Faces of Faith

"There is no shortage of discussion about what is wrong with Muslims and the Islamic world these days. From our perspective, it is also important to take time to acknowledge the good that comes from Muslims inspired by their faith," says an article, entitled "Shaping Islam in America: 10 Young Muslim Visionaries," in the latest issue of the Islamica Magazine.

An apologetic argument? I wondered. Why should Muslims always assume a burden of proving their innocence? Why reinforce the presumption of Muslim guilt before innocence?

But despite the problematic introduction of this article, I liked their stated objective: "... to bring attention to the extraordinary efforts of [these] individuals who deserve widespread attention from the community, the media and anyone interested in where Islam in America is headed." That is something our communities need to do alot. Among other things, such efforts highlight possibilities and role models for the community and encourage the members to aspire for the same. I appreciate this effort by the Islamica Magazine.

These individuals come from various backgrounds and occupations. They may even have different preferences and approaches to social issues. But their common denominator is their faith, initiative, and leadership.

Check out their profiles here. I like their individual titles:

Saafir Rabb - The Community Re-builder

Mansur Khan - The Healer

Zarqa Nawaz - The Director

Farhana Khera - The Advocate

Shahed Amanullah - The Information Entrepreneur

Rami Nashashibi - The Activist

Murad Kalam - The Novelist

Manal Omar - The Humanitarian

Eboo Patel - The Bridge Builder

Omar Amanat - The Philanthropist

When Skies Wept Blood: A Review

Guess what I found at a local Islamic CD shop last week? A copy of "Karbala: When Skies Wept Blood"! (trailer) The documentary was released in January of this year in the UK and the US. I did not expect it to arrive here this soon.

An impressive effort. I especially liked the question, the puzzle, in which they framed the whole documentary: The tragic event of Karbala did not start in the year 61; rather, its historical roots should be traced back to the time the Prophet (s) passed away, or more so, to Ghadir.

All throughout, I was absorbed by its powerful visuals and the insightful interviews from various scholars and followers of the Ahlul Bayt (as). The documentary was sort of structured like a majalis. It started with making some historical arguments, then narration of faza'il (merits) of the family of the Prophet (s) and their sacrifices, then mas'ib (tragic accounts of Karbala) along with expressing mourners' devotional attachment to the Ahlul Bayt (as).

A good reminder to the Shia audience, I thought, while watching it. We need more productions like this one, done on an important topic with devotion and creativity. Not just for a reminder to ourselves but also to clarify many misconceptions about our devotion to the Ahlul Bayt (as) and to spread their noble message to a wider audience. I have sent more detailed comments and suggestions to the production team, Red Tears.

Universalize Imam Hussain

A point that I especially emphasized in my comments was this: Would a non-Shia viewer find this documentary equally inspiring too? They can at best 'tolerate' the documentary, as a "Shia thing", just like they must have watched TV Today's Muharram programs, but I am not sure if they could also 'relate' with it. To achieve the latter would require a more subtle approach.

Nearly all of more than a billion Muslims on earth revere the noble family of the Prophet (s). The challenge for us is to build a vocabulary, a language, a discourse through which we can share the same level of inspiration with them. A focus on Islam and universal principles/values for which the Ahlul Bayt (as) sacrificed their every thing would be the key. What we need is to universalize Imam Hussain and Karbala, for all Muslims and for all of humanity. And we need to do that with a proactive approach (opposed to merely reacting to events). For the world today needs that inspiration - of relentless struggle for truth and justice - more than ever before.

The famous Urdu poet Josh Malihabadi has beautifully said:

Insaan ko bedaar tou ho laynay do
Har qaum pukaray gi hamaray hain Hussain

Give humanity a chance to gain consciousness,
Every nation will call out, 'Hussain is ours!'

A Subtle Persuasion

Saw these banners on a wall near Nishtar Park yesterday.

There are many ways of seeing a picture. Just as there are many ways of interpreting a piece of art or a poem. I like to name this picture as "a subtle persuasion". How do you see it? :)

A Moment of Silence

Another bomb blast hit the land of the Quaid leaving many innocent people dead and wounded. This time in the northwestern city of Peshawar on Tuesday, May 15, killing at least 24 people and wounding dozens more. We thought we would take some time to recover from the shocks of the political violence during last weekend in Karachi, which took a toll of at least 41 lives. And here is one more day immersed in blood, one more evening filled with cries and sorrow.

