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We Need to Progress; But to Where Exactly? (Pt.1)

Thu, 16 Oct 2008 16:41:30 +0100

Recently, I was surprised to learn that my name had been included in a launch publication which sets out a number of recommendations to combat terrorism. Released in an air of anticipated controversy, it listed a number of emerging progressive, British Muslim voices; of whom I was one. I wasn’t sure if I should feel concerned, bemused, privileged or bewildered by such an inclusion. Given I have no links with the ‘counter extremism think tank’ headed by two former ‘Islamists’ that published the paper,1 I’ve not yet understood what I’ve done to merit an inclusion. Truth be told, bemused or privileged I feel not; bewildered and concerned I most certainly am.

Being associated with a discourse against terrorism is definitely not my worry here. In fact, combating violent extremism, and exposing its false theological underpinnings, has been a core aspect of my outreach programme ever since the early nineties - for which I first thank God for His grace, and thereafter my teachers in Sacred Law for alerting me to its evils. No, my unease, among other things, concerns the idea of progress and being progressive. What does it mean? And what are we meant to be progressing towards?

At first blush, these questions may sound strange; particularly from someone who is supposed to be a progressive, British Muslim voice. But that’s my point. We’ve become so used to using such terms, that more often than not, we seem to have lost the sense of what is being intended by them. Standard dictionary definitions explain the word progress as ‘a movement forward towards a given direction’; or ‘a development towards a more advanced state’. More often than not, it is employed to mean ‘favouring new ideas and social reform’. Here, for many Muslims, the questions that immediately come to mind are: Does Islam need development? Is the Islamic faith crude; primitive - barbaric, even - that it needs to be made more advanced? Who has the right to decide such issues, and who does the task then fall upon to ‘update’ this age-old faith? Some will even ask how such proposed changes square with the Quranic declaration about the religion being ‘complete’ and ‘perfect’: This day have I perfected your religion for you, and completed My favour upon you, and chosen Islam for you as religion.2 The more theologically grounded will assert that believing any established, clear-cut injunction3 of Islam to be primitive or outdated - let alone claiming it to be barbaric - is nothing short of disbelief; kufr. After all, doesn’t the Qur’an insist about God and His judgements: Is not God the best of Judges?4 Moreover: Is it a judgement of [idolatrous] ignorance that they are seeking? Who is a better judge than God for a people who have certainty of faith?5 So faith requires, not just accepting that God’s judgement is good; but that it is, in fact, the best!

What follows, I suppose, are some reflections about the nature of progress and the social changes we find ourselves in, and the responses we as Muslims are beginning to adopt in order to adapt; keep our faith relevant; and offer healing to a world deeply wounded - wa bihi nasta’in. For the sake of convenience, I’ve divided these reflections into six headings:

1. Divine Law, Human Efforts, Tools for Adaption

What I’d like to touch upon first is the nature of ‘Islamic Law’ or shari‘ah. The words shari’ah means ‘path’ or ‘track’, with its origins referring to the path by which wild animals would come down to drink at their watering place. In the religious vernacular, shari’ah refers to Islam’s Sacred Law: a road, so to speak, that leads to where the waters of life flow abundantly.

The science that evolved so as to understand the shari’ah is called fiqh, usually translated as ‘jurisprudence’, and is culled from the word faqiha; which means ‘to understand’. Fiqh, therefore, is about understanding the divine commands and the way they shape the life-pattern of the believers. Strictly speaking, then, shari’ah refers to the actual body of revealed laws, whereas fiqh is the science of understanding these laws - and this involves human effort.

This ‘effort’ to understand, expound, and adapt the law so as to keep it relevant to the age and place Muslims may find themselves in, is known as ijtihad, and it is the prerogative of mujtahids - those judged to be qualified and capable of such efforts, but only after receiving prolonged theological, legal, grammatical and hermeneutical training. Fathoming the intent of the Lawgiver, or inferring new rulings from the primary sources, is always an uphill task. Oftentimes the jurist has to struggle through long days and nights before reaching an opinion. The Arabic terminology used to signify this is badhl al-juhd, or istifragh al-wus’, which basically means expending all possible effort to evaluate the proof-texts so as to reach a ruling. The mujtahid, in other words, leaves no stone unturned in order to uncover the divine intent. The significance is that ijtihad is not just one of juristic effort or exertion; but of exhaustion! Needless to say, a mujtahid’s ijtihad must not contradict any categorical stipulation in the revealed texts, nor contravene an established point of scholarly consensus (ijma’).

Shaykh al-Shalabi, addressing the charge that Islam seeks to “turn the clock back”, states: “As for that phenomenon questionably termed progress, it has never impaired Islam’s relevance and effectiveness. Islam, as the Prophet taught it, works well in the technological age; indeed it seems to be the only religion which has retained its dynamism and character intact in the modern world.” He goes on to write: “Islam was forbidden to create a priestly class. Rather, it developed a tradition of religious scholars (‘ulema), who, although they were possessed of no special sacramental function, nevertheless provided the intellectual re-articulation of eternal truths to a world in constant flux. It was the religious scholars who assessed new legal situations, new doctrinal challenges, and who suggested ways in which an adaption to novel circum-stances could be effected while remaining loyal to the revelation of the Qur'an and the teachings of the Prophet. This process of adaption is termed ijtihad, a technical and highly sophisticated science of jurisprudence which, while affirming the timeless efficacy of the social teachings set down in revelation, provides a means for the systematic extension of these guidelines when circumstance demands. ... This capacity, not for change, but for expansion, undoubtedly constitutes a key factor in Islam’s continuing dynamism.”6

A closing thought to the section. For close to a thousand years, Islam’s juristic enterprise has been a key factor in the stability of Muslim societies. Every now and then, though, there have been those who have claimed the right to exercise ijtihad; and, as Ibn Rajab al-Hanbali wrote, “Among them were those allowed to do so, given that the truth of their claim had become clear. Others, however, had their words hurled back at them, and were deemed to have been false in their claim.”7 Separating the wheat from the chaff is essential if the integrity of our legal culture is to be retained. Islam, without sounding too conspiratorial, has shrewd opponents and intelligent foes who realise this fact only too well. It is sad to see, then, many enthusiastic lay folk now being taught that their faith obliges them to ‘evaluate’ and ‘weigh-up’ the evidences, and to then follow the ‘strongest’ view as per the proofs. Their unqualified dabbling in the fine art of ijtihad - for that is what they are attempting - has not only led to chaos, bitter conflict and social mayhem, it has also served to weaken the juristic tradition which has so lent itself to Islam’s durability. This is not suggesting such people have ‘sided with the enemy’; they have, nonetheless, become unwitting pawns in the attempted dismantling of Islam’s legal tradition. Having strayed this far, others will drift further still.

