May Musings - 27

Couple of announcements today folks!

I have these events coming up:

The Last Word - In Conversation at the Roundhouse Theatre - TICKETS HERE

This one is pretty cool… You Must Be Layla book event IN LONDON in collaboration with The Other Box - TICKETS HERE!

I’m also heading to Australia for a week or so in June so stay tuned for those details inshallah

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What’s on my mind today? Well, firstly, I can’t believe it’s May Musings 27. I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep up the habit of writing every day when I started the challange - fairly flippantly - sitting in a cafe in Malaysia. Goes to show that a slow, incremental change that you hold yourself to does make a cumulative difference.

I’m not sure if my writing has gotten any better in this month as I’ve often written squeezed in the moments between five-to and midnight. That being said, I certainly think my fingers are flowing a little easier…It’s also been nice to have a record of my travels and adventures this month.  I’ve got one more trip before the end of Ramadan, inshallah. I really did pick one hell of a month to try write every day!

I’m curious to see if it’s a habit I can maintain. Part of me wants to try continue it for as long as possible, part of me realises it’s probably unsustainable. But then again, some people do continue habits for years at a time - praying, for example, is one such habit. If I reduce the commitment, say to once a week, will that reduce the disciplinary effect? What if I write once a week and focus the energy on developing my newsletter (that I’ve been saying I’ll do for ages?). What if, what if! And that’s not even taking into account that I have to make time for actual paid work that I need to do... haha.

That’s where my head is at, this Tuesday. Where are you? 

May Musings - 23

Hey folks! Happy Friday!

What’s on my mind today? Well, I’m preparing for the How The Light Gets In festival which I’m appearing at on Monday inshallah - will any one you be there? It’s one of my favourite events of the year - Music and Philosophy, I mean c’mon!

Folks, I made it to the fourth line on the posters. I’m pretty much a headliner. SUBHANALLAH!

I’ve also started a super cool gig as a regular contributor on Midori House, one of my absolute favourite current affairs show. I did my first show last night, and I honestly feel like I may have made it (hehe). You can listen to the episode here. We talked Indian elections, EU elections, Japan’s new (or old?) name convention and childhood books…

Click to hear the episode.

I feel very blessed Alhamdulilah to be doing things - speak, broadcast, write - in spaces and with people I’ve deeply admired for years. It’s amazing, but sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in the ‘what’s next’ mode of thinking: planning the next step, focusing on the next challenge, rather than taking stock and sitting in gratitude for where one is now. I’m reminded of the quote: where you are now, is where you once dreamed of being (or something along those lines). Subhanallah, indeed. I remember when I was in third year university, I was invited to be in the audience on Australia’s current affair show, Q&A. A fellow engineering student was giving me advice on how I should act, before I realised he thought I was on the panel. ‘Oh no, I’m not on the panel,’ I told him. ‘Wow, if that ever happened, I will have truly made it.’ Two or so years later, I was invited to be do just that - sit on the panel of the live TV show. It felt like the biggest, scariest, most impressive thing in the whole-wide-world. After a few appearances, that feeling faded… but it’s nice to reflect on how much one has grown, and be grateful for every step along the way, Alhamdulilah.

So, I’d love to hear from you! How do you know when you’ve ‘made it’? What does that look like for you? Have you ‘made it’ and then moved the goal posts? Let me know!

***

PS - I thought this was cool! Muslims to lead Birmingham Pride parade for first time in event’s 22-year history:

Muslims will be launching Birmingham Pride celebrations for the first time in the event’s history as they march alongside prominent gay school teacher Andrew Moffat at the very front of this year’s parade.

While Moffat has been selected to front the Pride parade this weekend, event organisers are adamant he will be flanked by LGBT+ Muslims and their allies as an expression of solidarity following anti-LGBT education protests outside Parkfield Community and Anderton Park primary schools in Birmingham this year.

May Musings - 22

If you haven’t heard of my lovely friend from afar, Thordis Elva, you should. She’s an incredible writer and activist who I met a few years ago at Sydney’s ‘All About Women’ festival, where she was touring with her book, ‘South of Forgiveness’. If you haven’t seen her TED talk, it’s a great place to start. It’s a masterclass in bravery and courage, but also creativity and honesty when it comes to storytelling.