A moment of silence and an expression of despair. What else an average person in the street can do? 'aam aadmi kai pass es kai elwa bhi koi chara hai? I wonder that myself.

But even if that's all we can do, then let this moment not pass into thin air. Let's make it a moment of realization. Realization of the real causes of our suffering. Sometimes I feel that we, as a nation, are unaware of our own plight. If we 'know' it to some extent, we do not 'realize' it (the difference between jan'na (to know) and man'na (to realize)). That's why we attach our hopes to the same people - the product of the same system, under different names and guises - each time one overthrows the other by force or by elections.

That realization would perhaps require hundreds of minutes of silence, in retrospection, in critical reflection. But it would be the first step toward a meaningful change of our conditions. Our experience, our sufferings, our journey over the course of history will eventually instill that realization into our consciousness. Or, perhaps that may happen sooner. There are reasons for hope - for example, in the increasing disillusionment of our people with the current status quo and political tug-a-war, the freedom of media/communications and the highly active civil society in urban areas, and our increasing consciousness of our situation in the global context.

The current political and social conditions in Pakistan remind me of a very perceptive poem that Faiz wrote on the occasion of independence:

ye dag dag ujala, ye shabgazida sahar
wo intazar tha jis ka, ye wo sahar to nahin

ye wo sahar to nahin jis ki arzu lekar
chale the yar k mil jayegi kahin na kahin
falak k dasht main taron ki akhari manzil
kahin to hoga shab-e-sust mauj ka sahil
kahin to ja k rukga safina-e-gam-e-dil

This stained light, this night-bitten dawn-
This is not the dawn we yearned for.

This is not the dawn for which we set out
Hoping that in the sky's wilderness
We would reach the final destination of the stars.
Surely, the night's turgid sea will breathe its last
On the inevitable shore.
Surely, the boat of the heart's agony will somewhere
Come to a stop.

The same poem ends with an exhortation and hope:

abhi chirag-e-sar-e-rah ko kuch khabar hi nahin
abhi garani-e-shab main kami nahin ai
najat-e-dida-o-dil ki ghari nahin ai
chale chalo k wo manzil abhi nahin ai

The earthen lamp shrugs its head in despair.
The night is as oppressive as ever.
The time for the liberation of heart and mind
Has not come as yet.
Continue your arduous journey.
Press on, the destination is still far away.

(Agha Shahid Ali's translation from "The Rebel’s Silhouette")

IT TAKES A VILLAGE: COMMUNITY AND THE CHALLENGES OF THE TIME

“It takes a village to raise a child,” says an African proverb. That is, the parents, grandparents, friends, teachers, elders, religious leaders, in sum, the entire community nurtures a child. The saying may have evoked an image of an African village in your mind where a child grows up playing with friends in the neighborhood. The child participates in religious rituals and celebrations, learns to read and write with peers, and helps the elders in the field or market. And through this experience develops his/her personality, world outlook, social roles, skills, desires and expectations.

This adage is equally applicable to our complex life in modern cities. However, you can also add the modern forms of socialization like modern education, mass culture, media, internet and other such elements of our modern lives to the list of factors that nurture our children and youth. In fact, these modern forms of socialization play a major role in this nurturing. Today our children spend a good part of their day time in school, with their friends, and in front of TV, videogames, and internet, which if you count is more than the time they spend with their parents. How good or bad is it? I leave that discussion for another occasion. But to make a quick comment here: when the motive becomes maximizing profits in any institution, be they the media or schools, you cannot expect your children to be treated like innocent beings to love and nurture rather they are seen as consumers to sell products and make profit of, in one way or another.