2. Remembering Our Journey’s End

Progress, as noted before, signifies a movement forward; but it tells us nothing about the direction of this movement. Is it uphill or downhill? Is it an ascent or a descent? Is it a lifting of the Spirit or a fall from Grace? There are many things that march progressively forward. Even cancer is progressive. What I’m trying to say is: how do we know if progress is good for us, and by what standard is it measured? One of Islam’s arbab al-qulub - “spiritual masters” or “masters of the inward life” - once uttered the remark: “fi’l-harakah barakah - in movement there is blessings.” Clearly, though, not every movement is blessed.

Even the point of how far we’ve advanced in terms of science and technology is something of a red herring when evaluating the idea of change and progress. The Qur’an relates a number of narratives about former civilisations and their ‘technological’ achievements of the day. Yet when put side by side with their intransigence and heedlessness of the divine Reality, such progress is seen for what it really is: folly, delusion and civilisational arrogance. Says the Qur’an: Have they not travelled in the earth and seen the end of those before them. They were stronger than they in power, and they dug the earth and built upon it more than they have built. Their Messengers came to them with clear proofs. God wronged them not, but they wronged themselves. Evil was the end of those who dealt in evil, because they denied the signs of God and mocked them.8

Early Muslim pietists were at pains to instil in us the vital Quranic lesson, that material progress - ‘digging the earth and building upon it’ - can never be the measure of any true or meaningful success. Islamic sources relate to us that in 649AD the first Muslim navel expedition was sent against the Mediterranean island of Cyprus, which was under the control of a Byzantine empire; now in its twilight years. The Muslim army was quick to overrun the small Byzantine garrison and the Cypriots were soon paying tribute to the Muslims. On seeing the ease with which the people of this once powerful empire lay defeated and subdued, the famous Companion of the Prophet, Abu’l-Darda, began to weep. On being asked why he wept on the day God had granted victory to Islam and the Muslims, he answered: “Woe to you! How insignificant creation become to God when they neglect His commands. Here is a nation that was once mighty and strong, and had dominion. But they abandoned the commands of God, so look what’s become of them.”9

In judging the contemporary world’s unrelenting drive for progress, believers need not concur with all the orthodoxies and popular assumptions of the age. Civilisational greatness and technological progress for their own sake, as can be seen, count for very little in the Quranic scheme of things. We are not to be mesmerised by “the barefooted, scantly-clad, destitute herdsmen competing in constructing lofty buildings,” as the Prophet forewarned.10 Digging the earth is one thing; burying the path to the soul’s salvation is another thing altogether. Hence let us pose that all-important question again: How should change and progress be appraised?

“For Muslims,” wrote Gai Eaton, “there can be only one test by which to assess change. Does it promote piety - awareness of the divine presence - or diminish it? Does it lead to an increasing number of men and women to the gates of Paradise or does it encourage them to stray from God’s path? Does it reinforce the divinely revealed Law or does it blur the distinction between what is commanded and what is forbidden? There are, of course, other considerations but they must take a lower place in a fixed order of priorities. An increase in life expectancy is, obviously, a good thing, but it is worthless if these additional years do not lead to an increasing awareness of the divine Reality which we are soon to meet. There is nothing inherently wrong with the comforts provided by the modern world, better hygiene, better drainage, more convenient means of transport, but these count for nothing if their soft embrace encourages us to forget our origin and our end.”11

3. Muslim Responses to Social Change

I suppose there are a few ways of depicting how we as Muslims are currently trying to square loyalty to the shari’ah with our rapidly-changing social context. Any such description, though, will be a generalisation; an approximation of a fairly complex set of dynamics. Yet to make such subtleties indecently simple, we can say that two orientations towards change are discernible. The first is often referred to as ‘traditionalist’; the second, ‘modernist’. Although these two methods represent the two ends of the spectrum for change, nonetheless there is some overlap as one moves from the poles down to the middle. To add some sense of nuance, I’d like to sub-divide the traditionalists into two groups, thus giving us three broad responses to change:

I. THE ULTRA CONSERVATIVES

The traditionalist position, which is that of the mainstream ‘ulema, or scholars, is conservative; emphasises classical formulations of Islam; and is cautious of innovation and change. At its extreme are the ultra-conservatives; those who believe that Islam has been sufficiently expressed in classical tomes of fiqh, and that it is not the pre-modern formulations of Islam that need changing, but the society that has drifted away from its guidance. When they do permit change, it is seen as something temporary; a sort of weathering the storm.

II. NUANCED TRADITIONALISTS

The second group of traditionalists take a much more nuanced approach. They are careful to distinguish between those aspects of the shari’ah which are fixed and unchanging, and those open to adaption and expansion. In other words, they recognise that some religious rulings are immutable, whereas others are contingent and cultural. They also distinguish between the ‘illah - the rationale which gives rise to a legal ruling, and hikmah - the actual wisdom behind the given ruling. They also draw on the rich body of legal philosophy which deals with the aims of the Sacred Law (maqasid al-shari’ah), as well as give credence to customs and norms - as per the legal maxim: al-‘adah muhakkamah - “cultural norms have the weight of law”, or “custom determines what is law”. There is also the rule which dictates that: taghayyur al-fatwa bi taghayyur al-azman - “the fatwa changes with the changing of time”. Additionally, jurists have at their disposal a large body of fatwas and legal precedents which go under the rubric of: ma ta’ummu bihi al-balwah - “problematic issues that are of general concern to the community”. This refers to those circumstances for which, when certain afflictions become rampant and widespread, and begin to affect many people, allowances must then be made for them due to the legal concept of darurah: “neccessity/vital interest”. It goes without saying that knowing how and when to employ such complex legal devices is the art and craft of the jurist-mujtahid; and none other.

