Past Blog Posts
- October 03, 2006
Ramadan Is Everything I Ever Had
by Rachida Mohammedi
Ramadan is our literature: words received from AllahRamadan is our sociology: we pickup the phone to call "come to ifthar with us".Ramadan is our psychology: each wants to prove to himself how patient he is, he doesn't eat or make love the whole daytime.Ramadan is therapy: our yearning stomach can still enjoy the quiet of its emptiness.Ramadan is art: all around, nasheed sinks into our souls, singing tunes of Allah.Ramadan is catering: a space to offer creative flavors from across our world.Ramadan is meditation: on dawn at al-Fadjr, on setting sun at Al-Maghreb.Ramadan is childhood memories: togetherness and sharing favorite delights.Ramadan is a full basket: spiritual and physical fruits together in a heap.Ramadan is a book to read, a mouth to feed, a soul to welcome faith's seed.Ramadan arrives.Marhaba Ramadan! 24/09/2006
"Ramadan is here"
The city sounds, pipes twang, motors roar by, clock ticks,sick baby's cry. Many layeredsymphony orchestratedelsewhere, played outhere. But in the
irony of opposites, elsewhere is here, it is
here that is elsewhere. So it is by the tight scrutiny of the indefinable Wayhere that it is orchestrated. There where it isplayed out, and it is even bothorchestrated and played out here as well.All far dimensions fit into onepassing sphere.Here.
"Apprehension", Abdal Hayy Moore, from Ramadan Sonnets 1996, listen on RadioTahrir.org/poems www.danielmoorepoetry.com
Here, where every Muslim reads Qur'an.Ramadan is not a Middle Eastern holiday. It is everywhere today--a month of reflection, readings, and community prayers for all Muslims. In Connecticut and Qatar, in Algiers and Jakarta and Hyderabad, it brings familiarity, anticipation and relief. Ramadan is here. We have a new meaning to our day; we try to mentally prepare ourselves and the children, we welcome the liberation from routine; we strengthen our family bonds. The month brings high prices in the market and nervousness on the roads as we rush home before sunset. Fasting raises tension; it is proved. In Amman, it's more than in Cairo, they say. In Saudi Arabia, I hear, no one is nervous. Not because of piety, but because they simply reverse the routine, sleeping through daylight to rise and pray and work after ifthar, all night. We go to school all month, and offices and businesses open, but only until 2 pm. That's it for the day. So if you need to read books, buy and sell, travel, and make decisions, do it before noon.
The month before, families celebrated triple the normal number of weddings. Every night, not simply weekends, crowds gathered to dance and sing for the married couple. Train schedules change; so do television programs. These last years, Ramadan brings us evening TV specials by satellite--comedies and dramas, singers, players, and poets. Egyptian channels vie with Syrian for the most compelling production of the year. Ramadan TV series are 30 days long, from the first to the end of the Holy Month. We remember stories years after that best Ramadan film. Radio producers scour the country for sweet nasheed, and find the art of celebration of Holy Hadith and life of Prophet Mohammed. Nasheed vie with robust songs from our favorite vocalists all day on radio and television. Presidents and kings sit with their people reciting Quran. Small children endeavor to fast for a day, or two, maybe a whole week. Above all, we remember our holy book, recall our favorite sura, speak it and hear it explained, ponder it, and savor its words. B. Nimri Aziz, Ramadan, Algiers[ Ramadan is here ]
- August 02, 2006
Sixteen years ago today, Iraqi troops marched into Kuwait. Just four days later, August 6, 1990, U.N. Security Council Resolution 687 was passed. It held far reaching implications and must have been designed months or years before. The U.N. plan doomed the Arab aggressor who had been armed to fight the American enemy, Iran, for eight years. Resolution 687 set in motion the notorious blockade of Iraq and the 1991 Gulf War, allowed Israel's disregard for the Oslo Accord and other treaties that might lead to Palestinian statehood, and prepared the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq.
Is Israel's American-backed destruction by of Lebanon supposed to ease my worries about Iraq and to forget Palestine's sovereign rights? I read that fifty Arab souls were blown to bits in Baghdad. But today the toll in Lebanon is 57. One attack was carried out by my people in internecine war--Arabs killing Arabs. Distasteful. The other was by my enemy.
