Maryam Sakeenah – Page 3 – My Bit for Change

An Instructive Absurdity

Much has been written about the Theatre of the Absurd in Islamabad on the Ides of January. I wouldn’t dignify it with comment on the agenda, the proceedings, the success or the lack of it. But I am interested in examining how it could have happened, with the support of the many thousands who braved the cold and the rain and stood their ground. Hope is a great thing. What drove the many to Islamabad in the face of security threats under the grey skies was hope. But what makes it ironic and poignant is how unworthy was that which they pinned their dreams and expectations to.

But when deprivation, helplessness, desperation beat hope up to a frenzied furore, and when you add to this the ignorance and gullibility of the average Pakistani, you have what you saw in Islamabad: men women and children risking all to lend strength to a controversial cult figure ensconced in his well-furnished mobile cabin crying hoarse about justice while the devotees that had made his absurd drama happen shivered in the cold in the open, aware of the ever-present fragile security situation in this country.

While the parallel with how the Lal Masjid crisis was brutally dealt with brings out the merits of democracy- any democracy, even as bad as this one- there are other lessons to be learnt. With crowds cheering to the sensational rhetoric emerging from the Hallowed Container, I wondered why the many far less controversial veteran Islamic scholars that have lived and died in this country, could never manage to call the shots or muster up a following as large or as willing to brave the billows to rally to their leader’s call. Yeats wrote: ‘The best lack all conviction, while the worst are filled with passionate intensity.’

There are lessons to be learnt by Islamically inclined leaders and organizations. Qadri’s inclusive appeal, his embrace of diversity and reaching out to minority groups and sects has been clearly articulated. In the wake of 9/11, his masterstroke was in managing to emerge as one of the few voices from this part of the world categorically rejecting extremism and the Taliban’s misuse of religion to justify violence. The voluminous treatises on tolerance in Islam, virtues of non violence and the fatwa against terrorism and suicide bombings was an instant hit for the very fact that it was presented from this part of the world by a beard-sporting individual in religious headgear, when others of the kind busied themselves criticising US policies solely and exclusively, deflecting criticism away from the malaise within. The international acclaim and support he has garnered is something to speak of.

One can compare this to the fact that many religious groups and individuals had in this time produced article after article and delivered sermon after sermon almost entirely focused on refuting deviant innovative practices among other sects, democracy as a kufr-based system and the media as a vicious propaganda-machine. Islamic institutions produced work on the intricacies of theology, the curse of nationalism and the need for ruling by Islam, all in a language and manner that relates little to the average Pakistani Muslim. When the nation was beset with challenges to its very integrity and survival at the hands of those operating in the name of Islam, Islamic scholars busied themselves in traditional theological discourse, occasionally issuing fiery critique of American policy and the Zionist and secular lobby. Few voices rose to reject the rise of extremist religiosity that took up violence against non combatants and had the audacity to sanctify it in the name of Islam.

Few voices reached out to the public confused between the extremist and the secular-liberal discourse, seeking a satisfying, middling narrative. Few addressed with precision and clarity the problems of the mass-man. Few addressed growing concerns in the rest of the world about violence in the name of Islam on the rise in this part of the world. It is a fundamental principle of conventional morality that self-criticism is nobler. By failing to rise to the occasion, they have reduced themselves to utter irrelevance, ceding ground to ambitious opportunists wearing the ravishing guise of religiosity like Qadri in a nation peopled by the religiously sentimental semi-educated and illiterate.

And this brings us to the most vital point- in the final analysis, the grandiose Theatre of the Absurd in Islamabad highlights like never before the fact that the greatest challenge we confront is the ignorance and lack of awareness among the common man- and this threatens to make a mockery of our still nascent democracy. It reduces a nation of 180 million to slogan-chanting, gullible, hero-worshipping rabble taken in with whoever can play the Promised Messiah best. And as long as we do not take on this enemy within, demagogues and those practised in the art of publicity-seeking theatrics will continue to claim attention they do not merit- by the sheer numbers of their ignorant, juvenile, emotionally charged and intellectually naive fan-following.

Maryam Jameelah: ‘With An Eyeful of Madina’s Dust’

“You have to read these”, my friend compelled me, giving me a couple of yellowed, printed-long-ago sort of books. That gave me my first glimpse into the fascinating life and inspiring works of Maryam Jameelah.

Born as Margaret Marcus into an American Jewish family who cared little for religion and were active believers in the American Way, it was curious how that little girl refused to fit into that life and culture and came to realize it wasn’t the glittering American Dream, after all. She sought answers and found herself interested in the exotic and oriental. Young Maggie Marcus’s fascination with oriental cultures led her to meet many New York Arabs and Muslims, from where she was introduced to Islam.

At a relatively young age, Maryam began to study and to read up on Islam and Muslim culture. She found in Islam what the society around her lacked and never could give her. She found herself heartily in agreement. From then on, there was no going back. After her reversion to Islam in 1961, it became clear to her that New York couldn’t be her home any more. The odds were too many.

Soon after, Maryam began regularly corresponding with Muslim leaders and scholars throughout the world including Maulana Maudoodi, in whose ideas she found a close kinship. At his invitation, Maryam shortly moved to Pakistan and settled in Lahore. Here, she lives with her husband, four children and the extended family members, spending her days reading and writing regularly for the Muslim World Book Review on a wide range of issues and subjects related to Islam and the West, and the resurgence of Islam.

