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Freedom for Abe is freedom for Ali

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Jul 03, 2009

Every Fourth of July, I receive a greeting card from friends who keep alive the memory of the anti-slavery movement in America. This year, Abraham Lincoln graced the front of their card. Inside, the Lincoln quote reads:

I have often inquired of myself, what great principle or idea it was that kept this confederacy so long together. It was not the mere matter of the separation of the colonies from the motherland, but that sentiment in the Declaration of Independence which gave liberty, not alone to the people of this country, but, I hope, to the world, for all future time. It was that which gave promise that in due time the weight would be lifted from the shoulders of all men.

In due time… Not alone to the people of this country, but, I hope, to the world… With those stirring words, Abe has something profound in common with Ali.

My most dedicated Tehran informant, Ali, recently inspired a message that I sent to my Facebook page:

“More injured are coming to hospital. After seeing so much fresh blood, those who’ve been bed-ridden and out of action for a few days need their morale boosted. So Ali is asking all of us: What do you love about your freedom? I’ll convey your replies to his sis; he’ll share with other patients via code of communication developing among the wounded.”

Facebookers replied with a cascade of reflections. Some highlights:

* “There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give to our children. One is roots; the other, wings. I awake each day knowing this is possible, with sunlight, peace, and dreams of tomorrow. I do not fear my neighbors, my homeland, or my community, but cry for those who do. For one is never truly free if the only certainty is fear. And the fact that I can write this makes me the freest of all. For what is life if it can’t be expressed and felt? May all your voices be heard.”

* “When you are free, you can tell the bastards to get lost. You can walk away and they can’t stop you. You can ignore the MFers.”

* “A freedom without limits is no freedom at all.”

* “I love walking down the street and knowing that even if someone I encounter has different beliefs than me, or even if they dislike me after having learned my beliefs, I still have the right to believe, and my country will protect that right.”

* “Freedom means defending the rights of those who hate me without feeling ridiculous.”

* “I love my freedom because I treasure the uniqueness of each individual. Oppression squashes that uniqueness; freedom allows it to (although doesn’t guarantee it to) flower.”

* “Freedom is to be fully human with the absolute worth of the human person. This is lacking both in secular materialistic cultures and in totalitarian ideologies that blot out humans as individuals.”

Spurred on by the wisdom of Facebookers, my Twitter followers weighed in with their own answers for Ali. A sample:

* “why do I love my freedom? kinda nice to get up in the morning and not have to worry about being shot for my tweets.”

* “I’ve just spent the day with my 7 week old son. Freedom means I know his future will be HIS choices and desires.”

* “I luv freedom because having breakfast at 3 am while discussing politics should be the right of every human being.”

* “Freedom is crucial to happiness. It’s as simple as that.”

I can report that these responses made Ali happy. Which, in turn, would have made Abe happy. To abolitionists everywhere, thank you for your struggle on behalf of human dignity.

And to Americans: This Independence Day weekend, if you watch one film worthy of Abe’s message, make it “The Stoning of Soraya M.” Details of the movie — and where it’s playing — are here.

Why Iran’s protests are dying (for now)

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on Jun 28, 2009

Courtesy: WikiMedia Commons 

The other day, I wrote about Ali, one of my informants in Tehran. Years ago, this young Iranian introduced me to Martin Luther King Jr’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.”

Ali has spent the past two weeks in hospital, after taking blows to the head from Basij paramilitaries. If there’s a consolation in any of this, it may be that a hospital bed sucks less than a prison cell.

Still, Ali is becoming despondent. Iran’s demonstrations are dying. And so, it seems, is his soul. Here’s what I just reported to my Facebook constituency: “He’s out of hospital now but quite demoralized over 1) gov’t crackdown; 2) lack of opposition leader (where’s Mousavi gone to??); 3) no new strategies (see “lack of leader”); 4) deep division among Iranians about whether protests are valuable. (Some Tehran bizpeople are angry that sales are down bigtime due to public’s fear of being in streets.)”

But there’s something more about why the protests are abating: Young Iranians have taken inspiration from the central narrative of Shia Islam. That narrative challenges dictatorship. So far, so good. Problem is, the same narrative celebrates martyrdom as the means to achieve only a moral victory, not a political one.

In effect, Shia tradition romanticizes suffering. And anything that turns oppression into a fetish won’t end oppression. The question thus becomes: Can young Iranians use Shia tradition to replace, once and for all, martyrdom with freedom?

Read my full analysis in the Toronto Globe and Mail.

Free Faris!

