Recently, Deborah wrote on article on Sakina Design in which she quoted Miles Young, Global CEO of Ogilvy & Mather Worldwide who I had the distinct pleasure of hearing lecture at the 2010 American Muslim Consumer Conference. She quoted one of his most important thoughts from the lecture:
Islam is not strongly enough associated, in this country, with design: with graphic design, with the arts, with fashion or creative design. And in this sense it differs from the minority Muslim communities in Europe and certainly from the majority Muslim communities. And let me tell you, art and design diffuse fear. They normalize, they soften...
Islamic imagery tends to fall into very few categories: crescents, stars, Arabic calligraphy, the hamsa, and swords, to give some primary examples. The idea that Islam was spread by the literal sword far more than the metaphorical one (i.e., the sword of truth) has been pretty well investigated and debunked repeatedly (agree, disagree, agree), but the strength of that idea and the iconic images of the sword die hard. (Some of it is propagated by Muslims, since it helps bolster the ego.) The problem is that it feeds the fantasies of Islamophobes, and helps justify their ideas that Islam and Muslims have always been and continue to be bloodthirsty and violent. We are our own worst enemies in this regard. Here is perhaps the most egregious example I've seen in the recent past:
This tie was created in November 2010 by Iranian designer Hemat Komeili. Iran has generally disapproved of Western-style neckties since the 1979 revolution. Allegedly in the early days of the revolution, men with ties were detailed and their ties were cut off. (I should emphasize these are rumours I've heard but haven't been able to confirm.) Komeili, sensing a deep sartorial gap, went to Islamic history and modeled the tie after Imam Ali's famous scimitar, Zulfikar ("bifurcated"). Komeili says that his tie has been approved by some of the "sources of emulation" (probably sounds better in Persian). He says it appears beautiful like a tie, in addition to being based on Islamic values. The inscription is based on a hadith of Prophet Muhammad, "There is no hero but Ali and no sword except Zulfiqar," after Ali's use of the sword to defeat a tremendous warrior during the Battle of the Trench.
It's a powerful historical symbol that means a lot to some Muslims, and in particular Shi'a Muslims (since it was Ali's sword). But if dawah through neckwear is your thing, check out these ties from Zazzle. They look good. (I rather like a few of them, like the Alhambra Elegance.) And you're not wearing a friggin' sword around your neck! Could you really wear this to any interview other than one for an Iranian government position? I'm not picking on Islam here. I'm picking on design that makes the wearer look…questionable. There are similar examples that aren't Islamic (e.g. this or this).
Perhaps the most famous visual association of the sword with Islam is on the flag of Saudi Arabia. Now I realize I'm treading on dangerous ground here, not qualifying my statements with history and context. My point is simple: sensibilities and understandings change as history unfolds and we encounter each other in all our diversity. Most people won't take the time to learn your context – they will only ever see it in theirs. Perception is all that matters. Moving people away from the idea of all Muslims being frothing-at-the-mouth nutjobs, and toward the realistic understanding that of the 1.57 billion Muslims in the world, only a tiny fraction is barking mad, requires (among things) a significant exercise of rebranding through design. It might not be the single most important thing, but it's not as trivial as some might think. That was Miles Young's point: art and design aren't negligible. They are critical elements of communicating with others. (It's one of the reasons we are selling T-shirts rather than handing out pamphlets expounding our philosufi.)
Drop the swords, yelling, and screaming. Change comes from within. Enough with the swords. Even taking into account the strongly aniconic elements of Islam, our tradition has such a mindblowing history of art and design – I mean seriously, when you see some of the simply stunning examples of Islamic calligraphy or Islamic architecture, is a sword really the best we can do? Really?
Islam is not strongly enough associated, in this country, with design: with graphic design, with the arts, with fashion or creative design. And in this sense it differs from the minority Muslim communities in Europe and certainly from the majority Muslim communities. And let me tell you, art and design diffuse fear. They normalize, they soften...
We couldn’t agree more. So I want to tell you about an American company that is working to correct this tendency, taking a fresh approach to design and decor for the Muslim market.
Sakina Design is a California-based family-owned company producing stylish and appealing decor and gifts for Muslims with a modern, North American sensibility. Sakina Design’s website describes their approach to business:
The approach that guides Sakina Design is summarized by the word ihsan. Ihsan is the Islamic concept of perfection and excellence. The Qur'an teaches that inner faith should be reflected in deeds and actions, and that social responsibility is another manifestation of this faith.
Therefore, our approach centers on providing customers with excellent products that adhere to Islamic values and principles. We ensure that the materials that go into our products are top quality, and we make every effort to minimize harm to the environment. We use recycled and recyclable materials, and give back to the community by donating a portion of our sales to charity. Please see our Sakina Green page for additional information about our commitment to the environment.