I mustn't mention that this same enemy was deeply involved at every stage in Iraq's demise; this same enemy gleefully supported the 2003 Iraq invasion; the same enemy entered Iraq behind U.S. troops, or perhaps at their side; this same enemy planned bombings in Iraq that helped fuel inter-religious attacks and inflame sectarian animosities. I must not remember that this same enemy supported the rise of Hamas in the 1980s as a counter to the PLO and Fatah's opposition to occupation. I mustn't let any feelings of pride in the Hizbullah's actions in the past and today, show.
I must only mourn for my dead brothers and sisters. Better still if I shout against our Arab leaders for their cowardice and their complicity with the United States. So Kuwaiti women have been given the right to vote, thanks to the lobbying of our American feminist and human rights advocates. There has been some progress; Arab people are catching up.
Numbers published about the attacks on Lebanon that most alarm me are not of deaths--I know how efficient a killing machine Israel is.
What I note is the list of Lebanon's American and European residents: 40,000 Canadians, 25,000 Americans; 20,000 British. More than 100,000 foreigners had homes and were raising their families in the country. Each must have invested over $75,000. to do this. Some surely helped rebuild the great, little nation, hiring teachers, patronizing local businesses, buying books and cars and ice-cream. Hardly 100 miles from Beirut, following the Oslo Peace deal in 1993, expatriate Palestinians, even those who did not wholly approve of the peace treaty details, said 'never mind, let's start to rebuild'. Within a few years, many thousands of families had resettled in the West Bank and Gaza; they opened shops and schools, clinics and construction companies. Early investors made a good return in businesses serving new middle class consumers; more profits were realized through land sales… for a while. Most benefit however went to Israeli suppliers since Palestinian communities were landlocked, local industry was thwarted, forcing Arabs to obtain their construction materials and almost all food through Israeli suppliers.
Lebanon is not the same as Palestine. After the end of its civil war in 1990--alas, another sectarian war--reconstruction began and proceeded smoothly and rapidly. Eventually major financiers, many of them Arab investors, joined the economic boom and expansion continued. Lebanon once again offered Arabs more liberties, greater cultural diversity, superior food, seminars, books, a first class Arabic education, entertainment and a rich cosmopolitan life that is quintessentially Arab. Rural life has always been integrated into Lebanese society. Many are amazed how Lebanon's much admired qualities were rejuvenated, even though economic disparities that were behind the civil war had not been addressed.
Iraqi refugees have moved to Lebanon and added to its flavor and energy; Kuwaitis and Canadians, and Argentineans and Brazilians built summer homes there. The export industry flourished. Arabs from around the world go to Lebanon to publish their books, study theater, meet grandmothers, and have cosmetic surgery.
Cosmopolitanism is as dear to Lebanon as the Hizbullah party is. After driving the Israeli occupiers out of the south in 2000, the Hizbullah movement remained at work; as a legitimate party it widened its in social, political and economic programs. After the Syrians were threatened by the Americans and left Lebanon, Hizbullah remained true to its agenda. It had always been genuinely Lebanese. Now it is truly Arab.[ Time Out for Lebanon ]
- July 11, 2006
Is it possible? Has the western media really begun to listen to Muslim women? A series of recent articles under the banner ‘Half The World’ in the Guardian (UK) features stories about Muslim women and interviews, including one with Noble laureate Shirin Ebadi, with people from Afghanistan to Somalia.
From these reports, we hear about the high percentage of Saudi women engaged in business, of women taking the leadership in Somalia’s call for peace. (In 1988, on my first visit to Kuwait, I myself learned how active Kuwait women were in the nation’s commerce, with many top Kuwait companies run by women. But publication of my report, and doubtless others like it, was sidelined by the 1990 war and the focus of Kuwaiti women’s right to vote.) The Nation magazine is now featuring reviews of books by mainly Muslim women and the reviewer is the insightful Moroccan (American Muslim) writer, Lalia Lalami (morrishgirl.com).