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Jun 20, 2009

Even before the Iranian uprisings, I’ve noticed more emails from young Muslims who are leaping out of the closet as free-thinkers.

But some are still limping out, and they need our best efforts to hold them up. Consider the case Faris, a teenage boy from Libya.

As if to surround him with guardian angels, I’m peppering this post with photos of my recent visit to the Young Women’s Leadership Academy in East Harlem. The strength of these girls could serve as a life-line for this boy.

Introducing Faris:

“I’m 14 years old, I’m half Irish and half Arabic. I live in Libya, and I’m currently having serious issues with my faith.

The amount of hate this country inflicts on Jews and Europeans is unbelievable. In our history books, it never refers to Jews without the word ‘racist’ beforehand, never refers to Europeans without the word ‘terrorist’ beforehand.

They teach us at one point that this is the religion of love and peace, and then flip to bashing various groups, including gays (which I recently discovered I am).

I thank god for giving me a mother to help me understand that love is better than religion, but my dad is blaming my access to the outside world and is trying to take away my laptop, my Internet connection, my mobile phone.

Shutting myself up, like I tended to do before, just won’t work anymore. I know you’re very busy, but I would appreciate it so much if you could give me a little support.” - Faris

Irshad replies to Faris: A little support? Hell, no, bro! I’m giving you actual allies. Listen to another young Muslim whose email I received immediately after yours:

“I live and work in Abu Dhabi. I belong to my thoughts and conscience more than my citizenship, which is Emirati. I am writing to you because I speak the same language as yours, defending our faith with the same enthusiasm and surrounded by those who would call us anti-Islam, koffar, or whatever…

I appreciate that you give it up to GOD, that he is the only one who knows the truth and that we are only seekers. I always try to put this in words! As a matter of fact, I always say that I might be wrong in what I am doing or convinced with, but with the brain, knowledge, experience, etc, I have come up with conclusions that I cannot lie about. I will live my life with honesty and integrity no matter what. That is what makes me ready for the day of judgment!

GOD knows me better than anyone, knows how I struggle to minimize the gap between what I think, say and do! Congratulations for what you have achieved so far in your honest way toward TRUTH. :)” - Fatema

Irshad returns to Faris: So what have we learned from Fatema? We’ve learned that by putting the transcendent God at the center of her faith, she minimizes, or outright eliminates, all the negative noise that human beings hurl in the name of a petty God.

We’ve also learned that her identity as an Arab or Muslim takes a backseat to her integrity as an individual — a complex, nuanced, thinking creature that no majestic deity could possibly reject, since any God worthy of worship has to be more than a manufacturer of widgets and automatons.

In short, Faris, if your faith is hostage to the approval of others, lose it. Go ahead. Lose faith. Because it’s not faith at all. It’s religious rust.

Take strength from another of your young Muslim allies who’s found her conscience under the thick coating of oxidized, organized Islam:

“I’m so happy that someone finally has the guts to stand up to the so-called scholars and imams of today. I was at a point in time when I was really feeling lost, but after reading your book, I’ve gained love and faith for Islam again.

I’ve never been able to understand organized/institutional Islam. It’s been hammered into my head since childhood that being a good person isn’t enough. You will still go to hell if you don’t do all the other stuff (but in your book, you clarified all that stuff as culture).

Being an independent Muslim woman of the 21st century, I always felt suffocated by the rules and regulations of institutional Islam. I thought I must be one of those people that the Quran states has a veil over their eyes and heart.

But what truly disturbed me about the religion are some of the so-called hadiths [reported sayings of the Prophet M]. For example, that hell has more women than men it, as if we don’t suffer enough on earth! Let a man give birth just once! Or that you will go to hell of you disobey your husband. Puh-leeze!!

I’m now in the process of weeding out the culture. I no longer feel suffocated. If anything, I feel free, and this is the Islam that I will pass on to my children. I’m also having a huge effect on the way my husband sees Islam.” - Reyana

Irshad turns to Faris: See? It’s not only possible to ditch other people’s dogma, but you can liberate the mind of your own husband — something you’ll have a better chance of achieving than I ever will.

And, Faris, in case you’re still worried that your father will pull the plug on your tech toys, let me end this way: A functioning mind is far more valuable than an Internet connection. This guy, emailing from the University of Peshawer, proves that you can be “connected” yet completely cut off from the gift that is God:

“well, Miss Irshad Manji, don’t have time to read ur book but the statement (trouble with Islam) is enough 2 say that ur place is nothing but HELL in the here-after. Every living creature has 2 taste death.