I somehow stumbled across the company last summer, while I was in the throes of preparing for a number of family weddings, including Neman’s sister’s. As soon as I saw Sakina’s pieces of wall art, inspired by classical Islamic art and calligraphy, I knew they would make a perfect wedding gift for his sister and her husband-to-be. His sister has travelled through Turkey and Spain, among many other places, and I knew she loves Turkish art—she was incorporating Turkish tile imagery into her wedding décor—and loved the Alhambra. So I ordered the Iznik and Alhambra wall decor pieces immediately. Jontie of Sakina Design was incredibly helpful. The Alhambra piece was not in stock at the time I wanted it—Jontie said it’s been their most popular pattern—but a production run was about to take place, and he asked his producer make some Alhambra pieces first. While I was at it, I ordered one of each of the greeting cards, too.
Everything arrived very quickly and in perfect condition—I had been worried that the pieces, which are glass, could arrive broken. But everything was packed perfectly and there were no problems. Shipping was incredibly cheap—$10 USD if I recall correctly—but I should warn other Canadian customers: the duty and taxes were somewhat gobsmacking. So you will want to budget for our government’s pound of flesh. But it was worth it. Everything was absolutely beautiful—I wanted to keep the gifts for ourselves! Every piece was attractive, well-made, and good quality. The wall art works in both traditional and contemporary interiors. The square shape and manageable size of the wall art pieces contributes to their versatility in interiors (see Sakina Design's Decorating Tips page for several photos of how they can be combined and displayed).
I was glad I’d ordered some of the greeting cards; they are even finer than they look on the website. You may not be able to tell from some of the images, but the greeting card designs are not printed: they’re laser-cut overlays on coloured paper. They come with several inserts for the covers, both pre-printed (in English on one side and Arabic on the other), as well as some blank ones so you can inscribe your own greeting or salutation. And Jontie had generously included several Sakina bookmarks, which are as nicely made as everything else, and are currently gracing various books in progress.
If you are searching for unique and tasteful items to give as gifts or keep for yourself, I strongly recommend Sakina Design’s products. I am looking forward to ordering some wall art for our own home when we have the funds (maybe as a graduation gift to myself). In the meantime, I will enjoy seeing it at my sister-in-law’s place, and I look forward to each new item from this company.
Comedy has this way of getting you to drop your guard. Satire is particularly strong at telling the truth behind a story. No one does comedy and satire quite like the British, who coincidentally, have experienced decades of terrorism and internal strife. So who better to create Four Lions, a cheery, sneery, adoring, and loathing film about five idiotic but deadly earnest Muslim suicide bombers from Sheffield? Omar (the ringleader), Waj (strong and smart as an ox), Barry (the zealous and fiery "revert"), Faisal (the pathetic redshirt), and Hassan (the rapping joker playing a game that became real) are five men who have every intention of carrying out this murderous act, to wound the (perceived) enemies of Islam and radicalize the moderate Muslims to rise up against the West. Think Manuel from Fawlty Towers meets 24 and you're in firing range of Four Lions.
Waj and his tiny AK-47. "Proper replica!"
We enter into the film in the final days of their plot, as they attempt to make their jihadi videos, and two of them (Omar and Waj) get called to a training camp in Pakistan. After screwing up big time (pay attention to the end credits!), Omar and Waj are kicked out and returned to the UK. The crew must recalibrate and create their own deadly plan – suicide bombing the London Marathon.
As a comedy, the film is funny and extremely absurd – straight up, we both laughed at pretty much everything, and some of the stuff was note-perfect. (Watch the deleted scenes for more memorable lines.) Sure, the characters were more stereotype than archetype, but that's pretty forgivable for this film. It's a meditation on idiocy, not a character study. It was an entry at Sundance in January 2010, had a very small release in British theatres in May (initially only 115 screens, upped to 200, but still pulled in £3M), and only recently came to North America in November 2010. It's received loads of critical attention and acclaim (including 81% fresh at Rotten Tomatoes), but made strangely little noise here. It's being distributed in the US by Drafthouse Films (you can find out where it's playing now, and where it will be playing, on the main page of that site). One thing's for sure – this is a British film. There's no way a comedy like this could be made in America, and maybe that's one of the reasons it just hasn't made much of a splash – the sensitivities and sensibilities are just different. ["Plus the accents, idioms, and slang are pretty challenging, I think, to most North American ears. Thank God for subtitles. I had to watch it a second time with the subtitles on to catch all the dialogue and jokes. Even without the difficult subject matter, films like this are a hard sell in America." -- Deborah.]