Maulana Maudoodi had once called Maryam Jameelah ‘a tropical sapling planted in the Arctic.’ Reading through the details in the biographies my friend had lent me, there was so much that truly moved one. What inspired me was how a young mind, with no Islamic influence around, grew to develop such a seasoned vision of Islam, such courage to enable her to resist all the tempting glamour of a privileged life in a developed society. Her search was honest and it rested only after having achieved that which alone fulfilled.

After her arrival in Pakistan, Maryam had to grapple with a totally different lifestyle and cultural milieu. She reminisces of the linguistic barrier, the climate she was totally unsuited to, the large family structure and the hygiene conditions. It could hardly be called ‘home’ for a young New Yorker. However, this cultural ‘leap’ Maryam Jameelah had undertaken was in fact also a ‘leap of faith’, making her amazingly resilient.

Some of the most beautiful passages in Maryam Jameelah’s biography which taught me much were about how the young New York girl seeks and appreciates the beauty in the simple ways of Muslim culture. For her, eating out of a common earthenware dish is beautiful for the warm sharing it involves; walking barefoot on a dirt floor and making ablution out of a clay pot are the simple, natural pleasures of life, the rare delights of the unsophisticated simplicity_ uncorrupted by materialism and artifice_ that is essential to Islam. She warms up to the largesse, generosity, hospitality of values engendered by Islam.

The flies, the heat, the dirt, the discomfort and inconveniences fail to bring low the indomitable spirit. Surely, the eyes beholding so much beauty in something a ‘ Westernized’ mind would sneer at must be beautiful_ ‘wearing in the eyes the dust of Madina’, as Iqbal would have said.

Getting a fuller view of Maryam Jameelah, I ended up reading several of her work on Islam and the West, which were certainly deeply insightful, incisively critical_ the product of an analytical mind and a passionate heart. It was around then that my friend called up, and in high pitched tones of excitement, told me of a rare discovery: she had actually traced Maryam Jameelah to her home! She had simply followed the publishers’ address given at the back of one of her books_ printed back in the 70s, and praying ardently that they hadn’t shifted since then, actually sought out the place!

Next Saturday evening we were both threading our way through the streets of Sant Nagar_ not to forget stopping at the florist’s on the way to get a bouquet of ‘Nargis’_ decidedly ‘Nargis’_ we had to be as ‘oriental’ as would suit the occasion.

On the way, observing the narrow, bumpy and dusty streets and the barefooted children playing around, I thought I could feel that beauty Maryam had sought in there too. This was so removed from the urbanized quarters_ an island within a monstrosity of ‘development.’ The car halted before an old house much like the ones around. We brightened up when a bright, cheerful and warm face appeared_ Moon Apa’s, who had facilitated the visit. She made us feel welcomed- rather, at home. I think I understood how Maryam Jameelah had so effortlessly managed to say ‘I belong.’

To my left, I saw a huge courtyard which immediately aroused the feeling of ‘dejavu’_ it clicked… I remembered a page from Maryam Jameelah’s biography… suddenly, the room filled up with gaily dressed women from the 70s laying out traditional sweetmeat dishes to welcome their guest from New York who had chosen to live among her companions in faith.

We said our Maghrib prayers in the drawing room where we were waiting adjacent to Maryam Apa’s room. Folding up the prayer mat, my heart thumping wildly, I couldn’t keep from looking at the dear old profile etched across the open window, at the head of silvery-white hair draped in a white dupatta (scarf), lowered on the prayer mat in sajdah. I felt the unspeakable blessedness of the moment filling up my veins. Some things just cannot be expressed.

Most of what we heard Maryam Apa say, we had already read in her books. But to see it come alive in the full-throated voice which had in it the energy and vitality of her rich heart; to see that ‘undying flame’ of the unbeaten spirit in the fine old eyes, and the deep-seated gratitude and thankfulness for the life she has lived was an experience unsurpassable. She brightened up sharing memories of the past, shyly smiling like a little girl, her beady eyes twinkling even though she was frail and volatile with age, exhausted and not very mobile any more.

Since she settled in Lahore, Maryam Jameelah has been a prolific writer. Her work reflects a deep, incisive and analytical understanding of Western culture and civilization. Being an ‘insider’, and not having lived in a colonial or postcolonial set up, she digs deep into the very foundations of utilitarian-materialist society and with a rare, refreshing vision and raw honesty, exposes it down to its bare bones. She feels intensely its spiritual bankruptcy and the toll materialism has taken on the life of the average American, reducing life to a struggle for material prosperity and comfort, no more.
However, the deeper questions remain unanswered, unresolved, and the inner self unsatiated:

“It is this distressing evolutionary process that has today made America a slave of machines. The supremacy of the USA is accepted all over the world and its hand is seen in everything that happens anywhere. No country, Muslim or non-Mulsim, is altogether free from its control and domination. Today America has enslaved the world with its way of life but it has itself become the slave of machines. It is a prisoner of its lifestyle, of material progress, factories, laboratories and of fancy goods and gadgets. Man here has got so completely cast in the technological mould of life that his ideas and emotions have also become mechanical. The properties of rock and iron have entered into his soul. He has become narrow and selfish, cold and unfeeling. There is no warmth in his heart; no moisture in his eyes. This is the reality I have sadly observed during my stay in America.” (Maryam Jameelah in ‘The Resurgence of Islam and Liberation from our Colonial Yoke).

