(article first published on Islamonline.net’s Arts & Culture page)
DEENTIGHT
Deentight brings to the screen the untold story of Western Muslims struggling to find a balance between their culture and their religion. Emmy Abdul Alim was at the screening of the film in Manchester, UK.
“In an era where the media claims there is a clash between Islam and the West, how does one who is both Muslim and Western reconcile this paradox?” asks Mustafa Davis, filmmaker and director of the documentary Deentight. His film, which follows a group of hip hop artists living in the United States and the United Kingdom digs deep into this conflict, asks honest questions and gives starkingly truthful personal perspectives on the tributary issues of identity, culture(s) and Islam.
It is clear from the outset what Deentight does not set out to be – a prescriptive guide to the halals and the harams of hip hop. Mustafa Davis’ camera pans the spectrum of the debates. Mutah Beale (formerly Napoleon of Tupac’s Outlawz) is clear that there is no contention. For him, music is haram. HBO Def Poet Amir Sulaiman is also resolved on the matter. For him, there is nothing more powerful than the spoken word to call people to Allah. The Hip Hop collective After Hijrah uses Hip Hop as da’wa, and “go where it’s needed”. In the film we see them performing in a bar. Muslim Chaplain Usama Canon, brother of DJ/Producer Anas Canon has a problem with free mixing of men and women at hip hop concerts, especially when audiences get up on their feet and start dancing. Hip hop journalist Adisa Banjoko reminded us that the Prophet (pbuh) spoke to the people of his time in the language of the people. Hip hop, he continued, is the language of the young people of our time. Like it or not, hip hop is a world youth culture, and da’wa through hip hop is one way to make sure our young people remain true to Islam, and one way to call people to Islam.
The debates are cacophonous, but Deentight gets to the heart of the matter concisely. What to do when your very person, life and identity is a sum of your culture and your religion, and you face the prospect of having to negate one because of the other? How do you live without the thing that contributes so significantly to the sum of your being?
For many of the artists featured in Deentight, hip hop and Islam are closely intertwined. Banjoko tells us that Islam is the unofficial religion of hip hop, that it was there from the beginning and that black Muslims, through hip hop, converted people to Islam. He points to the history that has shaped the United States vis-à-vis African-Americans and the years of segregation, when influential characters like Malcolm X inspired black communities towards their rights. Mustafa Davis added, “Islam is part of our culture as black Americans. To be a black American and to be Muslim, to be Muslim is the pinnacle.” Islam and hip hop, hip hop and Islam, both served to empower black Americans, instilling in them a sense of positive purpose, belonging and entrenched identity. And just as hip hop empowered and provided an outlet for expression for the struggling black urban ethnic minority community in the 70s and 80s, so did it their neighbours the Latinos and Filipinos.
It is easy to spot DJ Raichous in a room. She’s the one standing over the decks in her hijab. She was introduced to Islam via music by fellow Table Manners DJ Kidragon. She admits that balancing hip hop and Islam is a struggle, but at the same time a blessing. In one of the film’s most powerful moments of truth, HBO Def Poet Liza Garza said, “This is part of my blood. I was doing this, my mother was doing this, my grandmother was doing this, my great-great-grandmother was doing this.” Is it something she can part with? “No, no, no.”
If asked to give up either Islam or hip hop, Pop Master Fabel of the Rock Steady Crew would “run with Islam” because “that is what is going to take (him) to the next life.” On the other side of the ocean in the UK, Muhammed Ali, or “Aerosol Arabic” as he is known, says that his “urban spiritual art” takes him closer to Allah.
Mutah Beale reminded us of hip hop as a dangerous lifestyle. He knows first-hand, having been closely associated with Tupac. But even this reminder that evokes images of violence, sex, drugs and alcohol could not overpower the unquestionable outpouring of commitment, devotion and love that the artists in Deentight displayed for Islam. Mustafa Davis and the featured artists imbued the documentary with courage and sincerity. The film’s pace was driven by the inherent power and lyrical rhythms of hip hop, and its message was led by a collective conviction in faith.