One quick side note about our different sensibilities – where North Americans like to praise and defend freedom of speech when it meets our needs (see our article on Medal of Honor), note the comments of the sister of a woman who died in the 7/7 London suicide bombings who says, "I feel just because for me it's personally a sensitive subject that it's not something that shouldn't be tackled. It should be tackled and maybe this will provide a platform for some honest and upfront discussion." In the same article, a Muslim youth worker points out "[t]he moral of the story is that the Muslims are not the terrorists, it's the idiots that are the terrorists." and "[i]f Muslims get offended by terrorists having the mickey taken out of them, it just means they're attached to and they believe in that terrorism, so I don't think any Muslim should be offended by that."
As a statement against terrorism, Four Lions is not your average American "terrorists are bad" film. While four of the five suicide bombers are almost completely comic and two-dimensional, the de facto leader Omar manages to get in a full life, with a loving wife (Sofia), pre-teen son (Mahmood), and a deeply religiously observant brother (Ahmed). The film is filled with things we discussed late into the night, and Omar's relationship with his family was one of them. His family members all know about his plot; Sofia and Mahmood are loving and encouraging, and Ahmed is the only one making any effort to talk him out of it. The way Omar is lovingly encouraged to carry out his murderous plot by happy Sofia and the adoring (and adorable) Mahmood, the way they playfully banter and the Lion King-based stories Omar tells Mahmood about their plans all defy our stereotypical understanding of the terrorist as scary, isolated wack job.
Sofia is cast as modern, liberated, and not at all under Omar's thumb. She laughs, and defends her husband and herself with a squirt gun when his brother comes to talk him out of his plan. Later in the film, after an accident that leaves one of the group dead, Omar temporarily suspends the plan. Discussing it that night with Sofia, his sadness is evident; she says half-jokingly, "you were much more fun when you were gonna blow yourself up, love." Let's face it – some of these people have supportive families, and that might be the scariest part. If you truly believe that dying to defend the cause results in going to heaven as a martyr, then death should be a happy event. ["I am still struggling to make sense of Omar's family and their relationship to each other, and what director Morris was trying for here. If Omar is so worried about one of his wanna-be mujahideen cronies blowing their cover (justifiably so--they're all morons), why is he casually sharing his plans for a suicide mission with his young son? Children aren't typically known for their discretion. And it's not like he's terrorized his wife and child into silent obedience. In every respect save for the suicide mission, they have a normal, loving, warm, conventional, comfortable existence. Nothing about Sofia suggests that she holds radical ideology. I agree that those who believe in suicide martyrdom probably do welcome death as some sort of joyous achievement, but nothing in the portrayal of Sofia and Mahmood suggests they share these beliefs. I really am not sure what is going on here, and it was by far the most problematic part of the film for me." -- Deborah.]
Omar and Sofia have a laugh at Ahmed's expense
My favourite part of the idiocy and delusions is when the egomaniacal and power-hungry Barry (who adopts the nom de Islam "Azzam Al-Britani" but can't get anyone to call him that) can justify any target or action by twisting all rationality into a pretzel and the weakest-minded cell members (i.e., everyone but Omar) all follow what he has to say--from bombing a mosque to "pushing a baked bean up the end of [their] knob[s]"--to demonstrate submission and dedication.
We had difficulty with the lack of justification presented for their terrorism. Yes, they're angry, yes there's a war in Iraq, in Afghanistan, oppression in Palestine, but most well-adjusted, comfortable people don't decide on suicide bombings. Maybe terrorist anger is the same as Tea Party anger – just anger, and the only perceived solution for their anger is escalating conflict and violence, because anything else would require communication, maturity, insight, sympathy, and empathy. ["Sorry, bro, that all smacks of effort." -- Deborah.] In other words, it's easier to punch someone than talk to them, and it's really easy to believe that someone else is the cause of all your problems. ["As director Chris Morris has said, 'Terrorism is about ideology but it’s also about doofuses.' This film is very heavy on exploring the 'doofus' part, and much lighter on the ideology part--although part of the commentary is definitely that their ideology, such as it is, is informed mainly by unfocused rage, piss-poor analysis and extremely confused politics." -- Deborah.]