It is this dissatisfaction and disappointment with the deceptive sheen of utilitarian capitalism and all it could ever offer that makes Maryam Jameelah embark on a search for meaningful life true to the purpose we are sent with, in tune with the ebb and flow of nature, imbued with simplicity and spirituality. She finds this fulfilment in Islam and Muslim culture, and this is where the seeker in her finds the anchor to hold on to. They say, ‘beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder’. The vision that rejected the emptiness of the culture of materialism and narcissism finds out the beauty of the ‘Muslim’ Way of Life:

“The remedy for the problems of the modern world is the adoption of absolute transcendental values. The fallacy that everything must change with changing times makes life devoid of meaning and purpose since there is nothing of permanent worth. It is responsible for our ‘throw-away’ culture which considers everything disposable. The relativity of values is responsible for the unprecedented epidemic of vulgarity and obscenity in the mass media, of arts and entertainments, the generation gap, widespread alcohol and drug addiction and suicide as a leading cause of death. If everything must change with the changing times, human dignity and the nobility of character are almost impossible to achieve since these are based upon permanence and stability in the moral order.”

“Modern man desperately needs a Supreme Authority for reference to distinguish between what is good and what is evil, what is right and what is wrong, what is beautiful and what is ugly. This does not mean totalitarian dictatorship but the Rule of Law in the highest sense. Only the Divine Law of the Shariah is impartial and just; where ruler and ruled, rich and poor, young and old, celebrities and ordinary anonymous folk are equally subjected to its jurisdiction… the authority of the Shariah proceeds from Almighty Allah. Thus it is feared, esteemed, loved and obeyed simultaneously. It combines the internal sanctions of fear of Allah and His retribution in the Hereafter with severe but just punishments for violation of that law on which the health of the individual and society depend.”

Her belief in Islam as the panacea and the absolute Good is powerful and authentic:

“The call of Islam to modern man is the call to stability and inward peace. A society based on the precepts of fear and reverence for the Divine Law will not be troubled with crime, violence and lawlessness.…Individually, Islam would bring a direction, meaning and purpose to life which materialistic cultures cannot provide; an inward serenity and peace even in the midst of external frustrations and adversity… the ugliness of our environment would be supplanted by beauty…” (Islam and Modern Man)

Again, being originally an outsider, she does not take the ways of Islam dully as a habit but delights in its refreshing distinction from the materialism and artifice she has known and come to detest. Observing the contrast directly, closely and first hand, Maryam Jameelah’s later works show a seasoned understanding of the inner dynamics that make post-Enlightenment secular-liberal Western society what it is and the influences_ direct and indirect_ it exercises on what it calls the ‘developing’ predominantly Muslim world. She studies and presents an analysis of Western philosophy and traces its evolution till the point where the current secular, capitalist-materialist social structure was realized. She analyses the motives and methods of Western imperialism, colonial rule and the state of perpetual neo-colonialism the Muslim world labours under. She is bitterly critical of modernist Muslims who believe that in the Westernization and ‘modernization’ of Islam lies its hope for survival and progress:

“The earliest modernizers in the Muslim world were dismayed by the contrast between the material backwardness of the Muslims and the dazzling energy and concrete accomplishments of Europe. They thought that if only the Muslims could imbibe modern knowledge through modern education, their people would become just as strong, progressive and prosperous.
Some, like Jamaluddin Afghani and Shaikh Muhammad Abduh sincerely believed that this was the proper road to Islamic revival in its call to modern man. The leaders of the Muslim countries accepted this advice without question. More than a century has passed since then but although all Muslim countries have adopted the Western system as their own, they remain poor, weak, backward…”

“Yet the Orientalists and the modernizers insist that the Muslims are weak because they are not Westernized thoroughly enough and prescribe another dose of the same harmful diet. Those who merely imitate and not create those who are always passive receptors instead of active givers are defeated in the inevitable course of events because their initial position is one of failure. The call of Islam to modern man can succeed only if it proceeds from a position of strength, independence and self-confidence.”

“Why is Westernization so attractive to the Muslims as it is for everyone else? It is irresistible because it is easy. Contemporary civilization is based upon self-indulgence while that of Islam requires sacrifice, altruism, discipline, self-control and endurance which are difficult. But self-indulgence leads to decadence and decline while the opposite qualities, which Islam demands, lead to superior strength, unity and virtue. If practiced in its right spirit, Islam leads to social integration. Self-indulgent materialism leads to social disintegration an ultimately collective suicide…”

The times in which Maryam Jameelah’s writing is placed, the 1960s to 80s were when the groundwork for contemporary politics was being laid and much of the trends today were taking shape. Her analysis and observations therefore, help one understand the roots and implications of contemporary socio-political issues. Her work bears striking relevance to current-day dilemmas_ certainly the vision of an eye gifted with foresight.