Al-Qarafi, a prominent sixth century jurist, wrote: “Those handing down legal judgements while clinging blindly to the texts in their books, without regard for the cultural realities of their people, are in gross error. They are in opposition to established legal consensus as well as being guilty of sin and disobedience before God ... Their blind adherence to what is written in the legal compendia is misguidance in the religion of Islam and utter ignorance of the ultimate aims behind the rulings of the past scholars and great personages of the past whom they claim to be imitating.”12

Two centuries later, Ibn al-Qayyim endorsed al-Qarafi’s approach, affirming: “This is pure understanding of the Sacred Law. Whoever issues legal rulings to the people based merely upon what is transmitted in the compendia - despite differences in their customs, usages, times, places, conditions, as well a special circumstances of their situation - has strayed and leads others astray.”13

Applying the law to new and evolving situations is, without doubt, a difficult task, and at times there may be a fine line between adaption and adulteration: but a line there nevertheless is. The traditional ‘ulema have, during the last few centuries, seen a rising number of charlatans - far removed from fulfilling the requisites of ijtihad - calling for reform of the shari‘ah, and claiming the right to do so for themselves. Hence in the eyes of those learned in Sacred Law, talk of change, or of adapting to the times, has more to do with hawa: caprice; whims; desires, than it does huda: divine guidance.

To sum-up: for such traditionalists, change (or rather, adaptation) occurs under the guidance of jurists and mujtahids, and in a way that is accepting, yet critical and selective of what the West has to offers in terms of science, technology and intellectual thought. Along with this, there must be a realisation that it is in the very nature of the modern, secular world to erode all that is sacred, and that its offerings are seldom neutral or value-free, but are instead enmeshed in profane western values and philosophies: secularism, individualism, materialism. For traditionalists, the issue isn’t about whether the law needs to adapt to change; instead it is about how much and by whom. For traditionalists, also, at the heart of any adaption must lie the preservation of faith, sacred norms, and obedience to the Divine Will.

III. MODERNISTS

As for the modernists, it is difficult to pigeon-hole them into a single unified narrative. Modernism is more of a rubric for a number of diverse ideas, trends and peoples: reformists, liberals, progressivists, secularists. What may be said to characterise them all is their jettisoning of tradition which, in Islam’s case, refers to an unbroken chain of learning and received wisdoms reaching all the way back to our Prophet, peace be upon him. Tradition is backward looking; it suffocates progress; it’s a relic of the past, the modernists would have us believe. Hence the mantra of modernism: “Islam needs a reformation.” After all, they argue, Christianity underwent a Reformation, and look what happened there. Look indeed!

The concluding part of this blog (to be posted shortly, God willing) discusses the modernists’ assertion that Islam requires some sort of reformation. It will also consider their claim that the traditional ‘ulema are still stuck in some sort of ‘nostalgic Madinah’.

SURKHEEL (ABU AALIYAH) SHARIF

Notes
1. Cf. Quilliam Foundation, Pulling Together to Defeat Terror, 8. The actual document was released during the Foundation’s inaugural launch, 22/4/2008, and may be read at: www.quilliamfoundation.org
2. Qur’an 5:3.
3. By “established, clear-cut injunction,” I mean those rulings of the faith stemming from proofs that are univocal and categorical in their content and transmission (qat’i al-dalalah wa’l-riwayah).
4. Qur’an 95:8.
5. Qur’an 5:50.
6. Islam: Religion of Life (USA: Starlatch Press, 2001), 23-4.
7. Al-Radd ‘ala Man Ittaba’ Ghayra’l-Madhahib al-Arba’ah (Makkah: Dar ‘Alam al-Fawa’id, 1998), 29.
8. Qur’an 30:9-10. Also cf. 6:6, 8:54, 22:45.
9. Ibn Hanbal, al-Zuhd, 1:86 - as cited in Ibn al-Qayyim, al-Da’ wa’l-Dawa’ (Riyadh: Dar Ibn al-Jawzi, 1998), 67.
10. Muslim, Sahih, no.8.
11. Gai Eaton, Remembering God: Reflections on Islam (Cambridge: The Islamic Texts Society, 2000), 25-6.
12. Cited in Dr Umar Faruq Abd-Allah, Islam & the Cultural Imperative, 6-7; at www.nawawi.org/downloads/article3.pdf
13. I’lam al-Muwaqqi’in (Riyadh: Dar Ibn al-Jawzi, 2003), 4:470.

Fussing Over the 15th of Sha’ban

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 12:35:37 +0100

Historically, jurists have differed over whether the 15th night of Sha‘ban has any distinctive merit or not. Some uphold its merit and consider the night to be laylat al-bara’ah- “the Night of Emancipation [from the Fire].” Other scholars are of the opinion that the night in question has no merit or distinction at all over any other night of the year. Based on these two views, the first group of jurists rule that singling-out the night for the performance of superogatory acts of devotion - prayer (salat), invocation (dhikr), supplication (du’a), etc - is sanctioned by the Sacred Law and is meritorious. The latter group declare that, laudable as the intention may be, to specify the night for acts of worship and devotion is not sanctioned by the Sacred Law, or shari‘ah, at all.

The objective of this paper is twofold. Firstly, to discuss why such differences have arisen in this issue, and how each stance has its legitimacy in the canons of Islamic jurisprudence. Secondly, and more importantly, the issue serves to lay down a golden principle in areas of legitimate differing - a principle which, if contravened, constitutes a clear-cut deviation from the Islamic norm and the teachings of the blessed Sunnah. The paper is entitled: Fussing Over the 15th of Sha’ban & the Golden Rule of Differing and may be read here.

It is hoped that the paper will help remove some of the schisms that oftentime surround this matter - what with certain factions of the Muslims claiming that their view alone constitutes ‘true’ or ‘authentic’ Islam. Indeed, schisms always thrive when sustained by the murky waters of bigotry!

SURKHEEL (ABU AALIYAH) SHARIF

More Fish Please!

Sun, 18 May 2008 12:49:43 +0100

An American businessman was once standing on the jetty of a Mexican coastal village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complemented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it had taken to catch them. The Mexican replied, ‘Only a little while.’ The American then inquired why he didn’t stay out longer and catch more fish. The Mexican said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs.

The American then asked, ‘But what do you do with the rest of your time?’ The Mexican said, ‘I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll in the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, Senõr.’

The American scoffed, ‘I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York, where you would run your expanding enterprise.’