Very few characters in the film aren't idiots, but every character is played 100% straight, even the spacey neighbour whom Hassan cluelessly invites into the secret flat and then might become a target for straight-up murder. Omar's brother Ahmed, who fails to talk Omar out of his plans, may have a solid intention, but he too is played for a fool because of his highly conservative tendencies. Even a co-worker of Omar's who runs marathons, and defends him in the end out of loyalty, goes on about talking to his legs. The best portrayal of idiocy, though, has got to be the police snipers at the London Marathon. Brilliant not only in their stupidity, but in their unwillingness to acknowledge the reality of what they've just done. ["Something that I think has been overlooked because of the controversies that overshadow this film is that Four Lions is actually quite an interesting exploration of male interaction--how men work together (or don't), how they relate under pressure, how they struggle for power, and so forth. There are only a couple of female characters in the film and other than Sofia, their roles are almost negligible. The focus is entirely on men's interactions and relations." -- Deborah.]
Here's the official trailer. (Click here to watch it on YouTube.)
See this movie if you can (and then come back here and comment on it -- we'd love to talk about it with more people). Four Lions is ultimately much bleaker than the trailer suggests, and one of the most uncomfortable comedies we've seen.
Salaams! We are taking a two-week holiday from the blog. We'll be back on Tuesday, January 4 with new stories and posts. However, we'll still be around to answer e-mail and monitor the blog (so don't get any ideas, stupid shoe spammers). If something amazing comes up, we'll push it out on Twitter and our Facebook page. (If you haven't Twitter-followed/Facebook-liked Philosufi, now's as good a time as any to do so.)
In the meantime, we've put our T-shirts on sale until we come back. ONLY $14!! Save five bucks!! No discount code needed; just go straight to the PrintMojo store and order up. Tell all your friends, too!
Christmas mubarak and happy halal-idays to one and all! May this be a season of peace for everyone, and may 2011 be a better year overall...insha'Allah.
As we mentioned recently on our Facebook page, we have been going through a difficult time. From just before Eid-ul-Adha (one month ag0) until now (Ashura), there have been something like nine deaths (it's so many I'm losing track) in Neman's extended family, including his aunt and uncle who were the matriarch and patriarch of the clan (and had been married for 66 years). Most of those who have died have been ill and/or quite elderly, but this string of tragedy included the utterly shocking news that Neman's teenage cousin in Germany suddenly collapsed and died on her way into school one morning. No one knows why. Her grandmother died later the same day, in India.
In the last few days, friends of ours have also lost loved ones, both quite suddenly. It's gotten so that I don't want to answer the phone anymore, or read e-mail, or hear any news from anyone, because it always seems to be bad. In fact, the news of the ninth death came while I was writing this post.
Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un. To God we belong and to God we return.
Now it's Ashura, and in addition to grieving all these losses, we are mindful that our Shi'a friends are grieving and commemorating the martyrdom of Hussein ibn Ali at Karbala. (Some Sunnis also fast on this day, for other reasons which you can read about on that Ashura link.) Many Shi'as observe this occasion with dramatic displays of grief, including matam (chest-beating) and tatbir (self-flagellation/self-mortification), and the news is typically full of graphic, bloody images from these commemorations. ("If it bleeds, it leads...") It is a time, for many, of lamentation and laceration (of both body and spirit). And just speaking for myself personally, I think it should be a time for all Muslims to reflect on the sectarian hostility and violence that characterizes too much of our tradition, and the pain of our division as a community.
In researching Ashura a little, I found an interesting blog entry from a few years ago, covering an Ashura procession on Park Avenue in New York City. The author provides what he calls a "ludicrously short primer" on the Sunni/Shi'a split and Ashura, along with photos of the Ashura procession. Is this done every year in NYC? Or was it a one-off? If you know more, please post in the comments. Either way, it's intriguing to see how this event was carried out in North America.
I also discovered that in recent years there have been calls from many quarters, including several prominent clerics, to channel the powerful impulse to spill one's own blood in observation of what happened at Karbala into the practice of blood donation. One's losses can be transmuted, literally, into others' salvation. For example, in the UK, the Islamic Unity Society is urging Shi'as to give blood. Founder Dr. Marwan Al-Dawoud says:
"If people want to self-flagellate, it's up to them," he said.
"What we're saying is that this is a time when we feel that Imam Hussein gave something of himself.
"Use that message and give blood because it's something that is good for society.
"It's saving life at the end of the day and there is no greater gift from God."
Similar campaigns have happened or are underway in places like Turkey, Azerbaijan, Afghanistan, Bahrain, Pakistan, and, I'm sure, other places. While the religious studies scholar in me totally gets and appreciates the ritual of tatbir, I think there's also something to be said for the meaningful redevelopment of religious practice, too. There's a place for both rituals. And for those of us--whether Shi'a, Sunni, another Muslim sect, or perhaps not even Muslim--who'd like to commemorate Ashura without tatbir, blood donation is a worthwhile option. What's not to like about having a choice?
