Monday, March 26, 2012

Stretching Qur'an and Ḥadīth too far? Explore other avenues instead!

Before I say what I have to say, I would like readers to watch this short video clip:


The speaker must be known to many of you, but that is irrelevant, for he is not the only who does what I am about to point out.

And I am not going to talk about whether marches and protests are put together by godless socialists (as he calls them) or not. Nor am I going to talk about the cameras of secret services that, according to him, take shots of protesters' faces, even of the iris inside their eyes, and record patterns of their voices.

I am concerned with the things he says in the name of religion. I am concerned with his unequivocal "No" that he attributes to Islam in response to a question concerning the permissibility of protests. I am concerned that he says protests and marching through the streets is for people who are weak in their faith, and then makes a fallacious reference to a ḥadīth to buttress his claim. I am concerned how he says protesting is the way of kuffār, because that is essentially a religious claim.

Does the piece of Islamic evidence (i.e. the ḥadīth) he has cited really support his claims? Let's see!

Muslim has recorded the report of Abū Sa‘īd al-Khudrī that Muhammad (may peace and God's blessings be upon him) said,

من رأى منكم منكرا فليغيره بيده فإن لم يستطع فبلسانه فإن لم يستطع فبقلبه وذلك أضعف الإيمان.

"Whoever among you witnesses an evil state, he should [seek to] change it by his hand; if he cannot do so, then by his tongue; if he cannot do that either, then in his heart, and that is the weakest of īmān."

The speaker cites this ḥadīth right after saying that protesting is for those who are weak in their faith, which implies that protesting is equivalent to merely condemning an evil in one's heart. Really? Is protesting merely condemning an evil in one's heart? I am afraid, it is not. It takes a person a lot of courage to participate in a protest and march through the streets, especially if it is in one of those countries where voices of dissent are brutally gagged. It means one is willing to take the risk of being recorded by the cameras of powerful secret services – a risk that the respected speaker thinks is not worth taking. That is clearly more than condemning evil in one's heart alone.

The speaker goes on to assign certain meanings to parts of the ḥadīth. Thus, he says changing an evil state by hand does not mean fighting, burning, looting, and throwing rocks – which he thinks protests are all about. Instead, he says changing an evil state by hand means to engage in some "industry", to "get involved", to become "socially active", to use one's heart, and to "spill some blood". Does the phrase in the ḥadīth really exclude protests (represented as fighting, burning, looting, and throwing rocks by the speaker) from its meaning, but allows being understood as engaging in some industry, getting involved, becoming socially active, using one's heart, and spilling some blood? No, indeed!

Similarly, he says seeking to change an evil state by one's tongue does not mean marching and shouting (as in protests). Instead, he says it means we should choose a representative who would speak on our behalf. Again, does the text of the ḥadīth lend to this kind of argument? No, it does not.

The fact is that the speaker's use of this ḥadīth is absolutely fallacious. The text of the ḥadīth does not at all preclude protests as one of the ways in which one's effort to change an evil state might manifest. Seeking to change evil states by hand or by tongue covers all kinds of practical efforts, including protests.

Such fallacious reference to Qur'an and ḥadīth is not uncommon. Why would people do that?

Speakers and authors sometimes refer to an āyah or a ḥadīth because that makes their argument look more authentic. People are likely to take them more seriously. Most lay persons do not see such flaws in an argument. So long as they hear an āyah of Qur'an or some ḥadīth, they would readily believe that the proposed idea is legitimately "Islamic".

Frail references to Qur'an and ḥadīth are also made out of a genuine desire to seek guidance from God's word and recorded practice of the Messenger. In itself, the desire to seek guidance from Qur'an and the Messenger's practice is praiseworthy. The problem occurs when we try to extort guidance when it's not there. Thus, when Qur'an and the recorded practice of the Messenger do not explicitly address an issue, we still try to find āyāt and aḥādīth that might be remotely connected to the matter. In the process, we stretch Qur'anic āyāt and aḥādīth too far. What comes out of this exercise is a flawed argument – an "Islamic" view that is marginally or not at all Islamic.