Thordis also has great Instagram game, and I’ve enjoyed following her journey in the years that I’ve known her through the online platform. She is a uniqely wonderful storyteller through that medium, making people from around the world feel like close friends. Part of that magic comes through the way she has brought us into her life: the way she shared her powerful pregnancy experience last year for example, was deeply inspiring, in the truest sense of the word.

Thordis was carrying twins. Her water broke early, and she was then forced into bedrest for weeks. The journey was harrowing, but against all odds the Icelandic powerhouse gave birth to two healthy boys (mashallah), despite doctors telling her that they would almost certainly not survive the early trauma. As she shares pictures and videos of the boys growing up, I feel like a far away God-mother they don’t know they have. The ‘army of light’ she calls us, those around the world who prayed and wished good luck from afar. Every time I think of Acer and Swan (the two boys), I think of the power of motherhood, community, and the possibility of social media for good.

Watching Thordis’s instagram story yesterday, I was greeted with something a little different. Elva is an activist for women’s equality and rights - has always been - and as such had been in vocal opposition to the recent Georgia abortion ban. Seemingly some folks had taken it upon themselves to question her legitimacy in doing so. Thordis responded with a history of her work, the many films, books and policies she created, and presented a CV that very clearly tells a story of a woman dedicated to the cause. ‘You go girl!’ I thought to myself, as I learnt about what this woman - who I knew was powerful but didn’t know the specifics - had achieved over the years. I reached out and shared my admiration, but also my personal struggles with owning my history and narrative. Thordis replied with such wisdom, I thought I must share it with you all today.

She talked about how even though talking about what we’ve done may not always feel comfortable, the reality is that as women (and in my case, especially as Muslim women or women of colour), our histories and legacies are so often forgotten. Not even just forgotten, they’re actively erased, eradicated, pushed out of the record books. It hurts, but we’re surrounded by that truth. Take a walk through any museum, art gallery or history section in the library. Even Muslims, following a religion that was founded on the idea of equal rights for all - have found ways to sideline the stories of women, ignore their perspectives and minimise their contributions. It’s so important, Thordis said to me, that we share and record our own achievements and histories. We must shout them from the rooftops, not just for our own egos, but for those who come after us. So that the work we do is not forgotten, is not scratched out, so that people don’t continue reinventing the equality wheel and imagining noone else has done it before.

It made me reframe two things in my mind: one, the importance of sharing what I have been able to do (with the grace of Allah, of course) so that people know it can be done and it has been done. Secondly, it made me question the number of times I have been considered the ‘first’ to do something - wear a headscarf in a particular school, company, department, the ‘youngest’ to start a youth organisation, the first Muslim to do XYZ… how do we know there haven’t been others? There may well have been, and we’ve just forgotten. It’s a welcome, humbling and urgent thought.

What do you think? How important is it for us as individuals to be involved in maintaining and recording our legacies and histories? What do you think about all of this?

May Musings - 18

On Energy and Vision

I’m always this excited.

Sometimes, one has to make a choice about where they will place their energy. Choosing to ignore the small fights for the bigger win - the illusive deferment of gratification - is ultimately, for the best.

I type this after having spent maybe an hour longer on twitter than I needed to today though, so perhaps I’m taking to myself more than anyone else.

How much energy do you need to spend setting the record straight? When people are implying falsehoods about you, do you challenge every one, or accept that’s just the way the cookie crumbles, and find another way to fight the good fight?

The longer I live (Alhamduliah), the more I think the latter is the wiser strategy. Brute force will not win when you’re out-gunned, out-manned, out-numbered, out-planned. We gotta make an all out stand… Now, I’m no political strategist, but I look forward to seeing what different ideas come out over the next days, months and years as we figure out how to collectively keep pushing for a society that is safe, prosperous and fair for all, inshallah.

***

On a similar(ish) note, today was my first day in Dubai for this Modist press trip I am on, an experience which is *absolute* honour and privilege. I’ve never been on a trip quite like this before, and so I am doing all I can to learn, absorb and hopefully add value. I’m always curious about the ethics of a trip like this - being supported by a brand, but in my case, not to write about it directly, but perhaps to inform my ‘audience’ (I guess that’s you, my lovely reader!) about the brand, and what they’re up to. For what it’s worth - the Modist is worth checking out, as they’re a modest clothing platform founded by the most wonderful woman. Ghizlan Guenez - who is as charming as she is stylish, mashallah - has strong values around modesty as a choice, around breaking stereotypes and around empowering women and girls. I mean, all the things I love. So, Dubai or not, I’ll do what I can to support a woman with that vision.