Those of you who know me also know that I don't care much for being told what to do, what I can watch, and so forth. (Boy, did I sign up for the right religion!) If I were a parent though, I'd want to judge the suitability of video games, movies, and other inputs for my kids. After all, I'd prefer they grow up in accordance with values I hold dear. And until kids have developed good critical thinking faculties, it's part of the responsibility of any parent to shepherd them along. (There are some notable failures in this regard.)
Kids play video games probably just as much as (more than?) they consume any other type of entertainment, but they're qualitatively different due to the activity and interactivity. You are exposed to information (books, TV, and movies do that), often work in teams (like sports or boardgames), and have to solve puzzles (MasterMind was always one of my faves). Video games do all that and way more. The games parents tend to be worried about are fast-paced, and often involve war, crime, and other types of violence, sexual themes, and so forth. The level of first-person involvement in the games means the player is immersed in a manner unequalled by most movies, books, and even some sports.
In short, most exciting video games are antithetical to the desires of many Muslim parents. So what's a parent to do when looking for entertaining and engaging video games? It's not like it's practical to pre-screen all of them yourself.
For one possible answer, let's turn to the Iranian government. (Never thought I'd say that…) Enter the IRAN National Foundation of Computer Game [sic], aka the IRCG. In 2007, IRCG established a self-regulating body known as the Entertainment Software Rating Association (ESRA). ESRA is run by Dr. Behrouz Minaei, Managing Director at Iran National Foundation of Computer Game, and includes a research team of 17 psychologists and 8 sociologists. ESRA rates both domestic and foreign video games according to physical, intellectual, emotional, and social characteristics. The games are assigned age-appropriate buckets: Very young kids (3), early childhood (7), early adolescence (12), late adolescence (15), single adult (18), and married adult (25). (There appear to be no provisions for divorced adults.)
Once the games are assessed for the basic four characteristics and bucketed into age groups, they are also assigned content descriptions (complete source):
Violence : The display of violence is when a behavior displayed to harm someone or something, ranged from destroying the belongings and making the unanimated things out of order…
Tobacco and drug : Watching the use of drug and tobacco in games can lose the internal-social taboo of not using it for the addressees.
Sexual stimuli : Sexual diversity, sexuality out of social norms, etc can end to the social and physical harms related to the sexual needs of the addressees and his /her social situations.
Fear : Fear is an internal feeling based on insecurity and not the lack of trust to the atmosphere, which leads to chronic stress, conservative behaviors, etc in social atmosphere.
Religious values violation : The violation of religious values is in accord with the Islamic principles. Two of the important elements of it are as follow:
The violation of the basic principles or religious believes (the howness of the display of the heaven or hell),
Sacrilege the holy places (sacrilege the mosque, church)
The social norms violation : Using the vulgar words and the uprightness behaviors which lead to breaking the social norms are among the social harms that the kids and the adolescents become familiar with.
Hopelessness : This content in games is related to a kind of feeling where the gamer have to do or not to do something which makes him/her feel sinful..
Sure, the definition for violence is bordering on Engrish, and most of the rest are pretty much as expected (Sexual diversity? Fear? Iran's government is worried about conservative behaviour?). What really caught my eye though, was the inclusion of what's been termed "hopelessness." I really wonder whether any other video game rating system takes into account the emotional impact of being forced to make a choice that no matter what the outcome, will make the gamer feel sinful. Wow. That's some serious insight that's worth paying attention to.
Dr. Minaei said last week at the Dubai World Game Expo "the rating system is designed based on the culture, society and the special values of Islam" and with recognition that Islamic societies are generally considered conservative. Ahh… yup. Should be interesting to see what games make it to the international computer game festival they're planning for Tehran in 2011. Not much detail yet.
On the site, domestic games have a screen cap and short description, but I wasn't able to easily find their ESRA rating. That struck me as odd. Foreign games on the other hand, are listed in a manner I can't understand with clearly displayed ESRA ratings. No descriptions though; too bad, since they would be pretty useful. I really can't tell what kind of games "Stranger" or "Prototype" are, and it might be harder for Iranian parents to do meaningful research. Helpfully, the foreign games listing also tells you whether a game is accepted, being evaluated, forbidden, or prohibited (not sure what the difference is between the last two).
There's no legal enforceability at this stage, but the ratings will probably make parents pretty happy, and game developers can use the ESRA system to ensure their products are tailored and marketed appropriately. It's harsh to spend all kinds of time and development money only to learn your product isn't acceptable to the target market. Hopefully it should be clear to the makers of Grand Theft Auto why their game won't be welcomed in Iran. Iran's video game industry is now in full gear. I wonder how many of them depict Grand Theft Democracy.