This is where a community’s role becomes very important. For it can create the conditions – culture and institutions - to ensure the development of the whole child. Not just the education part, but also in terms of nourishing cultural values, spirituality, positive social interactions, and a sense of purpose, in short, the well-rounded nurturing that Islam has asked us to provide to our children. The community can effectively buffer against the influence of endless materialistic competition being promoted in the name of choice, secularism in the guise of moderation, and individualism and atomization of society in the name of freedom that is part of the package our children receive from the abovementioned modern forms of socialization.

The community can centralize resources that parents alone cannot provide. Not all parents can be super mom and super dad in all aspects of the nurturing process. And not all parents can afford to buy a library of instructive books and latest educational resources for their homes. They can care but they cannot satisfy all the needs of their child. And, then, not to forget those parents that let the TV baby sit their children while they are busy with other chores. Think of the problems that you see today relating specifically to the youth, such as feeling of isolation, stress, peer pressure, generation gap, drugs, crime, and negative relationships. These problems are structurally connected to the rapid changes accompanying the neo-liberal global market expansion, the visionless flooding of mass culture, and the general corruption of values in the larger social context. To expect that the parents could resist these overwhelming changes all by themselves is wishful thinking. Surely, there is no substitute for parents, but they alone are not enough. And don’t wait for a solution to come from the government. Only by strengthening our communities can we tackle these social problems. Only by acting collectively as a community and by developing effective public avenues within our communities can we provide a healthy environment to our children that would nurture different aspects of their personality, talents, creativity, views, social interaction and cooperation, and a positive attitude toward the larger society to change it for the better.

Granted, the ground reality of our communities may not be very ideal. But if the choice is between the private companies (and other such for-maximizing-profit institutions) and our communities, for nurturing the values of our young generation and guiding their lifestyles, I prefer our communities. I see it more practical and effective to invest efforts at making our communities a better experience for our young generation than try to resist the larger structural pressures without them.

(April 30, 2007)

OF GRIEF AND PASSION: LADIES MAJALIS IN OUR COMMUNITY

(Written by KZ with valuable input from family and friends)

I have been meaning to get back to my writing for a couple of months now. Just couldn’t. You know… how our schedules get like during Muharram. I usually had three to four majalis invites for each day. If you live in Karachi, you must have had a similar experience. It’s amazing how our whole community gets mobilized during these days. So much could be said about our majalis gatherings.

The majalis continue after the first ten days of Muharram, especially among the ladies. From the corner areas of Karachi - like Malir, Safora Ghott, Sohrab Ghott, Korangi, Lyari, Queens Road, Defence - to the central areas - like Saddar, Soldier Bazar, Guru Mandir, PECHS, Rizvia - literally hundreds of majalis continue to happen everyday for over two months.

Walk into Soldier Bazar during morning hours in one of those days. You will see individuals and groups of women walking or driving from one end to another end of the muhalla (town) attending the majalis, one after another. You will notice their hands full with niyaz, tabarruk, household items that they bought in bazaar on their way to attending the majalis.

The primary motive, of course, is to remember the great sacrifice of Imam Hussain (as) and his dear ones in Karbala, Kufa, and Shaam. And to gain some practical messages from their example. But, there also are the secondary motives or the ‘latent functions’ of these majalis gatherings, including maintaining networks and doing ‘homework’ for building ‘new’ networks after Muharram!

Even if you do not live in Karachi, you can probably still relate to this experience. Wouldn’t you agree that our majalis gatherings seem to have lost its focus, its meaning, its purpose somehow? Somehow, the secondary motives have become the primary motivation.

If you happen to be a young female, you must accompany your mother in the majalis in our Khoja community, not necessarily for the majalis itself, but for your ’screening’ in front of other aunties. The aunties take it as their responsibility to scrutinize every bit of yours: how you dress, how you carry yourself, how you weep. I wouldn’t have mind if the purpose behind their ‘care’ was to make sure that we young ones do Azadari the right way, that I am learning from the majalis, that I am feeling the pain of Ahlul Bayt (as) in my heart. I wish as elders they would do that instead of distracting themselves and making young ones self-conscious about unnecessary things while attending the majalis.

It's a whole culture that has developed in our majalis gatherings involving certain roles and expectations and instrumental justifications of using the majalis avenue for that purpose. I wish we had other purposive public avenues within our communities that would cater to these other social needs.

