and family, perhaps, but never to the point where I would say things I regret, or lose control of my better judgement. I never swear, much to the amazement of old high school friends. I used to tell them that swearing too much lessens the value of swearing; I explained that because swearing was so common for them, they'd have no vulgarities to express themselves when they were really feeling frustrated. Everyone knew that if they heard me swear, it would mean that I was extremely angry, because such language had never been heard from my lips before. Fortunately, no one ever had to hear it, because nothing ever angered me enough to even raise my voice. All those years of reserved emotion made me unsure as to whether I could even express myself if I needed to.
It finally came crashing down last week, after the pressures of sustaining a half million dollar project by myself caught up with me. And when I got to that point, unloading all that had accumulated, I was rather surprised at how polite it all was. Still apologetic, my voice no louder than ever before, I worried that my faint plea for help lacked the urgency that raw anger brings with it. It almost felt like a waste, that even in my worst moments, I still came across as quiet and reserved. I had seen others explode before; yes, they would say stupid things, but they were definitely heard. At the very least, it was always a spectacle to see the energy and passion that came from those outbursts, even if the consequences were ultimately against their favour. My own outburst was almost laughable in comparison.
An impending flight cut short my rant, which was probably for the better. I didn't say everything I wanted to, but perhaps I would've let something regrettable slip in if given the time. As I struggled to find sleep over that flight, I thought to myself, was my sorry excuse for frustration even worth it? What was I so upset about anyway? Reviewing all that I had gone through, it all seemed so trivial and inconsequential. Even my weak expression of exasperation seemed overdone and unnecessary.
Anger can only get one so far. It's an emotion that has a powerful reach, channelling energy we didn't know we had, but it is nearly always destructive. There are the rare people who can translate their anger into positive action, but the majority of us let it consume ourselves. It brings out the worst in us.
The Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him once said, what could be loosely translated as the strongest man being not the best wrestler, but the one who controls himself when he is angry. It's true. Anyone can develop physical strength, but the passion of rage will conquer that strength every time. Someone who can conquer that rage, to suppress that passion, has done something far more difficult, far more worthy of respect. That restraint will win more battles than rage ever will. Just ask Bruce Banner.
An old mentor of mine once advised me strongly, do not get angry at people. He said that no matter what a person may do to push your buttons, always look for the good in that person. No matter how hard you have to dig, no matter how deeply it may be buried, there is at least some good in everyone, and our job as Muslims is to find that good, and to wish well for that person. That hidden iota of goodness may, after all, be what changes that person forever. The Prophet salAllaho'alayhi wa salam saw good in 'Umar radhiAllahu'anh, for example, even when Umar's sworn mission was to kill the Prophet. Thus, at no point should we hold a grudge against anyone, or wish harm upon anyone, because we never know what good may be found in that person. Our Prophet was sent as a Mercy to the worlds, and consequently this ummah is also one of mercy; we are not an ummah of revenge or vindication. Whether our anger is justified or not, whether it is grave or trivial, conquering that anger with patience will always yield better fruits than succumbing to it.
My own weak outburst left me only mildly satisfied at the time, and is proving now to have been a big mistake. In retrospect, the hour I spent narrating my frustrations will probably cost me a few points in my performance review, and I'll regret it if I get passed up for promotion. One Day, our entire lives will be subject to a performance review, and each moment that we held malice or unwarranted anger in our hearts will likely cost us a few points again. On that Day, however, "promotion" is eternal, and there's no "waiting until next year" if we are passed up.
I've normally been one to reserve my emotions considerably. Occasionally, I would express frustration within a small circle of close friends and family, perhaps, but never to the point where I would say things I regret, or lose control of my better judgement. I never swear, much to the amazement of old high school friends. I used to tell them that swearing too much lessens the value of swearing; I explained that because swearing was so common for them, they'd have no vulgarities to express themselves when they were really feeling frustrated. Everyone knew that if they heard me swear, it would mean that I was extremely angry, because such language had never been heard from my lips before. Fortunately, no one ever had to hear it, because nothing ever angered me enough to even raise my voice. All those years of reserved emotion made me unsure as to whether I could even express myself if I needed to.