If you haven't heard about Khmer Muslim artist Anida Yoeu Ali, listen up. The Cambodian-born, Chicago-raised woman is an interdisciplinary artist; she describes herself as a "performance artist, writer, and global agitator." Ali's work explores issues related to identity, particularly hybridity and transnationality. She recently completed an MFA in Performance at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. As part of her work there, she put together a multi-faceted installation called The 1700% Project--the title of which refers to the post-September 11 increase in hate crimes against people perceived to be Arab or Muslim in the US.
The 1700% Project is collaborative, and consists of a poem, a video (below), audio recording, performances, and installation. In June, the video The 1700% Project: Mistaken for Muslim, which was directed, edited, and shot by Ali's husband Masahiro Sugano, won the $25,000 grand prize in the One Chicago, One Nation Online Video Contest. It also won the $5,000 prize in the music video/spoken word/animation category.
The whole project is a powerful statement against racial profiling of Muslims and the crimes of hate and violence that accompany the practice. In May 2010, when she was first mounting the installation, Ali's own art became the subject of a hate crime. She returned five days after painting the installation to find that the work itself had been the target of racist vandals. It had been defaced with large caricatures and a dialogue balloon emphasizing a particular part of her text: the phrase "Kill all Arabs." Here are images of the work before and after the defacement.
Ali wrote on the 1700% blog about the traumatic experience of discovering and trying to deal with the defacement: Articulating the Assault. Ali really had no choice but to alter her intended project to incorporate the experience of being targeted by racists; to try, as she puts it, to turn an act of defacement into an act of defiance:
My original performance was going to entail a scheduled performance of the text followed by a public staining of the walls. The point of the “1700% Project: Otherance” has always been to make what is seemingly invisible more visible. However, based on this recent incident, I am responding by modifying the performance to include a facilitated dialogue with faculty, students, the public and the communities to which these acts of hate and bias crimes address. The “1700% Project: Otherance” is a politically charged art installation that cannot be silenced and disrupted in this manner. During Saturday’s performance I am asking for the public to join me in the staining process — to transform the marks of vandalism and hate into acts of collective healing and reclamation. This is a call to action to respond as a community within and beyond the borders of SAIC. This is not just an assault on me as an artist, this is an attack on multiple communities to which the work speaks for.
Take note, racist fools: Ali is not someone you can screw with. She is a force to be reckoned with. She is fierce.
Don't miss her correspondence with the administrators of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, about their apathy and indifference. Very disappointing "response" on their part. How gratifying that she went on to win the grand prize in that video contest.
Ali has other great things to check out: her personal blog, Atomic Shogun, which she's been keeping for five years, and where you can find out about past performances and artworks; and the spoken word CDs, books, and anthologies she's created or contributed to, which you can buy here. (I love the cover for I Was Born with Two Tongues.) Whatever you do, be sure to watch this video. And then watch it again: it deserves (and rewards) multiple viewings. I've already watched it about seven times, and it holds up. (You can find the poem/text of the video here.) Can't wait to see what she does next.
For those of us raised and living in the Western European way of life, Islam has been framed as a religion of backward desert-dwellers riding camels, whose primary goals in life include ensuring the whole world becomes backward desert-dwellers riding camels. To these caricatures, the quest for knowledge and expansion of one's worldview is haram, and never throughout time had these 1,600,000,000 two-dimensional, anti-learning, angry people ever given any importance to the thoughts, advancement, and civilization afforded by science.
This is bovine poo of the highest order. And it stinks.
For hundreds of years, Islam brought cutting-edge advancements in virtually every area of life and understanding the natural world. Astronomy. Biodiversity. Biology. Botany. Chemistry. Geology. Geomorphology. Meteorology. Navigation. Optics. Physiology. Robotics. Timekeeping. Zoology. (And that's just science. SCIENCE!)
One of these days I'll write about why the quest for knowledge and expansion has been hijacked by religious fanatics and cast as some kind of evil deed. Religion in general is regularly accused of being one of the greatest impediments to progress and rational society. (Ibn al-Haitham is one of the developers of the scientific method, more than 200 years before Europeans learned about it by reading his books. Betcha they didn't teach you that in atheist Sunday school.) But my father was a scientist, as were and are many members of my extended family. I'm an engineer by training (and a trainer by engineering). Trust me, there are Muslim scientists, doctors, engineers, educators of all sorts – and for many of them, their faith gives them the push to discover the workings of the universe.
Luckily – and with a huge amount of work – there now exists the Museum of Science and Technology in Islam, aka MOSTI, sponsored by the King Abdullah University of Science and Technology (KAUST). MOSTI showcases the realms of study and knowledge in Islamic science using the idea of a Dar-ul-ilm or "House of Wisdom" for each major area, which parallels the basis of KAUST itself.