***

And vision has been on my mind today. We spent some time in a museum, learning about the history of Dubai in a way I’d not really spent time considering before. My father often talked about how the leadership of Dubai was visionary, how Sheikh Mohammed built a global city out of nothing, how we had to learn from his example and his entrepreneurship. I never really paid attention to my dad’s Sheikh Mohammed sermons though, for whatever reason - it wasn’t not-interested, I just didn’t connect the dots. Until today.

Like it or not, Dubai has turned itself into a city that millions of people know about, visit, invest in. It is highly functional, safe, and there is a system that works. You might not agree with the system - and it’s definitely not a democracy - but the lives of citizens are good, Alhamdulilah. This is something that has been achieved over the course of less than a century - a few decades, even - and when you stop to take stock of the change, that’s an impressive and laudable achievement. Yes, it has it’s problems. It is important to note the questionable and unIslamic treatment of overseas workers that built said prosperity. However, I don’t think that negates the overall point re vision. Dubai works - and that’s something you can’t say about many other countries in the region.

Realising this left a bittersweet taste in my mouth. It brought home the depressing impact a lack of visionary leadership can have on a people. Sudan is a wealthy nation: it has oil, minerals, agriculture and at one time in its history, a thriving public service and lively intellectual tradition. I have often blamed all the country’s woes on the post colonial hangover, and yes, that impact cannot be overstated. But does the example of Dubai provide an interesting counterpoint? Perhaps. Yes, their histories are different; Sudan’s population is 60 times the size of Dubai’s, contains a multitude of tribes, and a legacy of both Arab and English rule, yes! I understand all this. But walking around today, a small part of me wonders what Sudan would have been like under a visionary leader who wanted to build a society for the people. Hopefully, maybe, that visionary leader is hanging out in the sit-in today, hatching plans to make an all out stand. Khair, inshallah. One can only hope.

***

Aside from my musings, I have two bit of news to share.

1 - You can now purchase my YA fiction book, You Must Be Layla internationally through my store here on the site! Order, leave your name and I will sign it for you inshallah.

PS If you have already read it or when you read it, if you could leave a review on Goodreads or Amazon that would be so very appreciated, thank you!

2 - I’ve decided to start sending out little email newsletters every now and again! I won’t spam you (or if I do, please let me know that it’s too much) but if you’d like to get updates from the blog, notes on what I’m up to, links I’m reading and the like, sign up below!

May Musings - 16

On growing up, authority and permission.

How I feel about being an adult.

How does one decide what is ‘good’, or right? Are they even the same thing all the time? When we’re kids, often it’s simple: what are parents tell us, what our teachers tell us, what those in positions of authority around us decide. Who is in positions of authority? Often, when we’re young, that’s also simple too: those who are older than us. Ah, for the simplicity of childhood…

I think the moment I realised I was growing up was the moment I realised I may be different to my parents in some ways. Not from a knee-jerk teenage perspective either, but from a ‘I think we have different viewpoints, habits or lifestyle, and I don’t think I’m changing significantly any time soon’. I don’t think I can recall for certain when that moment was, but I remember it being a slight shock. The idea that my life might look different to the life of my parents, and that maybe it was okay for that to happen, felt downright scandalous, and in some ways a betrayal. I’m almost certain that they wouldn’t say it was anything of the sort, but the idea that my life looks very different to that of my folks has sometime felt morally reprehensible, despite it simply being different. Why does it feel so uncomfortable?

I think it all fits into this idea of trying to do what is ‘good’ and ‘right’, and that direction and permission often coming from my folks, and the community they symbolised for me. I’ve been a kid who often tried to do what I was supposed to (and often failed, lol). But striving to be like my parents, and what my parents approved of, felt like the ideal to strive for. It felt almost like a religious obligation! However now, with a life that looks and feels so different to theirs in many ways (where I live, what I eat, the places I go…), who becomes the weathervane? Who is the authority? Who gives permission?

Scary to think it’s perhaps, just me. And of course, my faith, so Allah - and of course, the people who I love and are around me… but ultimately, growing up is about deciding what is right for yourself. And then having the moral conviction to stick by it. That’s a lot of responsibility, if you ask me. Yet, here we are…

How do you feel? Is this something you have found yourself grappling with, or has growing up been all gravy?