It finally came crashing down last week, after the pressures of sustaining a half million dollar project by myself caught up with me. And when I got to that point, unloading all that had accumulated, I was rather surprised at how polite it all was. Still apologetic, my voice no louder than ever before, I worried that my faint plea for help lacked the urgency that raw anger brings with it. It almost felt like a waste, that even in my worst moments, I still came across as quiet and reserved. I had seen others explode before; yes, they would say stupid things, but they were definitely heard. At the very least, it was always a spectacle to see the energy and passion that came from those outbursts, even if the consequences were ultimately against their favour. My own outburst was almost laughable in comparison.
An impending flight cut short my rant, which was probably for the better. I didn't say everything I wanted to, but perhaps I would've let something regrettable slip in if given the time. As I struggled to find sleep over that flight, I thought to myself, was my sorry excuse for frustration even worth it? What was I so upset about anyway? Reviewing all that I had gone through, it all seemed so trivial and inconsequential. Even my weak expression of exasperation seemed overdone and unnecessary.
Anger can only get one so far. It's an emotion that has a powerful reach, channelling energy we didn't know we had, but it is nearly always destructive. There are the rare people who can translate their anger into positive action, but the majority of us let it consume ourselves. It brings out the worst in us.
The Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him once said, what could be loosely translated as the strongest man being not the best wrestler, but the one who controls himself when he is angry. It's true. Anyone can develop physical strength, but the passion of rage will conquer that strength every time. Someone who can conquer that rage, to suppress that passion, has done something far more difficult, far more worthy of respect. That restraint will win more battles than rage ever will. Just ask Bruce Banner.
An old mentor of mine once advised me strongly, do not get angry at people. He said that no matter what a person may do to push your buttons, always look for the good in that person. No matter how hard you have to dig, no matter how deeply it may be buried, there is at least some good in everyone, and our job as Muslims is to find that good, and to wish well for that person. That hidden iota of goodness may, after all, be what changes that person forever. The Prophet salAllaho'alayhi wa salam saw good in 'Umar radhiAllahu'anh, for example, even when Umar's sworn mission was to kill the Prophet. Thus, at no point should we hold a grudge against anyone, or wish harm upon anyone, because we never know what good may be found in that person. Our Prophet was sent as a Mercy to the worlds, and consequently this ummah is also one of mercy; we are not an ummah of revenge or vindication. Whether our anger is justified or not, whether it is grave or trivial, conquering that anger with patience will always yield better fruits than succumbing to it.
My own weak outburst left me only mildly satisfied at the time, and is proving now to have been a big mistake. In retrospect, the hour I spent narrating my frustrations will probably cost me a few points in my performance review, and I'll regret it if I get passed up for promotion. One Day, our entire lives will be subject to a performance review, and each moment that we held malice or unwarranted anger in our hearts will likely cost us a few points again. On that Day, however, "promotion" is eternal, and there's no "waiting until next year" if we are passed up.
May 13, 2007
In defense of the Sunnah
I remember the deeply offended look on my friend's face. He was, by nature, a very emotional person, but that one moment he appeared to be even more distraught than usual.
It was during Ramadhan, and I had just finished setting up the classroom for iftar. This meant stacking up all the desks and tables, pushing aside the chairs, and setting up the curtains that closed off the sister's section. Typically, there would be two hundred students breaking fast together during my university years, and it was always an honour to be part of it.
I asked my friend what had disturbed him so; I shouldn't have been surprised by his response.
"A lot of brothers are complaining," he said. "They want to start the food right after the Maghrib jama'ah is over, they don't want us to wait for people to finish their sunnah. They say they're just sunnah." Those were the words that infuriated him. Just sunnah. I hadn't known this friend for many years at the time, but we had gone through quite a bit together in those years; we had travelled together to some of the most outlandish places I've ever been, and he always came across as someone who truly loved the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him. In his actions, in his speech, and in his dress, this friend always inspired me by his dedication to the Prophet.
"Don't they realize what they're saying?", he continued. "They're basically saying 'it's just Rasulullah, it doesn't matter. It's just the last and final Messenger, upon whom the way of life for all of humanity until the Day of Judgement had been conferred.'"
It's true. Often, I hear this same remark about something being "just sunnah", implying that it doesn't hold importance or that it can be ignored. Certainly, there are varying levels of leniency with respect to the obligation of certain actions, but that does not obviate the spirit of the sunnah.
There seemed to be two distinct waves of revitalization amongst the youth in the Muslim community where I grew up. The first wave, approximately between 1994 and 1996, was smaller and less dramatic, and included just a handful of people under the guidance of some very dedicated elders in the community. I am a product of this first wave. For our small group, there was a considerable amount of guidance from community leaders and imams who always imparted in us the value of the sunnah.