Although placed in times when the Muslim world was ravaged by modernist post-Kemalist reform movements like President Nasser’s in Egypt, Maryam Jameelah’s work is set apart, shunning all such influences, safely cocooned in her firm fidelity to the fundamental sources of Islam and her sensitive appreciation of Islamic tradition. She passionately defends this ignored treasure, showing it to the world in its unclouded, natural splendour. She believes in the eternal dynamism of Islamic tradition, its eternal relevance as a means to establish a viable egalitarian, peaceful, just and welfare-oriented society in the present day, modelled on the insights provided by the first Muslim community in Madina. She pleads her case convincingly and passionately:

“It is often asserted by orientalists that the values and ideals of traditional Islamic civilization have no relevance, even for Muslims today because, like all non-European cultures, it was the product of an antiquated tradition of the pre-scientific age. They assert that only secularity is relevant to modernity, to change, to continual technological innovations, and their social consequences. Since the genuine Muslim is a traditional man, he can therefore have nothing of relevance to contribute to the daily life of the modern man. But despite the drastic environmental transformation brought about by modern technology, the basic human drives and needs remain unchanged. Therefore modern man is just as thirsty for the spiritual sustenance which alone gives life its meaning, direction and purpose as was his ancestors, even if he is not consciously aware of it.”

“It is the purpose of those who call modern man to Islam to awaken him to the urgent intensity of these needs, not only for the individual but for the whole of human society. Unfortunately, there remains another great obstacle in the path of a modern appreciation of Islam. Islamic civilization was not only remote from modernity in the technological sense; it seems even more remote from the modern mind in its moral ideals, which cannot be appreciated by the secular man or even regarded by him as desirable. The spiritual ideals of Islam can be understood only by truly God-fearing people, who yearn for God’s mercy and salvation in the Hereafter.”

“Those who wish to call modern man to Islam must make him understand and appreciate such virtue which is utterly foreign and incomprehensible to the materialist. By an effective presentation of the profound richness of Islamic culture as an historical acuality in the life of the Muslims until the recent past, he must make the modern man appalled by the spiritual poverty in which he must live and long for a better life not limited to this world.” (Islam and Modern Man)

In the context of the contemporary dilemmas of achieving ‘liberation’, ‘pluralism’, ‘enlightened moderation’ outside of Islam and remoulding Muslim societies to toe the Western line and achieve the Western ideal of Secular-liberalism, Maryam Jameelah’s works have perhaps a relevance more than ever before.

While Muslims debate which ‘brand’ of Islam be adopted to appease the imperious demands of Western imperialism; while we concoct the smothering labels of ‘extremist’, ‘secular’, ‘modernist’, ,moderate’, ‘liberal’ and ‘conservative’ and seek an identity alien to our real, true essence, we need to rediscover the beauty and quiet superiority of the pristine ‘Muslim’ way as lived by the Prophet (S) of Islam and the earliest generation; we need to make that legacy speak to us again of our problems and dilemmas and provide a way forward.

Maryam Jameelah, in throwing overboard the naive presumptions she was socialized into, prejudices she inherited and wholeheartedly choosing to live by the way of Islam with pride and passion, has a lot to teach us as we still grope in the darkness for an identity.

A Method in The Madness?

Attacking a girl who expressed her will to educate herself and others like her is a crime most heinous is something every right-minded human being would assent to. There is, quite unsurprisingly therefore, an absolute consensus among Pakistanis and the rest of the world about the reprehensibility of the act_ and that certainly tells us our hearts are still in the right place. It is also a given that whoever is behind this attack is evil.

Thinking thus is not leftist or rightist, or liberal or conservative or religious or secular. It is just common decency. But I must risk being controversial beyond the facile narrative of this episode. There are vital questions that need to be asked. For one, who would do this, and why really? I am told it is the thing called Taliban. But I must be cautious against unproven assumptions. Not because I am a Taliban sympathizer, but because I do not know enough to make that conclusion other than the fact that one Ehsanullah Ehsan claimed it was the Taliban. He also tells me he wants her killed because she ‘promoted secularism’ and had the shamelessness to quote to me the Quran and the Sunnah to justify the most despicable act. Indeed, the devil can cite scriptures for his purpose.

I would really like to know and condemn whoever is behind this in the strongest possible terms. But I cannot but put my finger on a murky, dubious and elusive entity that is called Taliban. I do not know what that is, except that it is an umbrella-term for something far more nuanced and complex than the term implies; used more liberally, loosely and expediently than it should- by both those who call themselves the Taliban as well as those who use it for others. Because while it originally described a popular defensive struggle against warlordism and civil strife in Afghanistan and thereafter against the US occupation of the same, it is now adopted by a band of sorts, consisting of mercenaries, petty criminals, hired assassins, agency funded terrorists, double agents, spies and pathological fanatics. Their link with the original Pashtun resistance by this name in Afghanistan remains unclear and questionable, and often denied by mainstream Taliban leadership in Afghanistan.

The skewed up mindset I read in the letter by Ehsanullah Ehsan is sickeningly diabolical. I stop and think what kind of a mind would call for the killing of a mere child using a completely irrelevant, ill-fitting and utterly out-of-context sacred text to justify the point-blank targeting of a female child who had come to mean so much for so many. Even if one cannot expect moral scrupulousness from the Taliban, this sounds like a masterstroke of grandiose stupidity in terms of political consequences as well as psychological repercussions. It is an absolutely suicidal move on the part of the Taliban, given the fact that the very natural and very expected sympathy for the innocent victim will bring utter condemnation and ruination to their cause. It is only natural that a pretty little girl wanting to educate herself and getting shot in the head by misogynistic terrorists for it will deflect any sympathy there may have been for what the Taliban fight for and will provoke the ire of all feeling hearts.