Instead of trying to spot āyāt and aḥādīth that are remotely (if at all) connected to a matter, it would be so much more useful if we admitted the absence of specific guidance in Qur'an and ḥadīth (when such is the case), and made use of natural/social scientific research tools to find out answers and solutions that are consistent with Islam, though not warranted by Qur'an and ḥadīth. In this way, Muslims would also contribute more significantly to advancement of human thought.

In the case of protests, for example, it would be so much more useful if we referred to experience of various communities with different forms of protest, instead of advancing a fallacious argument from ḥadīth (and inviting critics thereby to ridicule religion). I believe a whole lot of research would already be available that examines different ways of expressing political dissent, which of those ways have proven more useful than others, and what are the advantages and limitations of each of the ways in which people have raised their voices in recent past.

I believe tools of natural/social scientific and historical research can provide useful bases for ongoing legislation, just as humanly-conceived juristic tools (qiyās, istiḥsān, istiṣlāḥ, sadd al‑dharī‘ah etc.) of the past did. We need to explore and exploit the potential of contemporary research tools in informing policy and guiding legislation in matters that are not specifically addressed by Qur'an and authentic records of the Messenger's practice. Human solutions based on rigorous research are more likely to be useful than marginally Islamic views that result from stretching Qur'an and ḥadīth too far.

Monday, March 05, 2012

What the Qur'anic sense of justice entails


(Text of the khuṭbah delivered at UBC on Friday, January 27, 2012)

[First khuṭbah]

الحمد لله والصلاة والسلام على رسول الله، أما بعد قال الله تعالى في كتابه الحكيم:
وقال تعالى أيضا:

Brothers and sisters, I have recited before you two āyāt of Qur’an.

The first one from Sūrat al‑Nisā’ says, “O YOU who believe! Be upholders of justice, and testify to the truth, for the sake of God, even if it is against your own selves or your parents and kinsfolk. Whether the person concerned be rich or poor, God's claim takes precedence over [the claims of] either of them. Do not, then, follow your own desires, lest you swerve from justice. And if you distort [the truth] or avoid/ignore it, behold, God is indeed aware of all that you do!”

The second one from Sūrat al‑Mā’idah says, “O YOU who believe! Be, for the sake of God, upholders of and testifiers for justice; and the hatred of a people should not keep you from dispensing justice [to them]. Be just: this is closest to being God-conscious. And remain conscious of God: verily, God is aware of all that you do.

Brothers and sisters, these two āyāt beautifully outline the Qur’anic sense of justice.

First, Qur’an describes upholding justice as a religious duty – something that we do for the sake of God. Just as we pray for the sake of God, and we fast for the sake of God, establishment of justice is also something we do for the sake of God. And that is what is meant when God says “kūnū qawwāmīna … lillāh….”

The other thing we notice in these āyāt is how “self-criticism” or “introspection” and a policy of “no discrimination” are built in to the Qur’anic sense of justice.

Thus, when God says “wa‑law ‘alá anfusikum aw al‑wālidayn wa‑al‑aqrabīn”, He means that we should be willing to subject our own selves to the demands of justice.

And when He says “in yakun ghanīyan aw faqīran…”, or when He says “wa‑lā yajrimannakum shana’ān qawm ‘alá allā ta‘dilū”, He means that we should not discriminate between people on any grounds while we dispense or advocate justice.

Yet it appears that we, as a community, are lacking in each of these three dimensions of the Qur’anic sense of justice.

Even though Qur’an describes it as a religious duty, concern and advocacy for justice is no longer a priority or preoccupation for most of us. Most of us are actually silent bystanders.

When we do advocate justice, we protest crimes perpetrated by perceived enemies, but rarely do we protest crimes committed by members of our own communities, even though God requires us to subject our own selves to the demands of justice.