Deentight opened in the UK ahead of its launch in the US. As the film opens in its homeland, Mustafa Davis is certain that the debates and discussions will continue, and intensify. Another film looking at Islam and hip hop that was recently released is Jennifer Maytorena Taylor’s “New Muslim Cool” about Hamza Perez (who is also featured in Deentight). One of the obvious reasons for the emergence of these films at about the same time is that the children of hip hop in the 70s and the 80s are now old enough to examine and analyse the phenomenon through mature and experienced lenses. This, coupled with the intense media spotlight that Islam and Muslims have been placed under since 9/11, has fuelled much interest in the relationship between Islam and the West. Deentight has given enough evidence that the “clash” and the dichotomy that the media expounds is certainly being productively processed and contributing positively to the society and communities in which they live. If you have the West on the one hand and Islam on the other, chances are, as we see in Deentight, they could very well meet in applause.
Is it just me, or is there a huge fervour, greatly increased and enhanced excitement in anticipation of Ramadhan this year, or is it just that people have more platforms and avenues to express themselves as individuals more than ever now? Everyday now for the past couple of weeks or so, I get numerous tweets about preparing for Ramadhan, about new Muslims encountering Ramadhan for the first time, about how people can’t wait for Ramadhan etc. Then there are the tweets that link to sites, writing about new applications and services designed to help Muslims during Ramadhan (most recently the Ramadhan Alert), youtubing about the merits of Ramadhan, podcasting about taraweeh prayers, exhibiting fancy clothes to look forward to end of Ramadhan, and that’s just what’s coming through on tweeter!
If you’re on facebook you probably get daily status updates calling out to Ramadhan, comments and “likes” in response to Ramadhan-related news and thoughts, and more.
Then there are the emails. My parents updating me about their Ramadhan umrah trip (in sha Allah!), the multitude of emails from various software companies pushing “Islamic” software, online stores like Amazon recommending me books I might like for the coming month etc.
All these have made me, the Muslim living in the UK and away from family and any sizeable Muslim community, feel rather comforted. For the past few years I’ve had to encounter Ramadhan alone for the most part. Fasting, eating, praying and celebrating Eid alone. It’s never bothered me as the good month was always enough to keep me going. This year, though, I feel like I have the entire online community of tweeters, emailers, bloggers, facebookers etc to experience and celebrate Ramadhan with me, and already I feel rather buoyed up!
In sha Allah the good month arrives in a few days and in anticipation of that arrival, let me wish the entire online ummah RAMADHAN KAREEM!
In response to my last post of 18 July (which feels like an eternity away), I did not get the chance to even start the recording of the English translation of the Qur’an. This rather saddens me, but not one to mull in regret, I look forward now to what’s to come.
I flew back into London 7th August, and now sit in some lovely summer sun. Quite a change from 40-degree intense scorching sun on my face.
A former colleague who is still with Islamonline.net and in Cairo wrote and asked “Do you miss Cairo?”. Bibi-Aisha, let’s see:
I miss some things but not most things.
1. I miss everyone greeting me with “As-salaamu alaikum” every ten seconds, and me returning their greetings with “wa alaikum as-salaam”
2. I miss everyone saying “in sha Allah” every ten seconds, and me saying it back to them every 20 seconds (or so…)
3. I miss being able to just get into a taxi to get to wherever I want to get to and knowing that I could well afford it
4. I miss hearing the sounds of the adhaan five times a day, regardless of the vocal talents of the muezzin
5. I miss taking for granted that God, religion, and family are central to everyone’s values and that these are never ever far away
6. I miss fatta and knuckles soup from al-Omda
Bibi-Aisha, that’s all I can come up with for now! We have a saying in Malay that goes “buang yang keruh, ambil yang jernih”, and with that in mind I shall take away with me the good and edge out the bad from the back of my head.
I shall continue to blog, especially while I go through my MBA in Islamic Banking and Finance. I am very much looking forward to that, and in sha Allah I will be able to put the knowledge to some good use! I will try my darnest to blog at least once a week from now on, so watch this space!
Ramadhan is coming up fast, and if you’re in the business of providing Islamic content you’re probably scrambling to prepare for the increased, heightened and intense demand that will no doubt come with the glorious month. As I prepare to leave the company and Egypt, my one and only “big project” for the Ramadhan schedule is the English translation reading and recording. This is by no means an easy task. The Qur’an itself is massive, and it will probably take a good 2-3 weeks to finish the job – only, of course, if we can actually get enough time in the recording studio, then go away to edit the material, putting the English translation reading alongside the Arabic recitation. But before we make our way into the recording studio, we first had to answer two pertinent questions:
1. Which English translation of the Qur’an?
2. Will management pass off a female voice reading the English translation? All the English translation readings that we found online were of male voices. We want to provide a “different voice”, and give women the opportunity to be included in this blessed endeavour.