The Mexican fisherman asked, ‘But Senõr, how long would this all take?’ To which the American replied, ‘Fifteen to twenty years.’

‘But what then, Senõr?’

The American laughed and said that was the best part. ‘When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.’

‘Millions, Senõr? Then what?’

The American said, ‘Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.’1

More Fish Please, We’re British!

In his book Happiness, Richard Layard argues that, “once subsistence income is guaranteed, making people happier is not easy.”2 His central argument is that as Western societies have got richer, their citizens have not got any happier. In fact, all the indicators suggest that, despite the increase in living standards and material comforts, we are no happier today than we were fifty years ago.

Britain is only now waking up to the social ills that its “buy now, pay later” culture has brought about. Easy credit and borrowing beyond our means has plunged this country into a huge debt crisis. This, in turn, has caused untold angst and misery for the nation: what with mortgage arrears escalating, more homes being repossessed, bankruptcies increasing, and peoples’ personal debts spiraling out of control. Simple wisdoms such as ‘if you haven’t got the money, don't spend it’ or ‘do you need to spend’ have, for the past decade or so, been sidelined and even bulldozed out of our collective sensibilities. Our culture of unbridled consumerism, rather than being a path to fulfillment, has become a national addiction. ‘Crack-consumerism’ is the collective substance abuse that we as a nation now indulge in.

How Britain moved from being a nation where thrift was a virtue and debt a vice, to owing a staggering trillion pounds (£1,000,000,000,000) on mortgages, credit cards and other loans, is the subject of some debate. It was less than a generation ago that borrowing money carried with it a severe social stigma. To borrow was to admit to living beyond one’s means. But that was then. Today’s Britain is one where the moral principles of thrift, foresight and responsibility have been substituted by greed and the cult of instant gratification. Today’s Britain is one where the social pressures and economic attitudes that surround us urge us to want more than we need; cajole us to mistake wants for needs. Our culture’s current measure of success make us crave for more possessions, more money, more status ... more ‘fish’.

Yet the very happiness we are promised buy buying those designer jeans, that mobile phone or this latest car, is what the next product assures us we do not have until we buy something else. As consumers, then, we end up anxious; unfulfilled; and unhappy - yet consumers nonetheless! “The endless spiral of material acquisition,” says Stephan Law, “cannot in fact make us more content. Like a drug addict, we simply get accustomed to whatever we’re getting, cease to derive much pleasure from it, and so start demanding even more. As a result, explains the philosopher Peter Singer, ‘once we have satisfied our basic needs, there is no level of material comfort at which we are likely to find significantly greater long-term fulfillment than any other level.’”3

More Fish Please, We’re Modern!

It was Gandhi who once said: “The world caters for everyone’s need, but not everyone’s greed.” Although it has become something of a cliche, I’ll say it regardless: If everyone on this earth were to live and consume like the average Briton, we would need three more earths to service this consumerist lifestyle; six more if we all wanted to live like the average American. In his latest book Affluenza, Oliver James speaks of an ‘affluenza virus’ that is sweeping through the English-speaking world. This virus, he says, is a set of values which make us extremely prone to anxiety, depression and emotional stress, because of placing to high a value on consumerism and wanting to look good in the eyes of others. Whatsmore, he insists, we are now infecting the rest of the world with this virulent virus.4

A consumer-addicted society demands the quick and careless use of materials, and is built on the myth that human happiness can be found on the material plane alone. It also relies on its citizens being detached from, and blind to, the global havoc such a worldview spawns. Here, then, is a gentle reminder of just what we are currently doing to our planet, let alone its people, so as to keep the ‘fish’ coming in:

Half the world’s natural forests are being destroyed, whilst the remainder is being lost by an area half the size of Norway every year. Nearly a third of all the world’s cultivable land for growing food has been degraded because of intensive and unsustainable agricultural practices. Although still somewhat contentious, most scientists believe that greenhouse gases and the resultant climate changes have increased weather-related disasters such as droughts, floods and storms, and threatens to raise sea levels, submerge low-lying lands and reduce the world’s habitable areas. Seventy per-cent of the world’s fresh water is now being used for agriculture; in fact, one in five people around the globe survive on less water per day than is used to flush a toilet. And then, of course, there are the fish. Half of the world’s fisheries are now depleted, while another quarter is currently being over-fished. The human tragedy of all this modern greed and consumption is even more grotesque.

“And of course,” says Law, “ever-rising levels of consumption are impossible to maintain, for the resources we are drawing are finite. Not only are we damaging ourselves by pursuing our addiction to acquisitive materialism, we are also damaging the environment, eventually to the point where it will be beyond repair. Singer argues that we need fundamentally to rethink our attitudes to contentment, and to reject the consumerist model of happiness that is dragging us all to our doom.”5

More Fish Please, We’re Muslims!

Islam too has many significant things to say to us about our modern dilemma of consumerism - though this may not immediately be apparent if one were to look at Muslim attitudes toward consumption. Even those outside our faith tradition are starting to point out that we Muslims consume more food during the month of fasting, than we do outside of it! Our craving for more fish, it would appear, is little different than anyone else's.

Yet for a faith that has as one of its cardinal virtues zuhd - asceticism; a worldly detachment where luxury and opulence is shunned in favour of a simple and pious life - one would expect Muslims to be among the least afflicted by what is essentially an atheistic, materialistic, consumerist ideology. Sad, then, that many of us seem only to want to live the migrant’s dream and to sit back on our leather sofas; our four or five remote controls at hand for the plasma TV and home-entertainment system; mercedes parked outside the door; mulling over what improvements to make to our homes next, and to feel pleased with ourselves because we’ve made it.

