Why does it matter?

It has been two months since the Paris attacks and yet I feel the need to publish this post. I spent weeks after the attack taking in all the news I could, weighing in all the responses I could, and trying to form my own view of it. Why does it matter so much to me?

The first, very simple reason is that the religion we speak of runs in my blood. Well, it runs in my family. Oh, fine, my larger, nationwide family, if you must insist. Anybody who has grown up in India listening to our music, reading our literature, looking at our poetry, architecture and paintings will understand me when I say that Islam is a part of us, and it certainly is a part of me; my mind and soul. Urdu remains the most romantic tongue to my ear and quotes from Akbar Birbal stories (known to me only in my own Marathi mother tongue) appear promptly in my mind to illustrate some random point in everyday conversation. Do not even get me started on classical music or painting or films! Some of our best, most loved, artistes belong to said faith. I defy anybody who tries to convince me that Islam is separate from me. And it is heartbreaking to know how many would immediately attempt to do exactly that.

Secondly, I have fallen hopelessly in love with Britain (and the larger idea of European unity). Having studied there and tasted true freedom there; having seen in practice, theories and projects I had only read or thought about, from experiments in environment to inclusive culture and arts, enhanced communication and liberties, this set of countries, especially Britain, has made an impression on me. It was there that I met some of the most, courteous, humble, passionate and kind human beings I’ve known. The personality, the core character of the country seemed to fit me like nothing else had ever done. And I am filled with apprehension and sadness at the thought that people espousing these ideals might be under threat.

I have often dreamt of our own neighbouring countries (including the separated sibling Pakistan) having relations akin to the European union; of being able to travel to and from these countries freely and learning about them and sharing their culture. I admit I am too utopian for my own good. We have a very long way to go, but it is such a pity that those who have made great progress in neighbourhood ties are themselves being pulled back in time.

And then thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, there’s that innate part of being an artist. Of having a view and expressing it. In a way and form that I hone and nurture and perfect. That I work on, and think about, and relook at. None of that is by any means trivial, and I pity those the most who have not learned how to appreciate (and that includes to critique) a piece of artistic expression.

So it is really no surprise that the incident is a direct assault on much that I hold dear, a lot of which constitutes my identity. One may even credibly say that I have been very, very, deeply offended.

But as a mature adult, I must make my peace with it and allow my mind to proceed to the understanding of the problem. And in parting, I have to say in the loudest voice I have, that I stand in solidarity with Europe, and hope that nothing (including themselves) destroys their inclusive culture of tolerance and unity.

Recruiting the liberals - part one

Over two months ago, a few gunmen, invoking the religion Islam, killed cartoonists over a drawing. While violence of any kind always upsets me very much, the nature of the Paris attacks struck a particularly painful note, making me wonder why it mattered so much more to me. It triggered a personal study, and in the light of these findings I feel responsible to respond. 

Stories within Islam:

The first myth to debunk is that there is one Islam. 

Of course there are many voices in Islam. A religion is what its people make it. Throughout history, people of different faiths have found ways to practice what they felt was the path to god. Some were pathbreaking, and others ordinary, some rebelled and created alternatives and some obediently ploughed on the beaten track. And strangely, the rebels and original thinkers are the ones we celebrate and remember. Even today, many Muslims hold very strong, tolerant and liberal views.

A current, European example is the very same French Muslim policeman, Ahmed Merabet, who died doing his duty to protect the Charlie Hebdo office from the terrorists. While he lay injured, the gunmen stopped to shoot him. Of Algerian origin, he identified strongly with French secular principles of liberty, equality and fraternity and died defending his fellow countrymen’s freedom of expression - a truer Muslim to me than any violent one. Please listen to his brother’s moving speech here.

We have known Rumi, Akbar, Ghalib, and other brilliant Muslims who were ahead of their time (and often criticised by the orthodoxy). The Indian subcontinent especially has a tremendously rich and liberal heritage. Where then, have the liberal Islamic traditions disappeared? Unfortunately, this twelve century old heritage has now been denied by a mere six decade old intolerant, orthodox 'Islamist' ideology. 

Changing traditions and the rise of 'Islamism':  

To understand how a rich, twelve century old Islamic tradition has turned overwhelmingly gruesome and extreme today, one must look at the political scene in recent times. This has mainly been the 'political' spread of Wahhabism or Salafi Islam. 

The short explanation is here, though I recommend a longer one here (minus the lean towards conspiracy theory) and ask the reader to embark upon a personal study to understand the subtleties. 

Much more engaging is the reading of “The Sheepification of Bakistan” in which Mina Malik-Hussain (a feminist Muslim from Lahore) describes how ‘insiduously, The Arabs crept up on us’, how ‘Ramzan became Ramadan’, and how “Now it was cool to sound Arab, and soon enough it began to be increasingly desirable to look it.” It is a must read, very endearing!

I could hug the writer when her impassioned words ring out “…really enough is enough. This is Pakistan, formerly of the Indian Subcontinent. This is still the place where people knew Farsi and had read the Baburnama in the original. This the land of kings and warriors, a civilization as old as the Indus. Where does Saudi Arabia, that land of the crazed Bedouins so uncivilized and jangli that they needed the best of our Prophets to come save them, get off on telling us how to be Muslims?” 
That, right there, is my Pakistani sister reclaiming our shared roots (I can't explain why, but at those words, my soul feels the joy of discovering a long lost companion)!

Following this beautiful article is another one by Shireen Azam describing how, within the Indian scene, “Khuda-Hafizbecame Allah-Hafiz”

A political explanation is here in this little clip (the crux is between minutes 2:50 to 3:45)

It is certainly the political scene that inspired this change, and with it came a dangerous consequence. Religion was brought slowly and inconspicuously, from the personal space to the political space. And to describe this new political ideology, we use the word “Islamism”.

(Part two will be posted shortly)