I had initially selected Yusuf Ali’s translation. Compared with Arberry and Pickthall, it’s an easier read and a lot more “modern”. The sheikh at the company prefers Pickthall, because, as he said, of some of Yusuf Ali’s ideas, and because of Yusuf Ali himself as a person and scholar. As for a female voice for the English reading, the sheikh has no problems with female voices for the reading, but can’t our male colleague do it?
Needless to say, my perspectives on many matters differ with the (a lot) more conservative Islam and Muslim scholarship, and perhaps these issues will be tackled in this space in due time. So let’s start with this post. An attack ad hominem, (and for that satirical effect) and an attack ad feminem, perhaps?
Ibn Tulun Mosque minaret and courtyard. Photo: Katharine Ganly
Ibn Tulun Mosque Domed Sabil, with Muhammad Ali Mosque at the Citadel in the background. Photo: Katharine Ganly
I first visited the Ibn Tulun mosque in 2005, again in 2006, and again this afternoon. Sitting in the central courtyard’s ablution fountain (or domed sabil) I remember why this mosque is my favourite in Cairo. Its walls are so thick that once inside them you don’t hear Cairo’s streets anymore – a welcome respite, even in scorching hot weather.
The mosque was built for Ahmad Ibn Tulun, son of a Turkish slave of the Abbasid caliph al-Ma’mun, and founder of Egypt’s Tulunid Dynasty (868 – 905 AD). It is heavily influenced by the Samarra style, Samarra being Ibn Tulun’s home. The mosque’s original inscription slab identifies the date of completion as 265 AH, or 879 AD, making it arguably the oldest mosque in Cairo still in its original form.
In 2006 the minaret was closed off and I had to pay one of the caretakers to unlock the door at the base. This time round the tourist police at the main door of the mosque informed us that the minaret was open. If you get the chance to go all the way up, you’ll be rewarded with a view of the surrounding district and the citadel. As well, you’ll see lots of graffiti on the walls of the minaret – some written in with ink, others carved into the walls (I had time to take in the graffiti, as I needed a five-minute break after climbing those stairs, which to be fair, weren’t a severe climb, but dehydration and 40 degree heat don’t help). But before you climb all the way up to the minaret, be sure to climb out onto the first floor of the mosque, but hang on to your animals and children or they’ll fall off the open edges! The most memorable aspect of the mosque for me has always been the crenellations. The first time I saw them in 2005 the first thought that came to mind was, “Oh, Keith Haring figures!”
Ibn Tulun Mosque Main Entrance, with distinct crenellations. Photo: Katharine Ganly
But what immediately struck me as a third-time visitor to this calm oasis in the midst of a very dense and congested district is the evident decaying condition of the mosque. I remember a couple of months ago visiting the Citadel, and the Sultan Hassan and Rifa’i mosques for a third time as well and thinking how dilapidated they all appeared, compared with the last time I visited.
Is it just my imagination, or are these important mosques in Cairo not being suitably taken care of?
(For more information on the Ibn Tulun mosque, visit this “Tour Egypt” site)
I recently interviewed Dr Hayat Khan of La Trobe University (Australia) about Islamic Banking and Finance, asking him just how Islamic Islamic Banking and Finance really is. For those of you interested in training or re-training to work in the sector, Dr Khan is co-founder of a new Masters programme in Islamic Banking and Finance at La Trobe. If you’re in Australia or in the region, check it out! You can listen in to the interview right here.
Dr Khan recently wrote an article entitled “Bringing Morality Into Finance“.
The following is the full unedited article I wrote for the festival. An edited version was published on Islamonline.net.