Such attitudes don’t quite square with the teachings of the Prophet, peace be upon him, who said: “Successful is he who accepts Islam, whose provisions are sufficient for him, and who is content with what God has bestowed on him.”6 Nor does it accord with the spirit of the prayer he would make: “O God, make the provisions of Muhammad’s family suffice their basic needs.”7 As for zuhd, he once remarked: “Renounce the world, and God will love you; renounce what others possess, and people will love you.”8 In fact, “Whoever loves this worldly life,” asserts one prophetic saying, “does damage to his Afterlife; and whoever loves the Afterlife, does damage to his present life. So prefer what is eternal to what is ephemeral.”9

Less there be some confusion here, Islam does not ask its adherents to forsake the material world and to live a monastic life. It does, however, stricture that the material world not become of greater concern to a believer than God and the Afterlife. Such an attitude is culled from the following verse of the Qur’an: “But seek the abode of the Afterlife in that which God has given you, and forget not your portion of the world, and be kind even as God has been kind to you, and seek not corruption in the earth; for God loves not the corrupters.”10

Islam is the great dissident force in today’s world. If we are all being dragged to our environmental doom, we need to be the ones applying the brakes. But this is not the place for mere pious sentiments, or being an armchair critic. We need to live the change we want to see in others and in society. This involves sacrifice; of instating the prophetic virtue of zuhd in our lives. We must show, as individuals and as communities, that Muslims have a real alternative to today’s consumer madness and the suffering it causes. As Muslims, we must live for the poor and with the poor. We must emancipate ourselves from being enslaved to this deceptive consumerist ideology. In essence, we need nothing short of what Abdul Hakim Murad calls “a prophetic uprising”.

One place to start would be with rethinking our attitudes towards wealth and consumerism. Layard explains in his book how social comparisons; the desire to keep up with the Smiths and the Jones, is an interminable source of stress for most people. He says that studies show that people are concerned about their income and wealth relative to that of others, and how “they would be willing to accept a significant fall in living standards if they could move up compared to other people.”11 “So one secret of happiness,” he unveils to the reader, “is to ignore comparisons with people who are more successful than you are: always compare downwards, not upwards.”12

Informed Muslims will, no doubt, be quick to recall the Prophet’s words, peace be upon him: “Look at those who are below you [in wealth and status], do not look at those who are above you, so as not to belittle the favours that God has conferred on you.”13 And that’s precisely the point. Our happiness and our being content depend profoundly on our attitudes. For believers, the Prophet’s life is the finest example of how to live simply and be content, even when the world is thrown at your feet. His teachings are a treasure-trove of practical wisdoms on how to educate the spirit, yet live functionally in today’s material world. And the guidance he brought can help to distinguish between the ‘fish’ we need and those we merely want. It has the power to direct us towards a life of being content and sufficed, instead of being selfish.

SURKHEEL (ABU AALIYAH) SHARIF

Notes
1. Cited in Zohar & Marshal, Spiritual Intelligence (London & New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2001), p.282.
2. Happiness: Lessons from a New Science (England: Penguin Books, 2006), 4.
3. The Xmas Files (Great Britain: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2003), 68.
4. Affluenza (Great Britain: Vermilion, 2007).
5. The Xmas Files, 68-9.
6. Muslim, Sahih, no.1054.
7. Al-Bukhari, Sahih, no.6460; Muslim, no.1055.
8. Ibn Majah, Sunan, no.4102.
9. Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, 4:412.
10. Qur’an 28:77.
11. Happiness, 42.
12. ibid., 47.
13. Al-Bukhari, no.6490; Muslim, no.2963.

The Remake of King Kong

Mon, 10 Mar 2008 10:34:47 +0000

Ever noticed how there seems to be a myriad of films coming out of Hollywood on comic book characters and remakes of older films like King Kong, War of the Worlds, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the remake of Star Trek? What ever happened to originality? Where is the creativity of the media masters? My guess is that such lapses in creativity happen in troubled times. People are apparently comforted by the cosy and familiar when reality is lying await, in the dark. It has been the same in previous periods of uncertainty. The 'creative' industries retrench and become more conservative, less interested in novelty. As a result, remakes abound.

We too in Islam ar experiencing this lack of spirit and originality, brought on by our troubled times and uncertainty of where we are going and what we all should be doing. If you were to examine some of the PhD dissertations from numerous Islamic Universities, you would find that many of them are centred on rechecking of classical masterpieces or studying an opinion of a past scholar. If you were to visit the printing houses of Lebanon and Egypt where most of the Islamic books are printed today, or visit some of the book fairs in the Middle East, you will see how almost every publisher prints familiar books - with yet another checking or typeset. Originality is eroded in what seems to be an assertion that scholarship and deep research is limited to the past - even though we are the most in need of this originality. Their assertion is only based on our uncertainty and people's instant comfort with familiarity.

A cursory look at some of the most comprehensive books of fiqh show a lack of discussion of some of the most pressing questions of our times. This is not due to inability, rather due to the absence of these issues in those times. Many committees of scholars in different countries discuss numerous modern issues that pertain to them in matters of business and medicine, yet many others that matter to Muslims living in the West, such as judging and arbitration, political participation, citizenship, police and armed force participation, reconciling Western and Islamic inhertiance laws, Islamic curriculum for Western Muslim schools - issues that are rarely dealt with. Is there not a requirement for those capable to look into these matters and work on original pieces and solutions to these problems? Or are we to rely on the lacking judgements of a few students of knowledge that visit the West in the summer from the Middle East, and only know our life and what we go through for a limited period of time?

Last year, I helped a student at one of the most prestigious Islamic Universities in the world with his PhD thesis on the Islamic position concerning tissue banks - everything from cornea banks to breast milk banks to DNA banks. It was interesting to note that neither the student nor the professors arguing the dissertation were medically qualified to understand the material. I had a difficult time translating untranslatable medical terms into Arabic such that laymen could understand and I question my efficacy in that. In any case, the brother did do well. He got his PhD with a distinction. However, I will have serious reservations from using his conclusions. How can I rely on the conclusions of some one not qualified to understand that which he is writing about? This is the sad state of affairs in some of our academic circles. Rarely are unfamiliar topics dealt with, and when they are, people not qualified to do so.

The most frustrating situation for me has been when I am forced to answer a question in two minutes that in reality will require two years for me to research. Should I answer based upon general principles and general rules of fiqh, or shall I avoid answering and leave our questioner to the unscrupulous pseudo scholars that abound in our times? It is a dilemma that I continue to struggle with. If those capable amongst our ummah do not take-up the academic challenge that should beacon to them like Mount Everest to every climber, then we in the West will continue to struggle for answers to our needs.

Personally, I will not tolerate another King Kong movie.

SHAYKH ABU YUSUF TAWFIQUE CHOWDHURY *

Notes
* Reproduced with kind permission from Al-Kauthar Institute, www.alkauthar.org (with some minor editing). Shaykh Tawfique is both the founder and director of the Institute.