Finally, our sense of justice does not cover all; we often discriminate between people as we dispense justice. You would agree with me that discrimination is rampant, even institutionalized in Muslim societies.

I am going to briefly talk about each of these three dimensions. Without getting into particulars, I will try to identify a range of issues that deserve our attention and demand action.



Let’s talk about the first one: that establishment of justice is a religious duty.

Brothers and sisters, we witness enormous injustices around ourselves, but we hardly protest! The challenges are tremendous, but our level of engagement is minimal. You would hardly know any Muslims who are associated with advocacy groups or civil rights movements.

We only seem to speak when we are directly affected, or when our image/reputation is at stake! Those two seem to be the reasons why we spoke up against the murder of three girls and their mother in Ontario, or why we spoke up in response to Jason Kenney’s controversial announcement.

But on a regular basis, we are hardly engaged in advocacy. I wonder how we would justify this casual attitude and lack of engagement before God.

And at least partly, this lack of engagement is because we don’t study social sciences. We are obsessed with science and technology. The result is that our understanding of social problems is less than optimal.



Let’s come to the second dimension: that we should not discriminate between people as we dispense or advocate justice.

We do not want to be discriminated against as minorities.

Yet, discrimination is widespread in many parts of the Muslim world; it is so widespread and commonplace that sometimes we even fail to realize there is anything wrong with it.

There is discrimination in families, employment opportunities, pay scales, even by police, and in courts of law that dispense justice.

There is discrimination based on gender, ethnicity, and religion.

There is even racism. We use derogatory names to refer to certain communities. In Pakistan, for example, we have derogatory names for shī‘ah and Christians. Isn’t that outrageous?

In our advocacy on international issues, we support Syrian protesters, for example, but not those in Bahrain; because the populace in Bahrain is shī‘ah, so we don’t seem to care.

That goes to show that our concern for justice does not cover everyone! Our activism provides limited coverage! We speak for some, but not for others.

Let me reiterate brothers and sisters: God warns us that the enmity of a people should not keep us from delivering justice to them. Our concern for justice should cover all.



Let’s talk about the third dimension now: Are we willing to subject our own communities to the demands of justice?

I’m afraid we are not! To begin with, we are not actively advocating justice. When we do speak up, we are very selective in expressing concern. We speak up against perceived enemies, but not against our own selves. If I could use a metaphor, we are not willing to be violated by outsiders, but we tend to tolerate wife-beaters at home; even though Qur’an requires us to subject everyone to the demands of justice.

We advocate freedom of speech in Canada, but in our countries of origin, we do not have a problem when voices of dissent are gagged.

We protest American or Israeli aggression. But we don’t protest the crimes committed by Pakistani soldiers in Bangladesh in 1971 (for example).

And nowadays, Bangladesh government is mistreating people associated with an organization that did not support independence of Bangladesh in 1971. We need to protest that as well.

We need to redress the Darfur tragedy in Sudan.

We need to urge Turkey to exercise restraint with Kurdish activists.

We should not only speak up when Jason Kenney says covering face is “un-Canadian”, but also advocate that Turkish or Tunisian women be allowed to wear scarves at schools or in government buildings.

We should also protest when Taliban or other Muslim fanatics force women to cover their faces. We should protest acid attacks on women who refuse to wear veils. After all, forcing women to wear a veil is as bad as forcing women not to wear a veil. Let women decide for themselves whether they want to cover their faces or not.

We should also protest when some religious vigilantes take al‑amr bi‑al‑ma‘rūf wa‑al‑nahy ‘an al‑munkar too far, and end up coercing people in matters of religion. They can advise people, but they cannot force them.

We should condemn the so-called “honor killings” not only when they occur in Canada and put our reputation at stake, but also when they occur in Muslim countries.

We should condemn forced marriages of women that happen so often in Muslim societies.

Do you know that women are even married to Qur’an sometimes in Pakistan, so that the property or wealth will not go outside the family? How many Pakistanis do you know who protest that? But on the other hand, Pakistanis are so concerned that the US might have wronged Afia Siddiqui.