Another Concern - The Tableegh Aspect

Back in older days, as I have been told, niyaz, tabarruk, sabeel would attract the non-Shia and the needy to our majalis. Our gatherings tended to be more inviting of other people. Now, our majalis are more exclusive sort. We just feed each other: I invite you to my majalis, you invite me, and we feed eachother - the already fed ones - with the best available niyaz in market.

Really, how much do we generally learn from these majalis, even after years of attendance? Talk about the culture of our majalis - how many times have you seen a thoughtful followup discussion after a majalis among the ladies? The comment I hear after a majalis is usually 'very fine' or 'bohat achchi thi', some times the talk may be about the masa'ib, but then the discussion would move on to other 'usual' stuff. We seem to have missed the tableegh aspect of these majalis. Part of this is because of our self absorption and exclusiveness (exclusiveness even among ourselves, as known to us by the labels 'khoja', 'urdu speaking', 'punjabi' centers).

My neighbor is a Sunni Muslima but she loves to attend Muharram gatherings and has a special place for mourning and tabarruk in her heart. Each year she asks me to take her to a few majalis gatherings. To do that, I really have to consider so many things: where should I take her, what are my options, how many zakiras really deliver substantial material? How inviting would the audience be? Alhamdolillah, I am always able to find a few gatherings where I feel comfortable taking her.

But I so wish that our majalis gatherings - where at times people come for food, business, and other sorts of dunyawi (worldly) chores - instead of being bazaars (as they feel like sometimes) they become true Universities of Imam Hussain (as). Like in a university you have different specialized classes on different topics, I wish our Muharram ‘Ashras in different households and community centers become specialized classes for Akhlaaq, History, Current Affairs, Social Problems, Fiqh, and Aqaid. And after attending hundreds of these majalis each year and for several years, we and our new generation would become graduates in Islam.

The increasing numbers of the likes of the Hafsa Madrassa (here, here) and the tough, rigid kind of their students, who seem to be the least tolerant of differences, should really concern us. There are similar madrassas close to our areas too. What kind of Islam are they learning? Have we done any outreach to them or at least the general Muslim population? What can we do?

It is important more than ever before that our majalis become a source of education and inspiration and we invite our non-Shia fellows in even greater numbers in them. We need to get out of our shy, self-absorbed exclusiveness in our interaction with other communities.

(April 18, 2007)

Photo: A wall frame inside Gamay Shah, Lahore.

SHOWING THE ZAINABI KIRDAR

Merve Kavakci is a Turkish born Muslima who was stripped of her nationality because she dared to wear hijab in the Turkish parliament. She is a mother of two, very learned in Islamic knowledge, and holder of multiple degrees in computer science and politics. She belongs to the emerging wave of those Muslims in Turkey that want to reclaim their Muslim identity, their right to fully practice their religion, and to advance education, social welfare, and opportunities of the modern age to people. An example of the right to practice religion is to put on hijab or veil in public institutions. In Turkey, veil is banned in public offices and state institutions. The ban has its origins in Turkish state’s wish to become modern and to get along with the European nations. In 1999, Merve ran in the parliamentary elections and was elected from Istanbul.

The second of May, 1999 was her first day in the Turkish parliament. Her hijab was on her head as she entered the parliament building. She probably had some idea of what mayhem is awaiting her. She nonetheless carried herself with confidence and determination. Her posture reflected her conviction and pride in who she was – a muhajiba, a mujahida. But a few minutes later, before the oath-taking ceremony could begin, one after another, all her fellow Muslim parliamentarians stood up from their seats. And in a collective display of their ignorance (‘jihalat’) and prejudice (‘taassub’), they started banging, clapping, and snorting at her in frenzy, pressuring her to either take off her hijab or leave the building.

Merve did not remove her hijab. She endured all the humiliation while sitting in her chair. Later she was expelled from the parliament. She was humiliated, she was mentally tortured, but she was not defeated. Instead it was she who defeated those hundreds of parliamentarians in that building and their supporters in rest of Turkey in front of the whole world. With her eloquent speeches and writings, from that day on, she has been exposing the hypocrisy (‘munafiqat’) and tyranny (‘jabar’) of the Turkish state in different world forums, including the European Court of Human Rights, and electronic and print media.