Writings by Muslim women about our achievements escaped western feminists and scholars for many years. The number of Muslim women heads of state also escaped notice. Women singled out in the past were the complainers, the victims who appealed for assistance in fighting injustices in their society. And of course, there was the veil, burqua, and chador to claw at. For so long, and it probably hasn’t ended, what examples western writers highlighted showed abuse and inequality rather than the pride, achievement and intelligence. That abuse, as presented through western writers, must stem from Islam. Our women became a powerful stick with which to attack Islam, reaching its apex with horrifying accounts of the treatment of Afghan women at the hands of the Taliban. Never mind their suffering during the wars leading up to the Taliban’s ascendancy. No cries rose on behalf of Muslim women in the horrifying years of Russian occupation.Shirin Ebadi’s is receiving more attention today with the publication of her new book, Iran Awakening. There, she reiterates what the Egyptian activist, Nawal el-Saadawi has been arguing for many years, namely that women’s adversary is patriarchy, not Islamic teachings and values. And that is a universal opponent. Will the message finally get through?
For many years, Muslims could not write positively of their lives and cultures without becoming defensive of Islam. Our work went unpublished, or it was marginalized. Non-Muslims, especially feminists and anti-Arab advocates could get advance further by rushing to the defense of abused Muslim sisters. That would keep them in the leadership of the worldwide struggle for equality. Meanwhile anti-Arab advocates could add Islam to the reasons for their difficulties with Arabs and accept repeated Middle East political crises as acceptable.
For decades, Muslim lawyers and writers have been working hard to challenge patriarchal interpretations of Islam and the Hadiths, accounts of the life of the Prophet Mohammed from which many Muslim values derive.
Their scholarship was unmatched even though it did not reach into the lectures of Friday prayers across the world. The excellent work of sociologist Fatima Mernissi is followed by that of many other scholars, Asma Afsaruddin, Amina Wudud, Azizah Al-Hibri, Rafia Hassan. All are working in the USA. And the list is growing.
Scholarship by and about Muslim women is augmented and complemented with collections of creative and critical work. Shattering Stereotypes edited by Fawzia Afzal Khan is a fine collection; another is Islam Out Loud, edited by Abdul Ghafur. Azizah, a magazine for “contemporary Muslim women,” edited by Tayyibah Taylor is another example of a lively forum, run by Muslim woman, where one can read critical and reflective essays about everything that concerns them from gay relationships to where women pray in the mosque.
It doesn’t matter that these books are not best sellers listed by a major newspaper. They represent an enormous body of thinking, and the thoughts of millions of women, Muslim women. It is long past time for us to tell our own worlds.
Am I giving the western press undue praise for a few recent features by our members? Yes, I think we need years to see if any really change is underway. Meanwhile take note of our women who are writing. Support them. Write any parallel experience you have. Show yourselves.[ At last: Muslim women having our say. ]
- May 24, 2006
So the United Nations has somehow found the spine to censure the USA on its treatment of foreign prisoners. Yet, we note that the UN report (Monday,May 22) refers only to Guantanamo Bay captives and the practice of transferring detainees for punishment outside US territory. Should we be pleased by the UN statement?
Should the captives themselves be hopeful? And if the US government is culpable, what can an American say to the men and women who, for more than 4 years, have being subjected to things we really cannot imagine, even with the photos?
I doubt that the tortures we saw practiced in Afghanistan and Iraq were invented for Muslims and Arabs.
African Americans say that Abu Ghraib exercises are neither new, nor unique to Iraq; American Black men are subject to similar humiliations and torture in US prisons. Remember how police treated the MoveOn prisoners in 1980 in Philadelphia when Black men were striped and marched naked in the streets?
Did you not see photos of naked Iraqi young men, captured and striped by US soldiers, immediately following the arrival of foreign troops in Baghdad? The youths had been forced to walk uncovered through the streets. Somehow, no journalist or human rights officers noted the racial underpinnings of that action.
We heard about how Jews were forced to desecrate their holy book during their persecution in Europe. We have photos of massacred Japanese and Vietnamese men and women, many of them mutilated and exposed. (It seems we maintain a taboo on photos of mutilated Whites —western men and women--except to demonstrate the savagery of enemies.)
On the www.afterdowningstreet.org site one can scroll through a collection of ‘disturbing’ pictures. It seems the bodies and body-parts posted there belong to Iraqi women and men...and children. In some pictures of the Arab ‘victim’ we see groups of American servicemen standing casually beside the dead.
Analysts point out that today’s high-tech, compact cameras and internet make it possible for these pictures of death, abuse, torture and gross immoral acts to reach the masses. As a result (we maintain), we now learn the truth. These awful facts can no longer be hidden from the public, we argue. We demand investigations ; we will make our government accountable, we say.
