What is a hero? In our violence-ready culture, a hero can mean many things. Fire fighters, soldiers, teachers, even volunteers – all have been called heroes many a time, and with full confidence. Wherever there’s tragedy, there are always heroes. We applaud them, pray for them, give them the best of wishes and accolades. When a hero loses his or her life saving someone, we feel their family’s pain, shed tears for them, wish there had been another way. But last week in Pakistan, a young hero – a child himself – gave up his life in a manner that made his family and his nation proud.
This year will be the first time my family officially participates in the tradition of Thanksgiving, despite having lived in the United States for the last 15 years. That’s not to say I’m against American holidays, but being an American Muslim often implies conflict in terms of national and international observances. So while other immigrants are quick to participate in the celebrations of their adopted countries, American Muslims like me, who identify strongly with their religion, find it difficult to tread this path lightly. Here’s why.
Amidst news of violence, kidnappings, imprisonments and much more, the world quietly celebrated International Religious Freedom Day on October 27. U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry released a statement to mark this important ideal of the American consciousness with words that sounded well-intentioned and carefully thought out. He mentioned the experiences of the first pilgrims who established colonies in what was later to become the United States of America due to a desire for religious liberty and discussed the role this nation has played up till today in offering a refuge to all peoples facing persecution for their faith.
Danish philosopher and theologian Søren Kierkegaard famously said, “Once you label me you negate me.” But despite this, it seems that as human beings, we love labels. We spend much of our lives labeling not just others but ourselves as well. Skin color, race, education level, professional qualifications… you name it, we’ve got it and using it with gusto. Some labels – like doctor, author, white person – we apply on ourselves with pride, while others – black, dropout, druggie – are pasted on our psyches by others without our consent. It’s also an undeniable fact that labels, positive and negative, lead to stereotypes more frequently than they lead to motivation or greater self-esteem. Yet we continue to label ourselves and others without regard for consequences. A particularly dangerous label in the current national political and cultural situation is religion. As a culture we have started looking at people through “God glasses” – asking people what they believe in, assuming their religious preference based on their accent, color and most importantly their dress. It’s no longer a private matter, and it almost always results in discrimination.
Religious accommodation in the workplace seems to be gaining strength in recent times. Last month, corporate America received a huge setback as retail giant Abercrombie and Fitch was found by a federal judge to have discriminated against a Muslim clerk who wore a hijab to work and was subsequently fired. While that story took the nation, especially American Muslim circles by storm, I refrained from writing about it for the simple reason that there didn’t seem much else to say. A court of law of the United States had already given a powerful message that American Muslims, with our infinite rituals and practices, were part of the fabric of American life and deserved equal treatment under the law. What more could anyone add? Yet here I am less than a month later, writing about this landmark case, not to state the obvious but because it seems that this case may have set some sort of precedent for religious accommodation.
Actions speak louder than words. It’s a litany spoken by teachers to students, parents to children, wives to husbands (and sometimes vice versa) thousands of times around the world each day in tens of different languages. It echoes in my mind from my own childhood, and although it irritated me beyond belief as a child, I have often found myself repeating the very thing to my own little ones. “Saying sorry after hitting your sister is all very good, but actions speak louder than words” or “You may say you love your mom, but when’s the last time you helped me out around the house?” Sound familiar? Because despite the fact that this little sentence is so clichéd it ought to be outlawed, it also happens to be the essence of human nature.
In a world reverberating with a cacophony of statements, actions reflect our state of mind more than anything that comes out of our mouths. Whatever we believe, whatever we want outsiders to believe about our group, is completely dependent on how we behave. Unfortunately these five little words that are so easily understood by the youngest of minds are often the most misapplied and ignored by adults. And it is these very words that have been playing over and over in my mind today, the twelfth anniversary of 9/11, when monsters pretending to be my brothers in faith declared a holy war against my home and killed almost 3,000 innocent of my fellow countrymen and women in one terrifying swoop. Certainly their actions were taken by the entire country as a sign that Islam is a violent, bloodthirsty religion, wanting nothing more than to force the West to its knees through murder and mayhem. Ordinary Muslims such as I were aghast that such terrible actions could hold more weight than the statements of millions of Muslims in the United States and abroad who vehemently denounced them individually and collectively. But that’s human nature, isn’t it, that actions speak more clearly and resound louder than mere words do?
The Islamic month of Ramadan is at an end, and right about now many Muslims across the world are celebrating Eid-ul-Fitr – the biggest celebration of the year – as well as expressing sadness at having bid adieu to a time full of blessings. The repetition of fasting and praying is such in this month that many events blend into each other, seemingly endlessly and with the danger of being forgotten. Here then, is a roundup of what occurred in the United States in the month of Ramadan and how it affected the millions of Muslims in this country.
If you live under a rock, maybe you missed the Zimmerman verdict: absolution from even a manslaughter charge for killing Trayvon Martin. With this case, Zimmerman has joined the club of many publicly condemned individuals that juries have held innocent. President Obama stated after the verdict: “We are a nation of laws and a jury has spoken.” Words such as these make the average American feel proud to be living in a great country where democracy and the justice system is entrenched in our values. Don’t they?
Credit: Ahmadiyya Times.
Human beings are resilient, there’s no doubt about it. Since the dawn of time, we have stood up together to fight injustice, intolerance, hatred, and bias in ways that make us more united. In this great nation of ours, while Muslims have been discriminated against by some, they have been assisted by many. While some have vilified them, many more have praised them. And when a few have attempted to demonize an entire religious group, countless others have stood by their Muslim brothers and sisters. Because that’s what Americans do. For this reason, I was excited to read an article in the LA Times this week about the recent growth of mosques in this country. Despite efforts to intimidate mosque goers through surveillance and harassment, it seems that Muslims remain optimistic about their public life.
The term blasphemy law is an immediate turn-off for most people, implying intolerance for freedom of speech and religion, mostly in an Islamic context. Not surprisingly, in recent times, Muslim countries have become notorious for their blasphemy laws, punishing everyone who has a different view of religion than their own. We hear almost on a daily basis of Christians and other minority groups within Muslims being punished under blasphemy laws in Saudi Arabia, Iran, Egypt and even moderate Indonesia for the slightest of assumed offences.