Brothers and sisters, we must advocate justice across the board. We must fight injustice even when the perpetrator is an insider. We must guarantee justice to the weaker members of our societies, whether they are women, or ethnic or religious minorities, or foreigners.

In times of strength, we should not do things that we cannot defend in times of weakness. We should not do things for which critical historians would shame us!

With this I conclude the first part of my talk!



[Second khuṭbah]

الحمد لله رب العالمين والصلاة والسلام على الأنبياء والمرسلين.

Brothers and sisters: Some of you might think why I am talking to you about this! You are “Canadians” now!

But do we not appreciate when some Canadians or Americans advocate justice for Palestinians even though they are not related to anyone in Palestine, and they are not even Muslims? Just like that, even after you start thinking of yourself as “Canadians”, you have a responsibility towards all parts of the world.

You have a responsibility towards all of humanity, because you are human beings. You have a responsibility towards the Muslim world because you are Muslims. You have a responsibility towards the Arab world, because you are Arabs.

And I’m sure, even after you become Canadians; you retain family ties with your countries of origin. Many of you, I’m sure, have dual citizenships.

So you continue to have responsibility towards your countries of origin, and other parts of the world.

Brothers and sisters, we have responsibility moreover because God has given us the opportunity to live as a minority and understand the importance of justice, religious freedom, freedom of speech, and not being discriminated against. Fellow Muslims who have lived all their lives in Muslim majority countries often do not understand the importance of these principles – partly because they are not minorities, and partly because these values are often packaged with anti-religious rhetoric, which goes back to the historical tensions between Christianity and secular humanism. We have a responsibility to articulate these values and concerns in a way that they would be received well by fellow Muslims across the world.

Those of us who are good at writing should write and publish about social problems and advocate social justice in countries of origin. We should talk to people back home. We should support organizations that are fighting oppression and injustice. We should make our own civil rights and advocacy groups if we are not satisfied with the existing groups. At the minimum, we could sometimes share news reports and write status lines on Facebook and Twitter to express concern over reposted acts of injustice, at home or abroad.

These are some of the ways in which, I thought, we can play our part in advocating and upholding justice. You can identify other ways in which you and other community members can play a part.

إن الله وملائكته يصلون على النبي؛ ياأيها الذين آمنوا صلوا عليه وسلموا تسليما.

اللهم صل على محمد كما صليت على إبراهيم إنك حميد مجيد؛ اللهم بارك على محمد كما باركت على إبراهيم إنك حميد مجيد.

اللهم أرنا الحق حقا وارزقنا اتباعه، وأرنا الباطل باطلا وارزقنا اجتنابه.

Brothers and sisters, join me as I pray to Allah subḥanah wa‑ta‘ālá: O Allah, show us what is right as right, and enable us to pursue it; and show us what is wrong as wrong, and enable us to refrain from it.

اللهم إنا نسألك رزقا واسعا وعلما نافعا وعملا متقبلا.

O Allah, we ask you for abundance of legitimate means, knowledge that benefits us individually as well as humanity collectively, and deeds and action that is deemed acceptable by you.

ربنا آتنا في الدنيا حسنة وفي الآخرة حسنة وقنا عذاب النار.

O Allah, give us the best in this world, and the best in the other life.

رب ارحمهم كما ربونا صغارا.

O Allah, be merciful to our parents just as they brought us up with love and mercy.

ربنا اشرح لنا صدورنا، ويسر لنا أمورنا، واحلل عقدة من ألسنتنا، يفقهوا قولنا.

O Allah, open our intellectual faculties for us, make the daunting tasks that we are faced with easy for us, and give us clarity and coherence in speech, so that our audiences understand us.

Brothers and sisters, Let us be among those who uphold justice, even if that means we sometimes have to testify against our own selves, our families, or our community; let us be upholders of justice regardless of whether the parties involved are rich or poor, influential or weak. And let not the enmity of a people keep us from delivering justice to them.

وأقم الصلاة.