Zakat: A Dereliction of Duty?

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 22:30:10 +0000

In describing the essential traits of the God-conscious; the muttaqun, the Qur’an informs [2:3] that they are those who believe in the unseen, establish the prayer, and spend out of what We have given them. Ibn Kathir, a classical scholar of the Qur’an commentary, wrote as part of his exegesis to the above verse: “God frequently pairs together prayer and spending in charity. Prayer is a right of God and an act of devotion to Him. This [right] involves singling Him out for worship, praising Him, extolling His glory, earnestly invoking Him, petitioning Him, and trusting in Him. Spending, by contrast, is part of benevolence towards creation through reaching out to help them.”1

Revelation is filled with examples of pairing these two rights or huquq: the rights of God, and the rights of creation. For example, we read in the Qur’an [2:83]: “Worship none save God, and show kindness to your parents.” Also [17:23]: Your Lord has decreed that you worship none but Him, and that you show kindness to your parents. Then there is the oft-repeated Qur’anic stricture [22:78]: Observe the prayer and pay the zakat.

The hadith canons cite the Prophet, peace be upon him, saying: “Be conscious of God wherever you are, and follow up a bad deed with a good one and it will wipe it out. And behave well towards people.”2 The first half of this prophetic instruction alerts us to God’s rights; the second, the rights due to others. In a similar encounter comes the hadith: “Arrogance is to reject the truth,” thereby violating God’s right, “and to scorn others.”3

This pairing is so intrinsic to our faith that religious observance, in its entirety, can be said to revolve around huququ’Llah wa huquq al-’ibad - the right of God, and rights of creation. Ibn Rajab, however, makes a timely observation in this respect which we would do well to pay heed to. He says that, “Many in whom attentiveness in fulfilling the rights of God predominate, and who are devoted to God’s love, fear and obedience, either totaly neglect the rights of creation, or fall short with respect to them.”4

Spending

The “spending (infaq) out of what God has given” in the above verse takes on two forms of giving. One is sadaqah - the spending of which is voluntary; the other, zakat - the spending of which is mandatory. The term sadaqah (usually translated as “alms” or “charity”) covers, not just the giving of money to the deserving poor, but also the giving of one’s self: one’s talents, one’s learning, or simply one’s time. The act is seen as meritorious in and of itself purely on altruistic grounds. However, the spiritual significance of sadaqah should not be overlooked. For the giving of regular sadaqah attracts madad: the flow of divine assistance, and helps repel misfortune.

Zakat, a word that signifies growth, blessings and also purification,5 is that type of spending which the Qur’an deems mandatory on all Muslims who possess surplus financial means at their disposal. The payment of zakat is, therefore, a way by which a Muslim’s wealth may be made pure and sacred - so long as, of course, one seeks the Divine pleasure by it: He who gives his wealth to purify himself, not in return for any favour done to him, seeking only the Countenance of his Lord, Most High. He will be well-pleased. [92:18-21]

Zakat as Spiritual & Social Technology

It is not just one’s wealth that is purified through the act of paying zakat, but also one’s self. For the nafs, or ego, is purified from the blemish of greed and selfishness when giving freely of one’s wealth: And whoever is saved from his own avarice will surely succeed. [59:9]

With its spiritual significance affirmed, one cannot overlook zakat’s all important social function. Islam’s vision of society is rooted in the idea of compassion, service and responsibility; and no where is this better seen than in the giving and dispensing of zakat. For zakat is to be utilised, first and foremost, for the poor and the needy, so as to alleviate the problem of poverty. In other words, the “haves”of the society are to help lift the burden of the “have nots” in the spirit of service and brotherhood. In summing-up the spiritual and social virtues of zakat, Shah Wali Allah wrote: “Know that there are two purposes behind zakat: a purpose linked to disciplining the soul; this due to the presence of avarice in it ... And a purpose associated with the city, for it will certainly include those who are poor and needy.”6

Shouldn’t Charity Begin at Home?

Zakat is, strictures the Qur’an, only for the poor and the needy, and those who collect it, and for those whose hearts are to be reconciled, and for the ransom of captives, and the debtors, and in the path of God, and the wayfarers. This is an obligation from God, and God is All-Knowing, All-Wise. [9:60] Juristic details aside, the main forms of wealth on which zakat is levied includes gold and silver, livestock, agricultural produce, minerals, stocks and shares, currency and other liquid assets. A percentage of this wealth (two and a half percent in the case of gold and silver, stocks and share, and all wealth held in monetry form) is to be disbursed to the eight sectors, or catagories, mentioned in the above verse.7

In a foundational hadith on the topic we read that the Prophet, peace be upon him, when sending Mu’adh to Yemen, instructed him: “O Mu’adh, you are going to a community who are of the People of the Book, so first invite them to bear witness that none deserves worship save God, and that Muhammad is God’s Messenger. If they accept this, then inform them that God enjoins upon them five prayers in a day and a night. If they accept this, then inform them that God obligates charity [i.e. zakat] upon them; to be taken from their rich and given to their poor.”8

Based on the words: “to be taken from their rich and given to their poor,” jurists from the four Sunni schools of law, or madhhabs, say that zakat, as a rule of thumb, should be distributed locally in the region or area and not be transferred abroad. The Hanbali school stipulates: “It is preferred to disburse all of the zakat to the poor of his area. It is not permitted to transfer it to [a location] where prayer is to be shortened [if one traveled to it] - though if one does so it suffices - unless there are no poor persons in the land, in which case he is to distribute it in the land closest to him.”9 The Shafi’i madhhab states: “If the [eight] catagories are found in the place where zakat is collected, it is prohibitted and invalid to transfer the zakat elsewhere - except if it is being distributed by the head of state, in which case he may transfer it to another place.”10 The Malikis hold that transfering zakat is impermissible, except if there is a pressing need to do so.11 The Hanafi school is more concillatory on the issue. It states that, “It is disapproved to transfer the zakat of one land to another; unless he transfers it to his poor relatives, or to a people needier than his own.”12 This, incidentally, is also the preferred view of Ibn Taymiyyah. What all this tells us is that, in general, the poor of a city have greater claim over local zakat than the pooror needy elsewhere: accepting that some scholars permit sending it abroad for familial or pressing reasons.

Who Needs My Zakat Here Anyway?