Reading about her in this month of Muharram, about her strong conviction in her Islamic identity, in what she believes in, and her struggle for her rights, for the greater cause of her people felt so reminiscent of the character that Zainab binte Ali displayed some thirteen hundred years ago. Merve was humiliated, her hijab came under attack, but she remained steadfast in the face of all this like Zainab and like Zainab’s mother, Fatima, did. Through her character and eloquent speeches, Merve has exposed the subtle forms of tyrannies of our modern world, tyrannies that takes the cover of so called 'modernism' and 'secularism' in the case of the Turkish state. Merve has exposed the hypocrisy of 'western liberalism' that champions individual liberties and freedom of speech but can't tolerate hijab. Hijab, a simple piece of cloth, yet combined with Merve’s conviction, it is powerful enough to shake the foundations of oppression (‘zulm’).

No oppressor can tolerate such ‘Zainabi Kirdar’. Neither could Yazid of yesterday nor can yazidiat of today, whether it is the overt oppression of Saddam Hussein on Bintul Huda or the more subtle, totalizing logic of western liberalism against Merve Kavakci. But, these oppressors can’t win. They can’t suppress these voices of resistance. They never have been able to do that, they never can.

Merve Kavakci's website: http://www.mervekavakci.net/ (see a small audio clip of the frenzy created by the Turkish parliamentarians against Merve Kavakci on the main page. The clip opens automatically).

(January 31, 2007)

THE ELDERLY NOBLE

So I read somewhere about this fiction novel that focused on the changes in the Egyptian society in the past few centuries. The writer is Muhammad al Muwaylihi. A passage struck me as very illustrative. The main character of this novel is an author who goes to the tombs outside of Cairo for inspiration. One day, he sees an elderly noble who steps out from one of the graves. After introducing himself, the noble asks the author to go to his house and bring him his horse and some clothes. The author respectfully replies that he does not know where the nobleman lived.

The elder noble gets mad and says:

'Tell me which country are you from, for heavens sake? It's clear that you are not an Egyptian. There is no one in the whole country who does not know where my house is. I'm Ahmad Pasha al-Manikali, the Minister of War in Egypt.'

The author replies:

'Pasha, believe me, I'm from pure Egyptian origin. The only reason why I do not know where you live is that houses in Egypt are no longer known by the names of their owner but by the names of their street, lane and number. If you would be so kind to tell me the street and lane number of your house, I will go there and bring you the things you ask for.'

I find this story very interesting. I feel that certain changes have also occurred in our community and the broader Pakistani society that in some ways parallel the changes illustrated in the above passage. Especially concerning the traditional roles of our women. Think about this: Previously women were known as 'munnay ki amma' or 'umme-fulan' (mother of someone) or 'bint-e-fulan' (daughter of someone). Now they are also known as Dr. Masooma and Miss Fatima (as a teacher or a newscaster, for example).

Take another example. Girls in our Khoja families used to get married at 15-16 in the past. I am thinking about the marriage age of our grandmothers and mothers. Now, the marriage age is rapidly increasing: I would say about 19-20 in our Khoja families, generally speaking(, and among many Syed families, about 23-25 or so. In Iran, I would guess 24-25 as the average marriage age for women in major cities.)

Now, is that good or bad, that's another discussion. The point is that our culture is changing. Our society is changing. The traditional roles of being a mother, a wife, a sister, and a daughter are now accompanied by new social roles of being a doctor, a teacher, a journalist, and a social worker.

Are we ready for these changes? How are we accommodating to these new roles? I am thinking about the different kind of pressures that a girl faces in our community if she is 22 and not yet married. The subtle comments that elder aunties would pass, which many times are out of benevolence and true concern, often make the girl feel that her life has come to a stand still. There is no purpose, no meaning in life anymore for her unless she gets married and advances to the new role of being a wife. I am also thinking about many girls that leave their education in the middle after they getting engaged or married. Sometimes because they feel they have gotten too busy. Sometimes because their husbands or husbands' families do not like them to pursue higher education ('aakhir usay bachchay hi to paalnay haiN').