(Unluckily, while the museum is still in the starting stage, it's only open to KAUST's community and invited guests. But you can bet if I ever make it to Saudi Arabia, I'll be finagling my way into this one. I'm a science museum junkie. Ain't no rule stoppin' me, bub.)
MOSTI's dar-ul-ilms (yeah, that's not the plural, I know) are divided into nine clusters:
The clusters include interactive displays, and some pretty mind-blowing working scale models of clocks and ingenious devices that'll make your jaw drop. Stunningest stunner? A scale model of Al-Jazari's Elephant Water Clock in the Technology cluster. (Deborah and I actually saw this in the Ontario Science Centre's Sultans of Science exhibit a couple of years ago. You might just have the word "ingenious" redefined after you see this man's inventions in real life.)
There's a massive interactive timeline stretched across a table using multi-touch technology that looks pretty amazing. It shows an overview of Islamic science and technology from 650 to 1650, and some more recent things too.
The displays make a point of acknowledging the famous female Muslim scientists too – this isn't all about the boys. The "Meeting the Polymaths" display in the Learning Institutions cluster highlights some of the most studied and knowledgeable scientists and natural philosophers in Islamic history.
One last thought (even though there is so much more in the museum itself): No tour of Muslim contributions to the advancement of humanity would be complete until you examine astronomy, navigation, chemistry, and mathematics. The museum picks up on various outstanding examples of how Muslim scientists examined, catalogued, measured, and represented the world in various ways from drawings on paper to the most ingenious mechanisms around. Muslim robots? Yeah, hundreds of years ago. Check 'em out!
If you find yourself in Saudi Arabia, please take the time to get yourself on the guest list and explore the museum. There are also various Muslim science exhibits that travel through the world. See those, too. Explore, listen, read, and think critically – what is it that changed? The Golden Age of Islam was hundreds of years ago because that was a time during which scientific inquiry was seen as a powerful, motivating force within the ummah. We shouldn't fear knowledge – we should embrace it. It will help us understand the secrets and blessings that God has left for us in the universe, and strengthen our own belief.
Enjoy this 3-D fly-through of MOSTI (click here to play in a separate window)
A narrated tour of the major subject areas of the museum (click here to play in a separate window):
Unlike Miss USA Rima Fakih, we didn't take the crown in the "Best New Blog" category of this year's Brass Crescent Awards. That distinction went to 1000 Good Deeds. Mubarak and congratulations to them! But we did make first runner up/honourable mention. (Perhaps we should spell that the American way, "honorable mention.") Yay, us! We are pleased to have done that, with our relatively new blog.
Many thanks to those who voted for us and shared our page with others! We appreciate your continued support. Thanks also to Shahed Amanullah, Aziz Poonawalla, and all the judges for what must be quite a lot of work, year after year. If you haven't already, be sure to check out the winning blogs, and take a look at the others, too -- they're all worth your perusal.
Left: Starting off in Cape Town with some well-wishers; Right: Arriving in Mecca
Get on your bike and ride. It's something almost everyone has learned to do. For some people, the thrill of first riding their bike at four or five years old faded after a few years, and sadly, dimmed to zero once they got their first car. For others, it just keeps getting more fun. When I'm on my bike and working, pushing to get up a hill, I know I've earned that rush down the other side. If you're driving, you just simply can't appreciate the land – the whole environment – in the same way. (Drivers, think what you will, but you cyclists know exactly what I mean.)
A bunch of years ago, some friends and I got on our bikes and rode from Toronto to Vancouver over the course of the summer. It was an amazing trip of almost 5,300 km (3312 miles) that took two and a half months, and ultimately took me to the land of great coffee and my own little rebirth. Man, oh man, did we see Canada, and it's still a significant milestone/accomplishment in my life. But this is an altogether different thing.
One day, South Africans Nathim Cairncross, 28, and Imtiyaz Ahmad Haron, 25, were throwing ideas at each other. One stuck: What if they were to bicycle from their home in Cape Town to Mecca for Hajj? Yeah, you read that right. An idea so simple and yet so awesome you wish you'd thought of it yourself. Like any crazy idea, there's excitement because although it might be crazy, it's not impossible. So they did it. They got on their bikes and rode. And they even made it early for Hajj.
Almost 11,000 km (6875 miles). 12 countries. Nine months. Not all of it going as planned.