“There are no poor Muslims in Britain,” is a common response to the suggestion that zakat should be disbursed here in the country. But is this true? No poor Muslims? Even if it were, what of the other catagories of zakat recipients; are they absent from Britain too? The reality is markedly different from the populist Muslim perception. There are many poor and needy Muslim households in Britain, exarcebated by growing levels of immigration into the U.K.; many of whom are Muslims seeking work, refuge or political asylum. Then there is the catagory of the mu’allafat al-qulub - “those whose hearts are to be reconciled.” This includes those recent converts to Islam who are alienated from their family, or people whose faith needs strengthening in general. Some jurists have included in this non-Muslims whose hearts can be softened to Islam, or who are willing to assist an Islamic cause but need to be compensated. There is also the catagory of the gharimun: those burdened with debts contracted in good faith, through no fault of their own, which they subsequently cannot redeem. As for the catagory of fi sabili’Llah, “for the path of God,” in our country this would include support for students occupied in learning the shari‘ah sciences. With the above in mind, it would seem that while we concern ourselves with the plight of others across the globe, there continues to be some serious dereliction of duty here at home.

Having Vision

Having a social conscience with regards to the plight of Britain’s Muslim communities is in no way to ignore the poverty and starvation which afflicts millions of Muslims in other parts of the globe. British Muslims will have to learn to discharge their obligations to both, in light of the priority determined by the Sacred Law. It could be argued that, by putting our own house in order first, it would, in all probability, help us to better help others in the long run. Whatever the case be, we need to rethink the issue of how best to deploy our zakat; of how best to help restore dignity to the needy and the impoverished.

SURKHEEL (ABU AALIYAH) SHARIF

Notes
1. Ibn Kathir, Tafsir Qur’an al-‘Adhim (Beirut: Dar al-Ma‘rifah, 1987), 1:45.
2. Al-Tirmidhi, Sunan, no.2053, where he said: “The hadith is hasan sahih.”
3. Muslim, Sahih, no.147.
4. Jami‘ al-‘Ulum wa’l-Hikam (Beirut: Mu’assasah al-Risalah, 1998), 1:454.
5. As per al-Raghib, Mufradat Alfaz al-Qur’an (Damascus: Dar al-Qalam, 2002), 380-81.
6. Hujjatu’Llah al-Balighah (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyyah, 2001), 2:69-70.
7. The fiqh details that make a person liable for paying zakat, and to whom and how such monies should be disbursed, are issues for which the lay people must consult a qualified scholar.
8. Al-Bukhari, Sahih, no.1496.
9. Al-Hajjawi, Zad al-Mustaqni‘ (Riyadh: Madar al-Watn li’l-Nashr, 2004), 78.
10. Ibn Naqib, Reliance of the Traveller (trans. N.H. Keller, Maryland: Amana Publications, 1994), 272-3.
11. Cited in al-Bassam, Tawdih al-Ahkam min Bulugh al-Maram (Makkah: Maktabah al-Nahdah al-Hadithah, 1994), 3:27.
12. Al-Zayla’i, Nasab al-Rayah (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-’Ilmiyyah, 2002), 2:423.

The Immortal “If”

Mon, 31 Dec 2007 08:15:39 +0000

Good poetry is, in a sense, timeless and immortal. This is not only because it is read by generation after generation of readers, but also because poems - unlike novels, essays or articles - tend to be felt, experienced, absorbed; and not just read for the sake of reading and finishing. A poem can, in the words of Robert Frost, deliver to the sensitive reader “an immortal wound” that one may never quite get over.

Rudyard Kipling’s poem, simply entitled If, ranks among the most popular pieces of poetry in Britain and enjoys widespread recognition. Written in 1895, and first published in 1910, the poem speaks of virtue, stoicism and personal integrity; and encapsulates profound mottos and maxims for life. Muslims, as with peoples of other faiths, will be quick to point out how these maxims and ideals closely contour their own faith teachings. In fact, the Victorian ethics If evokes has much in common with the conservative ethos that tempers Islam’s moral code: its moderation and modesty; its stoicism; its insistance on a certain sense of reserve; and its insistance on common sense and pragmatism.

Much has been written about Kipling’s attitude towards imperialism and the apparent racism found in his prose and poetry: was Kipling merely critiquing racist attitudes or exhibiting them himself? That aside, no such controversy exists about the didactic, or instructional If. In our times, it is regarded as a popular classic of English literature; lines from the poem even appear over the player’s entrance to the center court at Wimbledon - a poignant reflection of its abiding inspiration.

As traditional canons of beauty and behaviour give way to a culture of crass consumption, shallowness and mediocrity, the poem distills to us the loftier human virtues. The poem presupposes that true manhood (or womanhood, for that matter) is rooted, not in material advancement, but in moral behaviour and ethical living. So, with these few introductory passages, there is little else left to be said except read, enjoy, be inspired, and suffer the immortal wound that is If:

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master, If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much, If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

SURKHEEL (ABU AALIYAH) SHARIF

British Muslims & their Leadership

Fri, 30 Nov 2007 11:34:35 +0000

John Donne, the seventeenth-century English poet and preacher, wrote in his Meditations: “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.” In these lines, Donne expresses a notion more apparent to us today in our globalised world than in the Jacobean age in which they were actualy penned: our interconnectedness with others. This, in turn, goes to highlight a quality so quintessential to human nature: our need and our interdependency on others. One of the most famous descriptions about Man describes him as a ‘social animal’. That is to say, it is part of his nature to form groups and communities and to live in a social set-up or society.