I mean to present the above examples only as illustration to state the issue. The transforming role of women in our time and in our community is something we need to assess urgently, especially if we are concerned about issues like generation gap, growing number of divorces and marriage conflicts in our community. If today our girls have aspirations for higher education or participation in the larger society or have made ideals for prospective spouses, it is not very useful to blame media for all this and do nothing about understanding these issues. Those that are concerned sometimes only emphasize traditional piety and traditional roles for women as a solution. For example, they would engage or marry their son or daughter at 15-16 while these youth may still be in secondary school or in the first year of college. These youth may not have a good idea of what they want to do in their lives, what kind of spouse they are looking for, what kind of family arrangements they prefer. They suddenly find themselves in the midst of everything. Especially in the girl's case, the in-laws then play a major role in determining the activities and goals of her life - for example, the extent of which she can pursue her education. No wonder we are seeing more and more cases of marital conflicts and divorces in our Jamaat. Some others that are also concerned about this issue, especially among the youth, tend to get reactionary at times but often do nothing more than expressing frustration and rebelling in various forms. That doesn't help much either.

I really feel we need to adequately assess the changes happening in the social organization of our societies. And instead of falling into one or another camp, we need to develop a third way that is true to Islamic values and considerate of modern changes.

(December 24, 2006)

ABOUT A PEN-NAME

KZ is a pen name that I used about eight years ago, couple of years before leaving abroad for higher studies, to publish a piece in a local community magazine. The article was about hijab, women, and their participation in society. My inspirations was primarily Shaheed Mutahhari - the profound thinker and activist.

In that article, KZ outlined the dilemma that many women confront in our modern era. A dilemma that especially challenges the Muslim women and is fundamental to their long historical struggle. The dilemma is this: How is liberation from the shackles of jahilia and oppression possible (which are forced upon sometimes in the name of tradition and other times in the name of religion), how is the recognition of their equal dignity and respect, opportunities for the development of their potentials and talents, and their participation in the larger society all possible, but without falling into the trap of modern materialism, from becoming commodities and mindless consumers in the service of capitalism, which is only another from of oppression over female bodies? In other words, Muslim women today would not want to go back to the confines of jahilia but they do not see their liberation in becoming models for Lux Style and Victoria Secret either. Is there a third way out?

Much has changed in these past years. A new generation is assuming the face of our closed communities. With schooling, entry into variety of professions, media, internet, this new generation is much more connected to the mainstream compared to the previous generations. The boundaries that traditionally circumscribed our self-involved community are now expanding. My own experience and thinking have expanded in many ways in these years. As I think through that question again, it seems to me that the dilemma that KZ stated was a reflection of the broader challenge that all Muslims, and for that matter, all of humanity is confronting today, especially the young males and females, who hold the future in their hands. A challenge to construct that third way confronting the confusions, dilemmas, temptations, and contradictory messages of our modern era.

To build a perspective of that third way is the objective of this blog. Somehow I feel that KZ’s deep concerns, relentless search for truth, sincere faith, and never ending optimism all together could penetrate into some of these modern dilemmas. KZ's reflections will be very visible in many posts that you will read in 'sporadic meditations'.

BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION

In His Name, the Most High

I consider myself an apprentice in the craft of social sciences and humanities. A rational craft that I wish to tie in with the pursuits of heart as a seeker in search of the 'Essence' of reality.

The purpose of this blog is to organize some thoughts and to develop a constructive dialogue with the readers. 'Meditations,' because it allows a break from the routine and provides a space to reflect. Also because it brings together elements of imagination, knowledge, perceptions, and reflections. And none of these ingredients has to be original or conclusive everytime. The outcome of these meditations may strike you as interesting, thought provoking, mere fiction, or simply absurd. I leave that on you! 'Sporadic,' because these meditations won't be very frequent.

Many posts on this blog will be an assortment of quick thoughts, news items, prose and poetry from my readings and observations on issues intersecting history, society, and spirituality. In this sense, this blog is also a repository of bits of learning that I do.

Hope the readers find some material on this blog useful. Please feel free the leave comments :)