This world is going 2 end very soon, 95 percent of the sign of doomsday have appeared. After 2013, there will be big change through out the universe. 3rd world war may break out and it will be beginning of end. Repent for wut u did before the doors are closed, by God.” - Ahmad Usman

Irshad winks at Faris and whispers: Not your type, is he? Nor mine. God truly is merciful.

May the God of mercy watch over the gutsy demonstrators of Iran.  May they know that they’re not alone in fighting for freedom of thought, conscience and expression.  May they draw solidarity from the individual acts of courage exhibited by Fatema, Reyana and Faris above. And may many more be propelled to join them.

Lessons from a young Iranian

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on Jun 16, 2009

They have a dream (courtesy: Wikipedia)

The massive riots against election fraud in Iran reflects something I learned a few years ago, thanks to a young man from Tehran. I wrote about it in The Trouble with Islam Today:

“An astonishing proportion of Iranian youth are intellectual renegades. Far from being a sea of ‘Down with America’ messages, their banners often declare, ‘Down with Monopoly’ (by which they mean the clerical monopoly on morality.)

Young Iranians often listen to Israeli radio for balance and a high rate of Internet access makes them more wired to the outside world than other Muslims.

Also, being Shias, they don’t feel the need to legitimize the Sunni overlords of Saudi Arabia. That’s not to say Iran’s ayatollahs don’t traffic in Saudi-style terror. Many do, and Hezbollah thanks them, I’m sure. Yet they’re the ayatollahs against whom Iran’s students are mounting a mighty, and largely non-violent, rebellion.

In fact, it was a twenty-nine-year-old friend in Iran who emailed me Martin Luther King Jr.’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. I’d never read it before. My friend prefaced it with this sentiment:

When your broad-minded buddies in North America hesitate to expose Saudi Arabia for fear of offending Muslims, remind them of the Birmingham liberals who want King to stop fomenting ‘needless tension’ in their town.

King told them, ‘I must confess that I am not afraid of the word ‘tension.’ I have earnestly opposed violent tension but there is a type of constructive, non-violent tension which is necessary for growth. Just as Socrates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise from the bondage of myths and half-truths to the unfettered realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, we must see the need for non-violent gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood.’”

The young Iranian who brought me MLK’s letter might be realizing his dream at this very moment. Here’s what I tweeted yesterday: Heard from connected friend in #Tehran that many say this is beginning of end for clerics - new generation now awake. Tipping point to come.

I’ve tried to reach him again, so far without success. The regime is cracking down on social networking tactics. Will report more via Twitter. Follow me @IrshadManji.

You can also download the Persian translation of my book, free of charge.

Pssst… Please eavesdrop

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Jun 11, 2009

“As an American woman with a Jewish cultural background married to a Catholic raised man, I am most grateful for your informed views, thoughts, and ideas. It gives me hope for a world of more freedom for all. However, I am disheartened by the dearth of thoughts coming from the Western Muslim community regarding Islamic introspection. If you hear anything, please make it available to us non-Islamic folk. Is there an interfaith forum for self-reflection that we can all be privy to?” - Lorri Paulucci

In a word, “yes.” In two words, “please eavesdrop.”

Reform-minded Muslims invite you to read our message to fellow Muslims through a brand new book that challenges the complacency, passivity and denial of the so-called moderates in our faith.

Hot off the presses is Critical Thinkers for Islamic Reform, a collection of essays to which I’ve contributed and which you can buy on amazon.com. It’s the product of a recent conference naughtily named, “A Celebration of Heresy.” I blogged about it here.

Now, the conference organizers are giving you access to what was thought, expressed and debated at the heresy hoe-down. “The 30 scholars and activists who contributed to this book do not necessarily agree on every issue,” confess the editors. “However, we all agree on the imperative of a radical reformation in the Muslim world — a reform under the guidance of the Quran and with the light of reason, our Creator’s greatest gift to us…”

But wait! There’s more. We also hope you’ll tune into a TV documentary that captures the revolt of a reform-minded Muslim at a mainstream American mosque. That reformer is Asra Nomani, single mom, defiant journalist and ardent foe of segregation — a widespread practice in the Muslim sanctuaries of the United States.

Asra takes on the tribalists in her forthcoming PBS film, “The Mosque in Morgantown.” Watch the trailer, then catch the entire program on June 15 at 10 pm Eastern.