But perhaps there is method in this madness? For one, the episode came to light right after Imran Khan’s peace march against drone strikes had managed to draw attention to this issue that ails the heart of many Pakistanis, and just when there was talk of creating grounds for an operation in North Waziristan. A news report in ‘The Express Tribune’ on September 17, 2012 entitled ‘North Waziristan Operation to Stay Under Wraps’ quotes a Pakistan government official saying that Pakistani authorities plan to create a ‘necessary environment’ for the Waziristan operation. Moreover, soon after the attack given the overwhelming public sympathy there is conspicuous effort to swing opinion in favour of the necessity to use drones to hit targets in the region and the necessity to begin a military operation in North Waziristan agency. This had been a demand from the White House since some time. I must be allowed to wonder who really is the beneficiary of it all? The pattern I detect is a familiar one. Before the Swat operation some years ago, opinion had been swung in support of it after the screening of a video that showed the Taliban lashing a yelping woman. Months later, a small news strip revealed the video had been a fake one. It did not matter then, for the deftness of the forgery had come in handy to justify the operation and to give an inept regime reasons for self-congratulation over something the Former Dictator had failed to do: rally public opinion before a military move into the restive, bleeding north.

Last month’s joint report by Stanford and NYU on the impact of the drone strikes in Pakistan calls them ‘damaging and counterproductive’ as opposed to the false US narrative of these being ‘surgically precise effective tools’ to hit specified targets with minimal collateral damage. The report documents 2562 to 3325 casualties by drone strikes since 2004, out of which 474-881 are civilians including 176 children. The number of injured is roughly between 1226 to 1362 individuals. The report includes harrowing narratives of survivors and victim communities in a region where the ‘free media’ of the country cannot dare to tread.

I may be dubbed a hopelessly ‘illiberal’ fanatic for linking up the Malala incident to the drones when I say that the sympathy generated for Malala must also be for all victims of terror, drone strikes, sectarian and ethnic killings, indiscriminately. We cannot discriminate between dead bodies just because it may not be ‘politically correct’ to question and condemn the cause of the deaths of some, depending on who the killer is. However, the necessary link between Malala and the drone strikes is best drawn by an anonymous lady holding up a most unforgettable placard that confounds the senses: ‘Drones kill so Malala can live.’ I commend her scathing honesty. Few can put so succinctly the political agenda behind the state-sponsored media campaign for Malala and the vital link that does exist between the two. It is, in fact, quite ordinarily a strategy of psychological warfare to generate favourable opinion and support for a planned military offensive which may otherwise be opposed and questioned on moral grounds. In American military terminology, this vital strategy is called PSYOPS (Psychological Operations). Wikipedia explains:

“Psychological operations are planned operations to convey selected information and indicators to foreign audiences to influence their emotions, motives, objective reasoning, and ultimately the behavior of foreign governments, organizations, groups, and individuals.The purpose of the United States psychological operations (PSYOP) is to induce or reinforce behavior favorable to US objectives. They are an important part of the range of diplomatic, informational, military, and economic activities available to the US. Strategic PSYOPS include informational activities conducted by the US government agencies outside of the military arena.”

So now again I hear talk of military operations with renewed vigour while public outrage is toned down and muted. Hawks who cannot see beyond a military solution to the complex, deep-rooted phenomena on the rampage in the tribal north must be patting themselves on the back for yet another tawdry, meaningless triumph. I shudder to think of the possibilities being contemplated.

And I wonder if this really is all about girls education as it is being made out to be? How effective will this be to further the cause of education for the girlchild in this country? Or will it blow to smithereens more lives, generate more terror wreaking havoc on human lives and keeping little girls away from school? And I think of those other victims it is not good manners to make mention of: those battered anonymous and unsung lives connected to so many other lives; of children whose dreams of brighter futures die away and recede into the falling debris; and of my religion audaciously sinned against and made a malleable ploy to the whims and unholy ambitions of evil self-appointed guardians of it.

But if we wish to reach solutions we must be ready to understand, ask questions and wonder why, really? If it is really an ideology that motivates the Taliban’s diabolical moves, I wonder why the ideology never drove these misogynistic Pashtuns into paroxysms of fury and frenzy when Swat hosted tourists and many young honeymooning couples a decade ago? A friend born and raised in Swat speaks of the cheerful, chivalrous, hospitable people with well-knit and warm community lives. My mother who went to school in Nowshehra and Peshawar reminisces of ruddy chivalrous Pathan youths escorting groups of girls to school and of bright-eyed Pathan girls following their dreams into high school and college, many of whom graduated as professionals. So where exactly has it all turned awry? Ideologies do not take birth instantaneously; but vengeance does.
And, if it really is an ideology that motivates the madness, can the use of wholesale, blind brute-force that does not discriminate, defeat it? The answer is a most basic lesson of history it would serve us well to learn.

And somewhere, this simplistic narrative I must believe, just does not cohere.

The pointer here is that maybe this uncontrollable hydra of insane extremism and terrorism is the work of our own fumbling, bloodsoaked, sinning hands? Maybe it is the inevitable result of the dirty deals we brokered and the unholy alliance we forged in indecent haste and sinister hush? And maybe the monster will not be tamed and cut down to size unless we dare to understand that violence begets violence, and the victim does not forget or forgive; that drones don’t see the faces in the dust nor hear the moans in the darkness, but that the faces are people and lives and stories forever knitted into several other stories with the silken ties of love. And by being complicit in this unholy mission, we make these sad stories ugly, grotesque, haunting, terrifying, vengeful. And our own story of ignominy and annihilation is writ indelibly by the Moving Finger.