The second wave was almost exclusively a youth movement, and it touched the entire city. It brought together hundreds of like minded Muslims through sports and social activites, and brought a new energy to the masaajid. Instead of the traditional lectures from imams that us in the first phase participated in, the second phase was characterized by youth circles and discussion groups. Many young Muslims who may have felt uncomfortable with the imams and community leaders were at ease in these youth circles. Thus, the effects were far more dramatic, and brought together a positive change within the community. But in distancing themselves from traditional scholarship amd guidance from elders, there was some unfortunate fallout with this new energy. Many were deprived of the emphasis placed upon the sunnah, and often it was ignored altogether. I do not mean to criticize their efforts, for certainly they did outstanding work that they will insha-Allah be rewarded for. However, it was a common trend that acts from the sunnah were dismissed as unnecessary.
Now a decade later, the community has matured considerably, and the pioneers of those youth movements have taken their roles as community leaders in their own right. But the distinction still remains in that the sunnah is often neglected with the newer crowd; I've been to Islamic events where it was of great inconvenience to the organizers that people would choose to pray their sunnah prayers after the completion of the jama'ah. Sure, the events may have been calling towards the revival of the sunnah, but do those extra prayers on your own time. These same people were the most vocal during the cartoon fiasco, but would prefer to speak and dress like hip hop artists than the Prophet.
It should be understood that sunnah does not mean "optional". Something that is sunnah is something that was practiced and encouraged by the Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam. There are sunnah that the Prophet never left during his lifetime. Some Companions sought to emulate each and every single little sunnah to the minutest details. And anyone that loves the Prophet should also love his sunnah, as has been emphasized in numerous hadith.
Certainly, sunnah is not just those two extra units of prayer, nor is it just the simple clothing or beards or whatever else we often dismiss. It's also the character, the conduct, and the interactions, and to have one without the other is superficial. But this does not mean that we can ignore the more outward forms of sunnah; they're all part of who we are, and shouldn't be belittled or deemed unimportant.
I felt the need to write this in order to give due credit to people who do their best to maintain both an inward and outward appearance of being Muslim. Often, I hear comments by people who insist that donning a hijab or keeping a beard or any other outward act of faith has nothing to do with being a Muslim, and it's only what is in the heart that matters. Yes, it's what is in the heart that matters, but if the feelings in our heart do not extend even so far as our bodies, then there is likely something missing from that heart. Of course, only Allah knows what the heart truly contains, but the outward disposition and behaviour usually offers at least some hints.
I should be the last person writing about this, as my own life is riddled with inconsistencies, not just in the matter of sunnah, but even with the fundamentals. But too often, we dismiss these aspects of our faith; this is a reminder to myself, first, in that I have knowingly neglected so many opportunities to strengthen my connection to the sunnah. We reduce the religion to a set obligations and non-obligations, losing the spirit of what it truly means to be following in the footsteps of the Messenger of Allah. And we fail to pay due respect to those who really do struggle for the sake of maintaining the sunnah; often, we would go as far as belittling them.
In the end, my friend did succeed in maintaining the status quo, accommodating all those people who chose to pray their sunnah prayers. He also succeeded in teaching everyone to wash their hands before eating, and to sit on the floor in a respectful manner while eating. Sure, they may have been relatively small acts of worship, seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But perhaps those little acts will be the little bit that can tip the scale the right way.
It was during Ramadhan, and I had just finished setting up the classroom for iftar. This meant stacking up all the desks and tables, pushing aside the chairs, and setting up the curtains that closed off the sister's section. Typically, there would be two hundred students breaking fast together during my university years, and it was always an honour to be part of it.
I asked my friend what had disturbed him so; I shouldn't have been surprised by his response.
"A lot of brothers are complaining," he said. "They want to start the food right after the Maghrib jama'ah is over, they don't want us to wait for people to finish their sunnah. They say they're just sunnah." Those were the words that infuriated him. Just sunnah. I hadn't known this friend for many years at the time, but we had gone through quite a bit together in those years; we had travelled together to some of the most outlandish places I've ever been, and he always came across as someone who truly loved the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him. In his actions, in his speech, and in his dress, this friend always inspired me by his dedication to the Prophet.
"Don't they realize what they're saying?", he continued. "They're basically saying 'it's just Rasulullah, it doesn't matter. It's just the last and final Messenger, upon whom the way of life for all of humanity until the Day of Judgement had been conferred.'"