May Musings - 15

This blog post is a little late today. A a few minutes ago Firefox decided to have a moment, freeze and quit, erasing an evening-worth of work.

Oh, the irony is Iftar-level delicious as well, given the entire piece was about how Ramadan has been tough so far but had reminded me of the power of discipline and patience. I am feeling neither patient nor disciplined in this moment, just a sense of searing frustration and a pang in my right arm that’s mildly concerning.

Perhaps Allah was protecting me from putting something out in the world I didn’t need to be putting out. Who knows. All I know is that today’s musings are going to be short and sweet, just like my tether in this very moment.

***


I started the day off as a guest on Monocle 24’s morning show, the Globalist, talking about the recent political escalation in Sudan. You can listen in [here].

I was then quite fortunate to join Munroe Bergdorf and a number of other prominent activists for a breakfast and panel for Mental Health Awareness week hosted by iWeigh and the Allbright. We shared our experiences with social media and mental health and stood for a few cheeky photos....

Photo credit - Gerogie Glass - @georgieglass_

It was wonderful to be connected in person with so many folk who I admire from afar, and be reminded of themes to reflect on regarding mental health, but also in terms of how we see ourselves in the world - and who we are centering when we are having those conversations. When we talk about liberation, are we centering others, or those we seek to liberate? What do our conversations say we implicitly value? Who do we deem as authority? Where does the pressure come from? How do we live in alignment with the values we purport to have?

I’m going to leave you with those thought bubbles, as I need to go watch some stand up comedy to let off some steam…


Allah give us all strength to get through this Ramadan. Khair inshallah.

Photo credit - Gerogie Glass - @georgieglass_

Speech: IQ^2 Debate (BBC World)

 

On the 7th of November, I had the honour of debating with the likes of Julian Burnside, Uthman Badar and Thomas Keneally on a pretty interesting topic: whether God and His Prophets should be protected against insult.

I was pretty nervous and excited about the affair, as can be seen in blog posts here prior to the event.

The debated was screened on BBC World to an audience of about 70 million on the last weekend of November, and you can check out the video here.

This is the transcript of the speech...

***

God / The All-Compassionate / The All-Merciful / The Source of Peace / The Creator / The Maker of Order / The Shaper of Beauty The Forgiving / The Knowing of All…

And then we have us.  Flawed, fallible, full of passion and fire, and so very…human.

How can we deign to think that we – the creatures that we are – should protect God from insult?

Good evening ladies and gentlemen

The topic we have before us today is ‘that God and His Prophets should be protected against insult’.

Tom Keneally and I effectively are arguing against this hypothesis.  From a definitional point of view, the topic is understood as follows:

‘God’, in monotheistic religions, is taken to mean ‘the creator and ruler of the universe and source of all moral authority; the supreme being’.

The word is also sometimes used for emphasis to express a particular emotion, such as “God, what happened here?!” although that is not always approved by everybody.

‘Prophet’ is ‘a person regarded as an inspired teacher or proclaimer of the will of God’.

‘Should’ is used to indicate obligation or duty.

‘Protect’ is to keep safe from harm or injury.

‘Insult’, in its noun form, is a disrespectful or scornful remark.

***

There are a couple of interesting questions that this topic raises.

What (or who) deserves our protection, as individuals and as society?  Should we be protected only from things that will harm or things that have the potential to cause harm?

On the other hand when it comes to insult it must be asked: Is freedom, or freedom of speech absolute?  It clearly isn’t, as the existence of laws, rules and regulations mean that there are levels of restrictions on what we can and cannot express.

What is the difference between freedom of speech and expression, and the allowance for insult or incitement of hatred? What is the difference between the two? If freedoms are not actually absolute but do come with restrictions, what limits do we have? Who upholds these limits?  How does freedom fit around the concepts of responsibility and society?

***

Tom and I will be tackling this topic from different perspectives.

I will address three arguments.

Firstly, I will posit that God, as a supreme being, does not require the protection of mere humans to protect Him from any harm or injury.  Where the damage is being inflicted is on the followers, and so protection, if any, is more about the practitioners of the religion.  Furthermore, if God is known to be above insult, then what is the anger really about? It is there something else going on?

Secondly, I will argue that freedom of expression is important to sustain a functioning, thriving, growing society and that said freedom is protected within religions.  This does however, come with important caveats if we are to live in a functioning civilisation.