Ishq e Rasool – Let’s talk about it

That a thirteen-minute long tawdry inanity from a dubious manic character could trigger off an uproar both from the emotionally and psychologically volatile fundamentalist groups as well as from states and governments is something that needs talking about. Complex social trends are taking over, quite beyond taming- a plethora of forces, factors, ideas and ideologies that collide and crack and clash and rebound.

For one, the disproportionately huge impact of something that deserves no more than a contemptuous side-glance points towards the enormous sway of the mass media in determining what ought to garner attention, how much and for how long. It also raises critical questions about the ‘freedom of expression’ that defines the cyber world- a blind and amoral freedom with no parameters and no ethic, that knows neither good nor evil, truth nor falsehood. Before the communication, revolution becomes a hydra on the loose making fools and gasping helpless spectators of us all, we need to engage in a rethink of the entire concept of freedom and liberty as it relates to expression. Where does one draw the line between free expression and hate speech? And who draws those lines? Do we want to live in a world where everyone has complete and unlimited access to misinformation, disinformation, propaganda, pornography, falsehood, hate and prejudice indiscriminately disseminated all in the name of freedom of expression?

Still more interesting is the predictability of the action-reaction, provocation- backlash sequence that plays itself out every now and then. Whoever posted the filth onto Youtube seems to have done it with calculated deliberation- in his own words, it was a ‘political act’ in order to push the button driving Muslims into a feverish frenzy sending them to a spree of smashing and burning and ripping. It is like a bored passing urchin looking for some fun, who decides to throw a rock at a rival group so that he can stand back to watch the ensuing entertainment for a cheap thrill. A sick-minded desperado throws the bait and it is eagerly picked up by emotionally charged extremists. The theatrical episode gives Islamophobes and extremists from both sides, much to shout out from the rooftops, much to reinforce their simplistic us-and-them narrative of binaries. It is too familiar and too regular a pattern.

And deeply distressing too, one can compare the sudden surge of religious passion over a despicable piece of filth a random maniac posted on Youtube to the lull in the Muslim world, over the state-sponsored carnage in Syria. One can also read into these pathological religious hysterics a tragic disconnect with the spirit and essence of the personage in whose blessed name it is claimed to be.

Umm Jameel bint Harb, the wife of Abu Lahab, made up some verses of poetry to defame the Prophet by changing his name to a word that meant ‘the insulted one’ as opposed to “Muhammad” (i.e. the praised one). This enraged Muslims, especially in the early days of Islam when they were weak. The Prophet (SAW), however, responded thus: “Allah is protecting me from the Quraish’s insults as they are cursing and swearing at “The Insulted One”, whereas I am “Muhammad”, the Praised One! (Sahih Al-Bukhari)

In an Islamic Studies class while explaining Surah Al Kausar I could not help but draw the obvious and vital connection between the ‘Abundance’ (Kausar) granted to Muhammad (SAW) and the contemporary context. Kausar, the Abundance of God’s blessing, of virtue, of God’s Mercy and Love, of felicity, peace, spiritual richness, radiance and beatitude through which any obscenity spewed out by odious villains, matters nothing. Kausar is also interpreted as abundance of following- but a following not as the froth on the beach…

Thauban (R.A) reported that the messenger of Allah said: “It is near that the nations will call one another against you just as the eaters call one another to their dishes.” Somebody asked: “Is this because we will be few in numbers that day?” He said: “Nay, but that day you shall be numerous, but you will be like the foam of the sea, and Allah will take the fear of you away from your enemies and will place weakness into your hearts.” Somebody asked: “What is this weakness?” He said: “The love of the world and the dislike of death.” (Abu Daud)

An important narrative in the Islamic tradition is of the man who refused to make puerile effort to guard and defend the Sacred House in Makkah against an attacking army, realizing the futility of such an attempt, and relying instead, wholly on the help of Allah Himself while displaying great courage and strength of character. Divinely armed hordes of midget birds crushed the army in an awe-inspiring miracle that manifested the Glory of Allah and His transcendence above and beyond human machination. Realizing that the honour of the Prophet of Allah (SAW) does not stand in need of violent protest marches, nor does such expression accentuate his spiritual stature is a fundamental lesson in faith.

In my part of the world the angry mobs in the name of the Prophet (SAW)’s honour betray the spirit of what they seek to defend. It exposes the superficiality of our understanding of the message of Muhammad (SAW). The audacity of the corrupt and inept regime’s decision to celebrate the ‘Youm e Ishq e Rasool’ (Day of the Love of the Prophet SAW) is revolting, and uncontrollable street mobs on the rampage smashing public property make a grotesque mockery of the grandiose motive. Such street sentiment actually expresses the pent up feelings of frustration and grievance, helplessness and anger over drones and poverty and Gitmo and joblessness and the great atrocity of the War on Terror, seeking cathartic relief in burning and boot-kicking effigies of freakish blaspheming idiots which personify the invisible statue of that one hostile monolithic entity called ‘The West.’