It's true. Often, I hear this same remark about something being "just sunnah", implying that it doesn't hold importance or that it can be ignored. Certainly, there are varying levels of leniency with respect to the obligation of certain actions, but that does not obviate the spirit of the sunnah.
There seemed to be two distinct waves of revitalization amongst the youth in the Muslim community where I grew up. The first wave, approximately between 1994 and 1996, was smaller and less dramatic, and included just a handful of people under the guidance of some very dedicated elders in the community. I am a product of this first wave. For our small group, there was a considerable amount of guidance from community leaders and imams who always imparted in us the value of the sunnah.
The second wave was almost exclusively a youth movement, and it touched the entire city. It brought together hundreds of like minded Muslims through sports and social activites, and brought a new energy to the masaajid. Instead of the traditional lectures from imams that us in the first phase participated in, the second phase was characterized by youth circles and discussion groups. Many young Muslims who may have felt uncomfortable with the imams and community leaders were at ease in these youth circles. Thus, the effects were far more dramatic, and brought together a positive change within the community. But in distancing themselves from traditional scholarship amd guidance from elders, there was some unfortunate fallout with this new energy. Many were deprived of the emphasis placed upon the sunnah, and often it was ignored altogether. I do not mean to criticize their efforts, for certainly they did outstanding work that they will insha-Allah be rewarded for. However, it was a common trend that acts from the sunnah were dismissed as unnecessary.
Now a decade later, the community has matured considerably, and the pioneers of those youth movements have taken their roles as community leaders in their own right. But the distinction still remains in that the sunnah is often neglected with the newer crowd; I've been to Islamic events where it was of great inconvenience to the organizers that people would choose to pray their sunnah prayers after the completion of the jama'ah. Sure, the events may have been calling towards the revival of the sunnah, but do those extra prayers on your own time. These same people were the most vocal during the cartoon fiasco, but would prefer to speak and dress like hip hop artists than the Prophet.
It should be understood that sunnah does not mean "optional". Something that is sunnah is something that was practiced and encouraged by the Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam. There are sunnah that the Prophet never left during his lifetime. Some Companions sought to emulate each and every single little sunnah to the minutest details. And anyone that loves the Prophet should also love his sunnah, as has been emphasized in numerous hadith.
Certainly, sunnah is not just those two extra units of prayer, nor is it just the simple clothing or beards or whatever else we often dismiss. It's also the character, the conduct, and the interactions, and to have one without the other is superficial. But this does not mean that we can ignore the more outward forms of sunnah; they're all part of who we are, and shouldn't be belittled or deemed unimportant.
I felt the need to write this in order to give due credit to people who do their best to maintain both an inward and outward appearance of being Muslim. Often, I hear comments by people who insist that donning a hijab or keeping a beard or any other outward act of faith has nothing to do with being a Muslim, and it's only what is in the heart that matters. Yes, it's what is in the heart that matters, but if the feelings in our heart do not extend even so far as our bodies, then there is likely something missing from that heart. Of course, only Allah knows what the heart truly contains, but the outward disposition and behaviour usually offers at least some hints.
I should be the last person writing about this, as my own life is riddled with inconsistencies, not just in the matter of sunnah, but even with the fundamentals. But too often, we dismiss these aspects of our faith; this is a reminder to myself, first, in that I have knowingly neglected so many opportunities to strengthen my connection to the sunnah. We reduce the religion to a set obligations and non-obligations, losing the spirit of what it truly means to be following in the footsteps of the Messenger of Allah. And we fail to pay due respect to those who really do struggle for the sake of maintaining the sunnah; often, we would go as far as belittling them.
In the end, my friend did succeed in maintaining the status quo, accommodating all those people who chose to pray their sunnah prayers. He also succeeded in teaching everyone to wash their hands before eating, and to sit on the floor in a respectful manner while eating. Sure, they may have been relatively small acts of worship, seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But perhaps those little acts will be the little bit that can tip the scale the right way.
May 04, 2007
Cerebration
My mind has been in too many places over the last few weeks and months. As each day goes by, I keep promising to myself that I'll sort things out soon, that I'll reach my goals and clear my mind. But the to-do list keeps getting longer, and the destination keeps getting further no matter how hard I work to reach there. Allah is with the patient, I keep reminding myself. Still, patience can only take one so far; hard work and dedication are key.
With that being said, I'm just going to spill out some thoughts here, with no attempt at cohesion.