Muslim Voices: Arts & Ideas
In considering a festival calling itself Muslim Voices: Arts & Ideas I found myself isolating the word “muslim”, and questioning issues of intra-Muslim (in)tolerances and sectarianisms. It is perhaps not an accident, I thought, that the three partner organisers –Asia Society, Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) and the NYU Center for Dialogues – are secular institutions. Their goal is clear – “to offer New York audiences the opportunity to experience the cultural diversity and multiple perspectives that represent the Muslim world”. I retreated from my defensive stance and chose to compose myself differently, turning away from intra-Muslim differences to find a platform from which Muslims of all inclinations can gather and celebrate in unity. The seemingly simple raison d’être of this festival belies the depth of its implications not so much for its goal of bridging “… the profound lack of understanding between Western and Islamic societies,” as stated by Asia Society President Vishakha N. Desai, but more so, perhaps, as an opportunity to further positive initiatives on intra-Muslim dialogue, understanding, co-existence, and tolerance.
Muslim Voices: Arts & Ideas originated in conversations between Mustapha Tlili (NYU Center for Dialogues Founder and Director) and Karen Brooks Hopkins (President of BAM). In celebrating the festival, the Empire State Building and Brooklyn Borough Hall will be lit green from June 5—7, and the festival will take place not only at the organisers’ venues, but also at various locations across New York City including American Museum of Natural History, Austrian Cultural Forum New York, Brooklyn Museum, Museum of Contemporary African Diasporan Arts, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and The New York Public Library. Involving more than 100 artists and speakers from around the world, the stage is set for an unprecedented festival. The epicentre of the 9/11 tragedies and the consequent “war on terror” now becomes the platform for a massive celebration of the cultural diversity of the Muslim world.
Grammy award-winning West African Griot devout Sufi Youssou NDour headlines the festival. When in the holy month of Ramadhan in 2005 he performed and released the album Egypt, an album that is at once deeply personal and religiously expressive, his fellow Senegalese labelled it blasphemous. Along with his one-night gig that opens the festival on June 5, the film I Bring What I Love is “a testament to his Muslim faith and an impassioned plea for a more tolerant view of Islam.” There is no doubt the documentary that follows his journey over two years in the wake of the controversies surrounding Egypt is a more vehement plea to Muslims than it is to non-Muslims.
Difference of opinion among Muslims about the (un)acceptability of music (and any other art forms for that matter) and the activities surrounding the performance, and attending of music concerts has always been vociferously enunciated by the “unacceptable” camp. If you trawl the archives of Islamonline’s “Ask the Scholar” section, and the comments that follow certain articles, you find that the loudest voices belong to those who deem music and concerts haram, and that these begin the slippery slope, consequently leading Muslims to even more haram activities. A lot of these voices may perhaps deem nasheeds to be acceptable, and then there are those who debate on what types of musical instruments are Islamic or not. I asked Dr Andrea Stanton of the NYU Center for Dialogues about the centre’s stand on this. She said, “At the Center we do not make value judgments about what – art or otherwise – is or is not “Islamic” or “Muslim”. However, we do recognize – as scholars and as people engaged on personal and professional levels with various Muslim communities here in the city and elsewhere – that certain art forms, like calligraphy, are often seen as more acceptable or at least more closely entwined with religious practice, while others, like dance, are seen as less acceptable or at least further from religious practice. We recognize that the faithful and the learned of many religions wrestle with the question of the value of various art forms, but we do not see our role as one of issuing either moral or aesthetic judgments. With “Muslim Voices” we are focussing on celebrating the rich interplay between individual expression, cultural influence, and religious faith that goes into the arts of today’s Muslim world.”
In this climate of intra-Muslim mudslinging, it seems that only secular institutions can get away with putting Sufi, Shi’a and Sunni on one celebratory platform. However, we remember in 2005 the birth of the Amman Message. Three seemingly basic yet deeply fundamental questions were asked – Who is a Muslim? Is it permissible to declare someone an apostate? Who has the right to undertake issuing fatwas? The conference came to a precise statement as to who is a Muslim – “Whosoever is an adherent to one of the four Sunni schools (Mathahib) of Islamic jurisprudence (Hanafi, Maliki, Shafi’i and Hanbali), the two Shi’i schools of Islamic jurisprudence (Jafari and Zaydi), the Ibadi school of Islamic jurisprudence and the Thahiri school of Islamic jurisprudence, is a Muslim. Declaring that person an apostate is impossible and impermissible. Verily his (or her) blood, honour, and property are inviolable. Moreover, it is not possible nor permissible to declare whosoever subscribes to the Ash’ari creed or whoever practices real Tasawwuf (Sufism) an apostate. Likewise, it is not possible nor permissible to declare whosoever subscribes to true Salafi thought an apostate. Equally, it is not possible nor permissible to declare as apostates any group of Muslims who believes in God, Glorified and Exalted be He, and His Messenger (may peace and blessings be upon him) and the pillars of faith, and acknowledges the five pillars of Islam, and does not deny any necessarily self-evident tenet of religion.”