Thirdly, I will wrap up by addressing violence as a response to insult.  This is unequivocally unacceptable, although perhaps unfortunately, understandable.  I will humbly suggest that the end does not justify the means, and that in any response to insult, the best examples should be followed.

Tom will then continue by talking about how the concepts of blasphemy and sacrilege, and punishments for them, are not viable in a ‘free speech’ society and how mutual respect is the only ultimate guarantee of respect for God and the Prophets.

***

The concept of ‘protection’ brings to mind a dynamic whereby the strong protect the weak and those with power protect the powerless.  Do we honestly think that we can protect God and His Prophets? For the insult to be incitement to hatred and beyond, the recipient would be harmed by it.  God and His Prophets are surely above our mere words…

So what is going on here then, beneath the anger at an insult?

When people stand against insult, mockery and derision of God and His Prophets it is unlikely due to the fact that they think the words will cause harm or injury directly.  It is more likely a reflection of the pain they have felt due to what they love and revere being treated with contempt and ridicule.

Mockery and derision are manifestations of a disrespect and a lack of sensitivity.  God and His Prophets shouldn’t necessarily be ‘protected’ themselves, rather, we should focus as a society on respecting people, as we are the ones who feel the pain and hurt.  If we are to live in a civilised society, a level of respect towards what others deem sacred is critical.

There is also the added factor of where the insult is coming from and its intent.  Reactions in the Muslim community, for example, that may seem disproportionate may be exacerbated by what some regard as worsening attitude towards Muslims by, dare I say it, the West.  That frustration may manifest itself in a grievance towards free speech.

What is it we are trying to achieve? If it is a civilised society where we all respect one another’s sacred beliefs, is the any protection truly going to be the key or will it be a band aid forcing attitudes underground?

***

My second point touches on the universal concept of freedoms, and more specifically, freedom of speech and expression.

It’s a freedom that cannot be understated, and it is enshrined in the Universal declaration of Human rights, in article 19.  It is why we are able to be here and I am able to have this debate.

There is danger is presenting religion and free speech as mutually exclusive, as incompatible.  Without freedom of expression, which is a bedrock of democracy, open discussion of ideas becomes difficult.

However, if an insult comes with an intent to incite hatred then it moves out of the realm of simple freedom of speech.   I would argue that incitement to hatred is a different beast altogether.  That’s not an insult, it is a vindictive act driven by altogether sinister motivations.

Freedom of expression comes with a level of personal responsibility.  We are all individually responsible for our intentions, choices, sayings and actions in the community that we live in.

There shouldn’t be a need for protection because individuals who practice free speech should bear the responsibilities of their expression.

***

With that, I come to my third point.

I believe we should follow the examples of those who lived their lives with virtue.  It may not be surprising to find that such figures, such as the Prophet Mohammed, did not demand protection from insult.

On the contrary, he was insulted and abused often in his life.

He never responded to these events with violence.  In fact, he often did the opposite.

There is one particular example that I enjoy.

God sent the Angel Gabriel to the Prophet after what we shall call a particularly bad day.

'Muhammad! Allah (The Glorified and the Exalted) has heard what your people have said to you. I am the Angel of the Mountains and my Lord has sent me to you to carry out your orders. What do you want now to be done? If you like I may crush them between the two mountains encircling the city of Makka.

The Prophet (may Allah's blessings and peace be upon him) replied with this:

(I do not want their destruction) I am still hopeful …

So those who have used violence in order to ‘protect’ the Prophet cannot say they were following the example of the very man they model their life on.

***

Ultimately, ladies and gentlemen, God and the Prophets are surely above our insults.  They, if you will, transcend the limitations of humanity and the mere concept of us being able to protect them is irrational.

Furthermore, the concepts of free speech and freedom of expression are extremely important to a functioning democracy, so that ideas can be exchanged and built upon. It should always be remembered though that with the right to freedoms does come some level of personal responsibility.

Moreover, violence is an unacceptable form of protection in any situation, particularly when it comes to religion and spirituality. So even in the face of insult, which may be hurtful and derogatory, we would do well to respond in the best way possible, not only in the interests of civilisation but in the interests of showing the best sides of what faith can provide.

***

16:125 Invite (all) to the Way of thy Lord with wisdom; and argue with them in ways that are best and most gracious: for thy Lord knoweth best…

Reflection

Check out my reflections on the event here!

What are your thoughts?

Cheers,

Yassmin Abdel-Magied