Man: the Social Creature
In classical Arabic, the notion of Man as a social creature is etched into the very word for man, insan, which - according to one of the two lexical views - has its root in the word, anisa: to be friendly, sociable, genial. Raghib al-Asbahani, one of the premiere classical Arabic lexicalists, says of its etymology: “It is said that he is called this because he was created with a nature to not be able to establish his affairs save by being sociable with others. This is why it is said that man is civil, or social, by nature (al-insan madani bi’l-tab‘).”1

Ibn Taymiyyah, another medieval jurist, addresses the sociological phenomena of man, spot-lighting: “The welfare of people can never be perfected, not in this life nor in the next, save with society; mutual aid; and mutual co-operation, so as to procure benefit and ward off harm. This is why man is said to be social by nature. So when men group together there must be things they must undertake so as to procure their welfare, and things they must avoid because of the harms they entail. They will, therefore, obey someone who commands these [desired] objectives and proscribes the harmful ... Thus the Prophet, peace be upon him, ordered his nation to appoint authorities over themselves, and to instruct these authorities to render back things held in trust to their rightful owners and that when they judge between people, they judge justly.2 He ordered them to obey those in authority as part of obedience to God, Exalted is He.”3

He then cites the following prophetic saying: “When three people go out on a journey, let one of them be put in charge.”4 And also: “It is unlawful for three men to be in a desert area without having one of them be put in command.”5
He then concludes: “Now since the smallest of groups and the most limited of societies are obliged to put someone in overall authority, the same must apply when greater numbers are involved.”6

British Muslim Leadership
The implications of this religious and rational imperative for Muslims in Britain (equally applicable to Muslims in America and Europe) will not be lost on the reader. The question of who can best represent the diverse communities of Muslims living here in Britain is one that stokes fierce debate and controversy. Regretably, it has also given rise to a plethora of inter-Muslim invectives. Yet amidst this quagmire of contention a consensus seems to be emerging about what type of leadership British Muslims wish to see representing their hopes, aspirations and interests.

This leadership must be one that understands Britain and its society: its history, institutions, culture and collective identity. Moreover, such leadership must be, as far as possible, local; indigenous; British born and bred, such that it is part and parcel of the social fabric, and so that society at large may better relate to it. More importantly, if leadership is indigenous there is often a deeper sense of commitment that may not otherwise emerge if the engagement is borne simply out of a sense of ‘duty’.

The leadership should not only work for the welfare of Muslim communities,7 it must, of necessity, work for the welfare of society in general. “None of you [truly] believes,” informs a famous hadith, “until he loves for his brother what he loves for himself.”8 No less that Imam al-Nawawi explained, “It is preferred to understand this as a general brotherhood so that it includes the non-Muslim and Muslim alike.”9

Such an outlook accords with the Qur’an and its dual address: “O you who believe - ya ayyuhal-ladhina amanu, and: “O humanity - ya ayyuha’l-nas.” Shaykh Bin Bayyah, a distinguished jurist of the contemporary age, explained to an American Muslim audience how: “We have to maintain those things that are particular to us as a community, but we must also recognize that there are other things that are not particular to us, but instead are general to the human condition that we can partake in [...] We have to maintain our roots. We have deep roots in our faith, but at the same time we have to be open.”10

The leadership must focus on domestic responsibilities and obligations and not allow them to be overshadowed by foreign agendas peripheral (or irrelevant) to the British Muslim context or priorities. Yet at the same time, since it is part of a transnational ummah, it cannot be indifferent to matters of global Muslim concern. Most certainly, leadership of British Muslims should in no way be under the ‘patronage’ of foreign governments or their funds; or even foreign Islamic movements.

This raises the rather complex question about the relation of such leadership to government. Should it remain aloof from government, with the likelihood of being politically marginalised? Should it take on the semblance of a grassroots, activist-like movement? Or should it seek to gain government’s ear? One thing is certain, which is that any leadership perceived as being ‘fed’ by government, or too pally pally with it, stands in danger of alienating itself from the Muslim masses and exposing itself to the charge of being a sort of “house Negro” - to borrow Malcolm X’s phrase. Then there is the concern of government’s friendly embrace which can so easily morph into a rib-crushing bear hug! Whatever be the case, it does not behove a believer to be a mere armchair critic. An ancient Arabic proverb recalls: “Either lessen your criticism or fill in the gap.” Either something better than what currently exists be brought to the table, or else working to improve existing institutions of leadership becomes the obligation. Beyond that, supplication and silence is the approach required if we are to steer clear of acting like rabble-rousers or sowers of schism and sedition.

Imam al-Sa‘di stated towards the end of the first half of the twentieth century: “[T]his endevour to unify the Muslims and this appeal to effect reconciliation between them is the best of deeds. It is, in this age, better than being engaged in [optional] fasting or prayer. It is also from the greatest and most important forms of jihad in God’s path.”11 Furthermore: “Muslims are required to not let differences between them in regard to their various schools of thought, or in [issues of] leadership, politics or personal interests, become an obstacle against them actualising religious brotherhood and unity. Instead, they should make all such differences and partial interests subordinate to this great principle.”12

Any leadership of the British Muslim communities must, if it wishes to remain true to the essence of the faith, provide sound ethical and spiritual leadership; the least of which is that it should keep at bay the tendency to exploit each and every religious issue in order for it to gain political mileage.

How it engages as well as articulates the anger, frustration and alienation that presently characterises a large swathe of Britain’s young Muslims will be a key factor in determining just how genuinely representative such leadership is of the nation’s one and a half plus million Muslims. Above all, British Muslim leadership must set-out a clear vision for Islam in our contemporary society: a vision, to quote Abdal-Hakim Murad, that must be “rooted in immediate and sincere concern for human welfare under a compassionate God”13

SURKHEEL (ABU AALIYAH) SHARIF

Notes
1. Mufradat Alfaz al-Qur’an (Damascus: Dar al-Qalam, 2002), p.94; under the entry of ins. Interestingly, the Qur’an has it [12:109]: We only sent before you men to whom We reveal, of the people of the cities.
2. Cf. Qur’an 4:58.
3. Majmu’ al-Fatawa (Riyadh: Dar ’Alam al-Kutub, 1991), vol.28, p.62.
4. Abu Dawud, Sunan, no.2607.
5. Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, no.13375.
6. Majmu’ al-Fatawa, vol.28, p.65.
7. It is more accurate to speak about British Muslim communities than about a single, monolithic ‘community’. Currently, Britain’s Muslims are made-up of 56 nationalities, speaking 70 languages, and are spread over 1,200 mosques.
8. Al-Bukhari, Sahih, no.13.
9. Sharh Arba’in al-Nawawiyyah (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-’Ilmiyyah, 2001), p.59.
10. Cited in T.J. Winter, British Muslim Identity: Past, Problems, Prospects (Cambridge: The Muslim Academic Trust, 2003), p.15.
11. Al-Siyasat al-Shar’iyyah (London: Dar al-Ifta Office, 1990), p.8.
12. ibid., p.13.
13. The Fall of the Family (Part I), at www.masud.co.uk