Cairncross and Haron started riding February 7 and made it into Saudi Arabia in late October, well in advance of Hajj, and were welcomed by powerful storms, thunder, and lightning. Their story impressed and inspired many people along their route, which included friendly people in South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Malawi, Tanzania, and Kenya. They were stymied by petty functionaries with clipboards at the Ethiopian border, forcing them to fly to Turkey and continue the trip southward from there through Syria, Israel, Jordan, then finally Saudi Arabia. (My map above includes some of the cities they named and capitals of some countries. It's not their official map.) Luckily, the Tabuk People of the Clipboards (in Jordan) restored the reputation of the Clan of the Clipboards. Cairncross and Haron's story impressed three generals enough that they expedited their visas and gave them food and shelter for the night. Rock on border guards!
It's a huge undertaking. There's no other way to think about it. One of the many similarities between their trip and mine was the sheer power of having a goal, not really having a good idea of what you're getting into, but doing it anyway. And once you realize you're in, there's no turning back. Another was people calling them crazy. Yet another was wonderful people along the way who would help in so many ways – food, lodging, or even just moral support by riding alongside. You get to talk to everybody, and discover their stories and dreams when you're travelling on a bike. It's just different from other forms of travel.
The journey to Hajj, by its history and nature, has always been a long and arduous one, filled with struggle and danger. Many people have died en route over hundreds of years, and many more during the Hajj itself. No doubt the danger continues during the return home. (These two still don't know how they're getting home yet – they're discussing donations on their Facebook page.) It's not like there's no struggle nowadays, but getting on a plane in Toronto and landing in Jeddah 15 hours later is a significantly different level of challenge. (Shortest flight I could find.)
In an interview with Al Jazeera, Cairncross voiced a feeling that I share, and which first became truly meaningful for me during my own bike trip:
"If I work very hard for something, at the end of the day it's sweeter; I value it more. After nine months [cycling] through Africa and the Middle East – of course, I value it more."
We've also said another thing in common (although I never said it to the BBC): "It was a life-changing experience. I would definitely do it again."
The Hajj seems to get bigger every year, and more layers of complexity are added by technology and other factors of globalization. It's fascinating to contrast the photo series above with something like these photos of Hajj from a 1953 issue of National Geographic, not just in terms of what has changed but also what hasn't. And speaking of change, we found this video of proposed structural changes to the Grand Mosque (in order to accommodate the ever-increasing numbers of pilgrims) quite impressive. There will probably be a lot of resistance to such changes in certain quarters, but the problem of crowd management must be taken quite seriously. The King of Saudi Arabia and his government have a huge responsibility to both the past and future in developing the area around the Ka'aba (not one we'd personally be eager to shoulder).
And if you go through all these images, and are still hungry for a little more on the Hajj, check out CBC reporter Muhammad Lila's Hajj blog that he's keeping on The Toronto Star website.
We had a guest lecturer in my class on Islamic mysticism this week: talented Toronto poet/spoken word artist Sheniz Janmohamed. She came in at my beloved professor's request to talk to us about Sufi poetry and music. Janmohamed is young, but she's already done lots, such as founding Ignite Poets, an initiative that allows young poets and spoken word artists to collaborate and work together for peace and social justice. Last year, Janmohamed travelled to Kenya, and organized an Ignite Poets show to raise money for the Hawkers Market Girls Centre in the slums of Nairobi.
Janmohamed also recently published her first book of poetry, Bleeding Light, which is a collection of ghazals, a traditional poetic form much loved in many parts of the Muslim world and definitely by Sufi poets. Janmohamed describes it as "heavily influenced by Sufi philosophy." Her mentor, the late poet Kuldip Gill, wrote of Janmohamed's work:
Sheniz Janmohamed is one of a very few new poets who has mastered the form of the ghazal in a way that brings together the emotional aspects of the form and the expectations of the listeners who know the form and its cultural unity: mystic illumination, rhyme, refrains that exude passion, and couplets with wise insights. The couplets in her eloquent and appealing ghazals dazzle one with their precision, sudden turns and brilliant use of the cultural memory of language and imagery.
After Janmohamed was finished her lively lecture on poetry and music, my prof asked her to read some of her poems. Rather than reading from her book, though, she instantly launched into two well-rehearsed spoken word pieces, with a force and energy that I think surprised and electrified most of the students in the room, myself included. Suddenly this pleasant and interesting lecture felt like a poetry slam, and it was awesome. One of the two pieces she recited was this one, "Lyrical Kiss." I would actually say the performance she gave in class was even stronger than the one in that video. If you have the chance to hear her somewhere, I'd recommend it; you can keep up with her on her Facebook page. In the meantime, check out this enjoyable interview with Janmohamed, and also this other powerful piece, "My People Killing My People." Janmohamed is definitely one to watch.
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