I long for a ‘Youm e Ishq e Rasool’ wherein I can relive the message of Muhammad (SAW) in acts of kindness and compassion and spread around me some of the goodness he exuded in abundance. I long for a ‘Youm e Ishq e Rasool’ when I work with greater honesty and integrity, and smile at my colleagues at work more spiritedly than usual, and lend a helping hand more enthusiastically than usual; refuse to throw that plastic wrapper in the street and dispose off the ones I see lying around; send blessings to the Prophet (SAW) and read about the Prophet (SAW) to derive lessons relevant to my personal life and realize my responsibility towards the community I am part of. That would be a ‘Youm e Ishq’ I would love to celebrate. Not one with aggressively externalized displays of religious passion that turn ugly and then dissipate and fade away like froth on the sea, swept away by the incoming tides just as easily as it came.

We have a remarkable capability to transform into celebrities and global figures of great importance petty deranged slime-balls with our mislaid enthusiasm and fervour. Terry Jones and Nakoula Basseley ought not to matter, as they do not.

What matters, uplifts and heartens is that glow on the horizons still young and rosy but promising- of a rising, rejuvenating contemporary Islam personified by a new generation of young Muslims in the West and also emerging in the Muslim world who have risen to the occasion and responded with composure and wisdom, creativity and intelligence. Lesley Hazelton describes these Muslims as ‘writers, filmmakers, political activists, comedians, academics who wear their Muslim and hyphenated Muslim identity with a casual confidence, are activists but not of a defensive nature, armed with wry humour and a sharp sense of irony. They laugh at simplistic slogans like ‘Islam versus the West’ and the infamous ‘Clash of Civilizations’ as they represent the blending of civilizations. These are the polar opposites of Islamist extremism and confound the stereotypes and the more visible they become, the less the smallest and most extreme minority can claim that it represents the whole.’

During a particularly long day at work and longing for a respite, my senior batch of students walked in, telling me they wanted to work on a documentary film on the personality and legacy of the Prophet (SAW). It was heartening, a breath of fresh air to see the enthusiasm, positivity and activism of these young girls. They wanted to record my views on the film by Nakoula. “That doesn’t matter,” I answered. “Like froth on the sea. But this work matters. It is not the froth on the sea, but the glow in the eastern sky. And that is something to talk about.”

Such a little thing

I felt the freshness in the air; of the evening merging slowly into those blessed first moments of the first night of Ramadan. I felt the vigour in my step as I walked out the gate just after the pre-Ramadan study circle in my neighbourhood had finished. We had studied a collection of Hadith on Ramadan_ of the springtime of faith and the ethereal blessedness it comes wrapped up in. And it had touched some deep buried cord somewhere in the recesses of the soul.

I have walked the short distance from the neighbourhood weekly Quran study circle back home many times. Meeting on the way many a sidewalk bystander ogling to pass the hours away. I have met many a prying gaze of a passing vendor, a house guard, an urchin. Outside my weekly ‘haven’, another world awaits. From the surreal to the rudely real, the eyesores of a degenerate society. Sigh!

There he comes, yet another; a street vendor perhaps. I braced up for the unnerving stare, catching in the process, a glimpse of a face_ the kind that expunged the tautness, putting me so strangely at ease.

It struck. Instantly! The white prayer-cap and the beard removed the ‘otherness’. The gaze that lowered itself, the humble step that gave a freer passage, the innocence, nobility written all over was strangely comforting_ unlocking, decoding, and bringing home a message: a beautiful heart. The recognition came in an instant.

It unfurled an identity. I noticed the deep sun-tan with those long days of labour. I noticed the rough white Shalwar Kameez well-worn, having endured many washings, creased up, patched in places. I noticed the loosely hanging empty jute bag slung across the back of his bicycle and the two folded up paper bags of used cement. Clearly, this scrap seller hadn’t made a business today. Yet he persisted as the day receded, still calling out to the many affluent perhaps still dozing away amidst the buzz of the air conditioners behind thick walls and locked doors. ‘Loya raddi waich lau’ (Sell off scrap metal and paper), he called out in the empty, darkening street, perhaps the only listener to his own persistent cry. He pedalled on speedily, not completing his round to the end of the street but turning round half way to make his way back_ perhaps having learnt that there were no listening ears behind the thick walls, no one to hear or make out his locally accented cry; to notice that hole at the border of his Kameez, the empty loose sack or the well-worn, cracked up, mud-stained slipper quickly pedaling on_ perhaps to make it to the masjid in time for Maghreb prayer.

It was in seconds. I felt the connecting, the bonding up. I didn’t think it up but surprised myself by suddenly calling out to him as he rode on past me, ‘Bhai!’ ‘My brother’_ effortlessly, in a spontaneous outpouring came the words. ‘Bhai zara rukna. Aap raddi bechtay hain?’ (Brother, please stop. Do you sell and buy scrap?)
He couldn’t perhaps register it as he cycled on, used to the stony, unrelenting, indifferent silence in affluent localities. For an instant, I thought I had missed, and I felt the heart sink. Till, having rode a few yards ahead, he turned back to look and finally stopped, getting off the bicycle, dusting off his hands and shirt and, still with that ‘Muslim’ gentility and modest gaze that had held me, waited for me to approach. ‘Ji baji.’ (Yes, sister).

The evening cast darker shadows, the first night of Ramadan waited in the wing to gradually suffuse. These sacred moments…

And this muddied scrap seller here with his sunburnt face irradiated, ennobled, beautified by the Sunnah. I saw it all in one radiant flash. ‘Ramadan Mubarak!’ I said. ‘Mere paas yeh Ramadan ka chhota sa tuhfa hai aap ke liye,’ I said (I have a small Ramadan gift here for you), handing out whatever I could rummage through my pockets.
Visibly surprised and at a loss for words, he said, ‘Jazakallah khair baji.’ Silence. And then, gathering himself, he added, ‘Allah aap ko iss ka bohat ajar dei. Aap ko bhi Ramadan Mubarak.’ (May Allah reward you greatly for this. Ramadan Mubarak to you too.) I noticed the flawless, unaccented Urdu and wondered where he had got it from. The labyrinth of destiny, who can make out?