Our righteous, angry, progressive movement with hundreds of hard-working investigative journalists, prides itself on the discovery of US crimes against humanity. No matter that it takes years to uncover. The revelations seem to cleanse our culture and conscience. American is not so bad, after all-- because we expose the truth.
Hearing the UN’s call for the closure of Guantanamo prison, I and my families doubt if justice will be restored.
Long, long before the release of those shocking photos, most ordinary Iraqis and Afghans knew that terrible things were being done in the prisons. Even after the Abu Ghraib scandal broke across the world, mistreatment did not stop in the dozens of US prisons and other dungeons across Iraq.
Whatever journalistic essays reveal and the United Nations censures, the American vase of democracy seems broken. Perhaps the damage is irreparable. Too much humiliation has been heaped on hundreds of thousands in Iraq, Palestine and Afghanistan. Its affect is cumulative, and unstoppable.
As we observe, resistance to US power and arrogance is accelerating globally. And across the world, Iraq’s insurgency might seem like a reasonable response—a justification not only for prison abuses but for the daily invasion of thousands of homes, farms, schools and streets, and for 12 years of a merciless and unprecedented UN-overseen blockade.[ Watching Torture--and the UN Report ]
- April 11, 2006
By Rachida Mohammedi
A child of the Sahara, an Arab woman, a poet, educated in an Islamic atmosphere, my values are carried to me in simple songs.
Among the most cherished of these is “Kul lil maleeha-ti fi al-khimari al-aswadi: Tell my charming lover--she with the black scarf…”
Through our folklore, anywhere across the wide Arab World, no one can deny how much we enjoy Arab popular songs and poems without a thought about which country these words came from. For us, the song and the poem are beyond any nation.
Kul lil maleeha-ti fi al-khimari al-aswadi, wherever it originated, reminds me that throughout our Arab culture, Black, when it covers the head and shoulders or filigrees our hands, is reserved for the idea of glamour.
Think about henna, that earthy dark paste we use to decorate our palms. Arabs are unable to speak about beauty and adoration, to recount love stories, or to recite a fervent poem without imagining henna on our lover’s hands and feet, without invoking the image of dark henna. Henna, that green plant whose Black essence gives Arab romance its inimitability and value. The darker the henna on the palms of one’s beloved, the more beautiful she is! This is in the realm of aesthetics and love.
What about Blackness in Arab public life? From the 6th to the 14th centuries, during the height of the Abbasid Empire, from Istanbul in Turkey to Lisbon in Portugal, when the world was speaking Arabic, the Abbasids ascribed Blackness to the legal system—the most advanced system of justice the world had known. The Abbasids, the civilization embodying the height of knowledge, innovation and aestheticism across the world, chose Black as the official color of their courts. Yes, the Black cloak worn by its judges, a symbol of the dignity and pride of the Abbasid justice system, is the precursor of the same Black garment (abayah) proudly shouldered by judges and lawyers up to today.
Does the world notice that the Arab woman and man’s common Black abayah is the origin of today’s legal robe? It is also the robe recognized as the symbol of justice worldwide. It is the same robe proudly worn by graduating students. Is there anyone who doesn’t dream of donning this gown when she or he receives their university degree? In our Abbasid culture, more than a thousand years ago, the aalam, scholar, was awarded this Black abayah as a signed of their academic achievement.
From the court of justice to the halls of the academy to the heart of Islam, Black symbolizes esteem. Consider how our holy Kabbah in Mecca is adorned solely in Black cloth. This color that enshrines the holiest site of Islam, expresses the sublime meaning of our Kabbah. This in turn expresses the high regard in which Black is held by Islam.
From these historical facts to lines uttered by our poets, Black is beautiful. From Arab poetry, rich in the metaphor of Blackness, in its sweet treatment of beauty, to justice across the empire, Black has always been a symbol of pride, beauty, love and the sublime. Who else but we give Black such profound meanings? Compare these facts to others’ claims that everything white is perfect and right.[ The Charm of Blackness ]
Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, the only fact we have. It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death–ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life. One is responsible for life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return.
- a poem.. a song..
- poem "Mish Kalem"
Poet Rania Khalil reads "Mish Kalem" Flash
- Qur'an Surat Al-Qadr
from 'Approaching The Qur'an' CD, male reciter
- Book review
- G Willow Wilson's
The Butterfly Mosque
reviewed by BN Aziz.
- Tahrir Team
- Read about Jad Abumrad in the team page.