Soon, incoherence will be the lingua franca of our times. It seems that texting has become a national sport. Am I the only one who finds this somewhat disturbing? The studies are inconclusive, but I have to believe that future historians will look upon this trend as a low point in communication and the written word. Then again, this same generation has made it commonplace to publish one's deepest thoughts to a worldwide audience, so perhaps there is hope.
Nothing markets better than the truth. My manager and I have both been suffering a nagging cough for over a week. During this time, I finally discovered Buckley's Mixture, a famous Canadian cough syrup; "It tastes awful. And it works", the tagline says. And it certainly does. As soon as I poured it in my teaspoon, I felt disgusted by the bland, colourless liquid that splurted out from the bottle. Taking a deep breath, I downed the teaspoonful of mixture into my mouth in one gulp, whereupon my face and mouth started contorting inadvertently. Such an incredibly vile taste, it was. But within seconds, I could feel the effect through my throat and sinuses, and the relief was instant. Now it has become common practice at work for my manager and I to step out of meetings to "take a shot of Buckley's".
It seemed like the natural thing to do was to visit the company website, and learn more about the sludge-coloured syrup I had just swallowed. For a website devoted to cough syrup, it turned out to be incredibly hilarious. The current contest has participants filming themselves downing the liquid, with the winner being the one whose "bad taste face" is the most twisted and unpleasant. Of course, all this is part of the Bad Taste Tour.
(Buckley's did not endorse or sponsor this message in any way; I just like the product.)
Sometimes, the simplest of reminders are the most effective. I was standing outside the masjid with a couple of friends, one of whom is a colleague based out of another city; he had helped me get my job in the first place, offering me useful interview tips and suggestions. He had been around a lot longer than me, so I'd often solicit his advice with respect to my career, especially with regards to the balance of religion and career obligations. I expressed my concerns about the corporate culture, the same concerns I wrote about here. As I had often been advised to network and establish connections with the senior folk in the company as much as possible in order to advance my career, I lamented that my own reserved nature would hinder my progress. After all, as a matter of principle, I would never even go near any gathering in which alcohol was served, even though these sorts of events were considered to be the best ways to establish oneself and meet with the right people. I expressed a bit of frustration perhaps when I said that I was losing opportunities, even though I would not waver on my principles.
My other friend turned to me immediately and said "No, you aren't losing opportunities. Opportunities are from Allah; there is no progress in disobedience. Allah will open the opportunities for you so long as you keep to your path. Your rizq is already written." It was a message I had heard hundreds of times before, but it meant more to me at that moment than every other time I had heard it. Alhamdolillah for friends who remind me when I forget.
I'm not a very obedient citizen of "blogistan". My posts come few and far between, and my reading list keeps getting shorter. Furthermore, I tend not to participate in the tags that go around. But considering my infrequent updates, I thought I would share in the "Thinking Blogger Award" that has gone through the rounds before finally arriving at me. There is a surprising amount of quality content out there on the blogosphere amid all the nonsense, and I hope I can call attention to some of those pages that I have learnt the most from. At the very least, the content here will make up for my own infrequency.
Seeker's Digest: This is the blog that inspired me to start my own, back in 2003/2004. Not because I share a name with the author, but because he touches on all the things that interest me, be they theological, technological, or academic. On top of that, he offers scholarly insight where most bloggers tend to fall into the layman variety.
Disconnected Verses: This one is new, still finding it's feet perhaps, but the artistic talent being showcased here is unquestionable. Individually, all the contributors were impressive; now, they are all in one place for our reading convenience.
Indigo Jo Blogs: I don't comment here much, but the content is generally poignant and educational. This blog covers mainly current events from a British Muslim perspective, but there is something for everyone.
Writing, Clear and Simple: I've picked up a lot of tips from this blog which I believe has improved my writing. While I haven't fully solved my apostrophe problems, I have fixed some other common errors of mine thanks to this blog.
Lifehacker: I dislike most technology sites, but Lifehacker is different. I'm often asked by colleagues as to how I can complete tasks so efficiently with my computer, and my answer usually references some information from Lifehacker. While the tips are mostly computer-related, Lifehacker offers a plethora of information on general productivity and life skills.
None of these blogs are really personal ones, so this tag won't go any further on those sites. I believe the rules of the tag originally called for us to reference specific posts that "made me think", but there are too many to count.
Enjoy!