The devil, though, is in the details, and four years following the spirit of unity of the seminal Amman Message, Muslims intent on passing moral judgments on fellow Muslims persist, even to the detrimental point of shedding fellow Muslim blood. It is all fine and good to agree on the most fundamental of principles – as Muslims we all believe in Allah Almighty, Muhammad (may peace and blessings be upon him) His final messenger and the pillars of faith, but the debates will continue when it comes to the very diverse threads that are woven into this bigger picture. And so moral high grounds will continue to be scaled. Perhaps we as Muslims need to return to ground zero, a common ground to re-build Muslim relations, shed animosities, reinstate respect.
Could the arts be used as a possible platform? Dr Stanton continued, “We see art as a very powerful means of creating connections between individuals, and of challenging broad stereotypes by providing experiential moments of beauty, of paradox, of complexity, and of intellectual, spiritual, and/or emotional power. With regards to “Muslim Voices”, we feel that the artists who will be performing and/or participating in the conference have a singular ability to communicate with audiences through their work.” The organisers of the festival speak of connecting Muslims and non-Muslims, but I suspect Muslim interest and involvement in such festivals, be they as artists, passive or active participants, can contribute to positive connections between Muslims as well. In the Amman Message, we read, “There exists more in common between the various schools of Islamic jurisprudence than there is difference between them.” Indeed, fundamentally in terms of belief, we as individual Muslims have more in common than we have in difference. Perhaps we would do well to stand firm on this common ground and look beyond it to learn and celebrate the differences in our colours, nations, tribes and tongues. We read in the Qur’an that we were made into “nations and tribes, so that you might come to know one another” (49:13), and that as believers, we are “naught else than brothers” (49:10).
In the course of the festival perhaps some Muslims might feel inclined to clap in appreciation of Kamilya Jubran’s haunting vocals and tap directly into the struggles of a Palestinian, move to Faiz Ali Faiz’s qawwali and question why Taliban militants target artists in Pakistan, be inspired to retrace the steps of Ibn Battuta after the film “Journey to Mecca” and re-discover Islam’s golden heritage, travel to Avignon to make contact with the growing Muslim community in France. Perhaps these will be the Muslims who will work from a position of diverse knowledge and perspective, strengthen Muslim bonds and build a unity in diversity in the face of international inter-religious relations. And perhaps there will be Muslims who will castigate and continue to judge fellow Muslims, look disdainfully on the arts, and the festival. But perhaps if you choose to do so, then remember as Muslims, that Muslim “…blood, honour, and property are inviolable”, that variance in opinion is “a mercy”, that at the last Allah alone judges, and that He made us as different as we are similar.
Where festival organisers seek to address the profound lack of understanding between Western and Islamic societies, we are reminded that a festival such as Muslim Voices: Arts & Ideas is an opportunity to further positive initiatives on intra-Muslim dialogue, understanding, co-existence, and tolerance. Perhaps the state of the world will benefit from more of such platforms that bring Muslims of all inclinations to gather and celebrate in unity.
Recently I interviewed Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi as the Director and filmmaker of “I Bring What I Love”, the film that follows the life of Youssou NDour since the release of his album Egypt. The NYTimes has a profile of her. See it right here. My article and interview with her can be found under “Muslim Voices: Arts and Ideas”.
My articles on Muslim Voices: Arts & Ideas (festival) and Cairo’s 1st Refugee Film Festival are online this week on Islamonline.net. The former is an editted version. The full version will be uploaded next week here on this blog. The latter comes with interviews I conducted at Tadamon – Egyptian Refugee Multicultural Council. Both articles are listed in the “Articles Published Elsewhere” page.
Muslim Voices’ interviews with – Zeyba Rahman, Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Isaac Solotaroff, featuring music from Youssou NDour, Faiz Ali Faiz Ensemble, Kamilya Jubran and Parissa.
I spoke to Ed Husain of the Quilliam Foundation and Talat Ahmed of the Muslim Council of Britain following the British National Party’s win of 2 seats to the European Parliament. Listen to the interview on IOL Radio right here.