Realizing perhaps the insufficiency, the inadequacy of my gesture, the unspeakability of that strange link, I added, ‘Bhai duaon mein zaroor yaad rakhye ga.’ (Brother, do remember me in your prayers).

As I made my way on, I felt lighter, unburdened, relieved. And I saw his frail figure, the beard, the cap merging into the twilight’s colours, soon a silhouette against the far end of the road.

And I wondered who he was, what was his name, where he lived… regretting not having asked. ‘Bhai’ (brother) I had called him, not feeling the need to call by a name, not feeling the need for statistics to identify. ‘My brother’, striving on life’s rocky road, striving among the pain and toil to keep to the straight and narrow, a lover of my Prophet (SAWW), a slave of my God.

As I sat on the prayer mat on the night of first Ramadan, I thought of the nameless scrap seller who must also be engaged in prayer somewhere. And I knew that the power of prayer, the faith we share creates the sacred link_ undying. I felt the indissoluble, ever-present link of Muslimhood, that thing called ‘love for Allah’s sake.’

‘What a little thing
To remember for years,
To remember with tears!’

A Profane Spirituality

Pakistani private television channels glamorously sport sensational televangelists to satiate the public appetite for spirituality amidst tawdry entertainment galore. The trend rockets in Ramadan when popular media faces don sobriety in cotton shalwar kameezes of subdued hues, skull caps and most alluring beaded scarves and chiffon dupattas. It sells!

This year once again we have on screen with all his guns blazing one of these popular televangelists known for his versatile talents in speaking, singing, making dramatic invocations and tear-stained supplications as well as skills one cannot mention at the family dinner table. The latter came to light in a leaked video that had recorded this ‘aalim’s behind-the-camera antics and escapades. There was great shock and horror at this most dramatic volte face from a simple-minded populace that loves hero-worship. The wiser ones chuckled, saying, ‘I told you so.’ The ‘aalim’ carried on with classic composure, invoking divine retribution for the liars behind the scandal in his usual flowery and flamboyant language. The dexterous televangelist carries on with his repulsively seductive religious rhetoric aimed at the simplistic mass mind-set.

Notwithstanding the public humiliation he underwent and the aggravated sentiment of his massive fan-following (largely female), the aalim stuck to his guns and emerged unscathed. There you have it- the aalim (dis)graces the screen of Pakistan’s most popular private television channel this Ramadan with an unbelievable audacity. In your face. What adds a flabbergasting twist to the tale is the fact that the earlier video had been allegedly publicized on youtube and elsewhere by this very channel which now advertises his program as its Ramadan highlight. The channel also must be credited with putting up this ignoramus of abysmal moral standing and dubious background as an ‘aalim’ before the Pakistani public in the first place. After his metamorphosis into an ‘Aalim Online’ thanks to this channel, the so-called aalim reappeared on a similar evangelical show on another channel having quit his mentors in the previous one. That is when appalling off-camera clips from his programs recorded for the first channel went viral. In a mind-boggling move, the aalim returns to this channel he had quit, reaffirming his loyalties and once again using his odious eloquence to seduce gullible minds.

The entire episode reeks of a most worrying and dangerous trend in Pakistani society. The commercialization of the mass media has taken a heavy toll on our most sacred values, marketing spirituality. Religion too is to be sold, like soap or whitening creams or cheap powder. It is embellished with a deliberate spirituality calculated to keep the viewer glued to the screen, packaged under brand names, presented by alluring faces in lighter shades of lipstick framed by an oceanic-blue-green or pristine white sequined scarf. For a more dramatic touch, the camera captures a little tear droplet streaming down the lightly painted face at the precise time when the camera zooms in. It is a winning advert- sure to guarantee a sizeable viewership of semi-literate housewives from all over the country.

The ethos of Islamic culture is simplicity. Spiritual practice is an intensely private matter, and when it is brazenly flaunted by exhibitionists it loses all sanctity. The individual’s faith is a matter between him and his Creator, and humility is the defining trait of the believer. Religiosity dripping from phony appearances, hairy faces appropriate for the occasion, titles, and headgear exposes the emptiness, superficiality and hypocrisy of the trade. According to a hadith,

‘Allah does not look at your appearances, but He looks into your hearts.’

The Pakistani media has reached the lowest point of depravity with this commercialisation of spirituality. It steers directionless, blinded by the commercialist and competitive imperative, leading a nation wired into the matrix, frozen into a hypnotic trance like sleepwalking starry-eyed zombies.

The artifice, pretentiousness and even shameless hypocrisy of it all is a damning verdict on our collective morality as a society. I fear for the generation that grows up in and is socialized into this morass of values. When the persona of the ‘religious scholar’ is tarnished with debauchery, hypocrisy and showmanship; when spirituality is worn and flaunted for appropriacy according to the occasion; when our most sacred values are presented in such blatantly superficial and distasteful ways, I shudder to think of what we are dwindling into as a society and a nation, what papier mache ‘role models’ and inspiration we are leaving behind for our children.