With that being said, I'm just going to spill out some thoughts here, with no attempt at cohesion.
Soon, incoherence will be the lingua franca of our times. It seems that texting has become a national sport. Am I the only one who finds this somewhat disturbing? The studies are inconclusive, but I have to believe that future historians will look upon this trend as a low point in communication and the written word. Then again, this same generation has made it commonplace to publish one's deepest thoughts to a worldwide audience, so perhaps there is hope.
Nothing markets better than the truth. My manager and I have both been suffering a nagging cough for over a week. During this time, I finally discovered Buckley's Mixture, a famous Canadian cough syrup; "It tastes awful. And it works", the tagline says. And it certainly does. As soon as I poured it in my teaspoon, I felt disgusted by the bland, colourless liquid that splurted out from the bottle. Taking a deep breath, I downed the teaspoonful of mixture into my mouth in one gulp, whereupon my face and mouth started contorting inadvertently. Such an incredibly vile taste, it was. But within seconds, I could feel the effect through my throat and sinuses, and the relief was instant. Now it has become common practice at work for my manager and I to step out of meetings to "take a shot of Buckley's".
It seemed like the natural thing to do was to visit the company website, and learn more about the sludge-coloured syrup I had just swallowed. For a website devoted to cough syrup, it turned out to be incredibly hilarious. The current contest has participants filming themselves downing the liquid, with the winner being the one whose "bad taste face" is the most twisted and unpleasant. Of course, all this is part of the Bad Taste Tour.
(Buckley's did not endorse or sponsor this message in any way; I just like the product.)
Sometimes, the simplest of reminders are the most effective. I was standing outside the masjid with a couple of friends, one of whom is a colleague based out of another city; he had helped me get my job in the first place, offering me useful interview tips and suggestions. He had been around a lot longer than me, so I'd often solicit his advice with respect to my career, especially with regards to the balance of religion and career obligations. I expressed my concerns about the corporate culture, the same concerns I wrote about here. As I had often been advised to network and establish connections with the senior folk in the company as much as possible in order to advance my career, I lamented that my own reserved nature would hinder my progress. After all, as a matter of principle, I would never even go near any gathering in which alcohol was served, even though these sorts of events were considered to be the best ways to establish oneself and meet with the right people. I expressed a bit of frustration perhaps when I said that I was losing opportunities, even though I would not waver on my principles.
My other friend turned to me immediately and said "No, you aren't losing opportunities. Opportunities are from Allah; there is no progress in disobedience. Allah will open the opportunities for you so long as you keep to your path. Your rizq is already written." It was a message I had heard hundreds of times before, but it meant more to me at that moment than every other time I had heard it. Alhamdolillah for friends who remind me when I forget.
I'm not a very obedient citizen of "blogistan". My posts come few and far between, and my reading list keeps getting shorter. Furthermore, I tend not to participate in the tags that go around. But considering my infrequent updates, I thought I would share in the "Thinking Blogger Award" that has gone through the rounds before finally arriving at me. There is a surprising amount of quality content out there on the blogosphere amid all the nonsense, and I hope I can call attention to some of those pages that I have learnt the most from. At the very least, the content here will make up for my own infrequency.
Seeker's Digest: This is the blog that inspired me to start my own, back in 2003/2004. Not because I share a name with the author, but because he touches on all the things that interest me, be they theological, technological, or academic. On top of that, he offers scholarly insight where most bloggers tend to fall into the layman variety.
Disconnected Verses: This one is new, still finding it's feet perhaps, but the artistic talent being showcased here is unquestionable. Individually, all the contributors were impressive; now, they are all in one place for our reading convenience.
Indigo Jo Blogs: I don't comment here much, but the content is generally poignant and educational. This blog covers mainly current events from a British Muslim perspective, but there is something for everyone.
Writing, Clear and Simple: I've picked up a lot of tips from this blog which I believe has improved my writing. While I haven't fully solved my apostrophe problems, I have fixed some other common errors of mine thanks to this blog.
Lifehacker: I dislike most technology sites, but Lifehacker is different. I'm often asked by colleagues as to how I can complete tasks so efficiently with my computer, and my answer usually references some information from Lifehacker. While the tips are mostly computer-related, Lifehacker offers a plethora of information on general productivity and life skills.
None of these blogs are really personal ones, so this tag won't go any further on those sites. I believe the rules of the tag originally called for us to reference specific posts that "made me think", but there are too many to count.
Enjoy!
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