With Asra Nomani at a shared book-signing, New York 2005. (Courtesy: Aachara Kinan)

And for God’s sake, fear not the political incorrectness of peering into Muslim conversations. As Martin Luther King Jr. pleaded, “Never again can we afford to live with narrow, provincial, outside agitator idea.” In an interdependent world, there is no outsider. Like it or not, we’re in this mess together.

I, for one, am grateful that Lorri Paulucci wants more information. May she embolden other nosey non-Muslims.

We are the action we’ve been waiting for

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on Jun 05, 2009

With Rep. Keith Ellison, first Muslim elected to the U.S. Congress. (Courtesy: Rick Jauert)

Here’s the man whom President Obama praised in his Cairo speech. Representative Keith Ellison took his unofficial oath of office by placing a hand on the Quran owned by Thomas Jefferson.

The inscription Keith penned on our photo above: “Be brave, bold, fearless and ever faithful.”  In a sense, that’s the deeper message of Obama’s Cairo speech.  But this message has been lost in the avalanche of commentary about the speech — commentary that emphasizes the need for action.

Truth is, those who say they’re “waiting for” action are missing Obama’s point: In challenging the stale dichotomies of either/or, he’s arguing that action is everybody’s responsibility.  Action isn’t strictly the duty of the U.S. It’s a task for us — all of us: Arabs, Jews, Americans, Muslims, Christians, Palestinians, politicians, Israelis and yes, even atheists.

As a presidential candidate, Obama hinted at this theme when he famously announced that “we are the change we’ve been waiting for.”  Apply that principle to what needs to happen after Cairo: We are the action we’ve been waiting for.

How can we act, according to Obama? By loosening our grip on comforting tribal narratives and working for a more universal vision. Which means personal introspection, communal self-criticism and painful questions about our cultural myths will be necessary for Obama’s agenda to be realized.   That’s a lot more to reform than U.S. foreign policy.

As a graduate of history, I’m only too aware that such reform takes time.  America itself was founded as a theocracy whose clerics could be murderously dogmatic.  The country needed several generations to figure out a workable separation of church and state.  Still, that effort required voices of moral courage who would doubt the perfection of Christianity precisely to ensure the free and voluntary practice of faith.

One of those voices belonged to Thomas Jefferson . He’s the founding father on whose copy of the Quran Rep. Keith Ellison swore his symbolic oath.  In an act of moral courage, Jefferson advised his nephew:

“[S]hake off all the fears of servile prejudices under which weak minds are servilely crouched. Fix reason firmly in her seat, and call to her tribunal every fact, every opinion. Question with boldness even the existence of a god because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason than that of blindfolded fear…

Do not be frightened from this enquiry by any fear of its consequences. If it ends in a belief that there is no god, you will find incitement to virtue in the comfort and pleasantness you feel in its exercise, and the love of others which it will procure you.  If you find reason to believe there is a god, [then] a consciousness that you are acting under his eye, and that he approves you, will be a vast additional incitement…

I repeat that you must lay aside all prejudice on both sides, and neither believe nor reject any thing because any other person, or description of persons, have rejected or believed it.  Your own reason is the only oracle given you by heaven…”

Don’t misunderstand. I’m not suggesting that Obama should have preached rationality over religiosity in Cairo.  I do, however, believe that he should have quoted one more verse from the Quran — “God does not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves” (13:11).

Bottom line: If we are the change we’ve been waiting for, then we’re waiting only for ourselves.

Barack Obama has speech problems

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on Jun 03, 2009

In Cairo, spring 2006. Heaven help us all…

(Courtesy: Tara Todras-Whitehill)

As you know, I’ve got a wee bit to say in advance of the big speech that President Obama will make to Muslims on Thursday.

Here’s my new commentary, published in the Toronto Globe & Mail.

Judging by the emails hitting my inbox, I’m already getting slammed for this piece by the Obamabots — the unthinking, unquestioning lot who treat the president as if he’s God, while having treated the former president as if he’s Satan.

A sinful suggestion: How about treating all presidents as if they’re human beings in an exceptional office?

With that in mind, enjoy the editorial.

Letter from a Cairo jail

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on May 31, 2009

In Cairo just before the Egyptian government cracked down on democracy activists. (Courtesy: Tara Todras-Whitehill)

This Thursday, President Obama will deliver a highly anticipated speech to Muslims — and he’ll be doing it from Cairo.

While many gush and fawn over Washington’s new approach to diplomacy, not everyone’s convinced. Consider this email from Robert, a friend of mine who happens to be an ardent Democrat:

“It is hugely disappointing that [President Obama] is going to Egypt to talk about his outreach to the Muslim world. Who is he going to be addressing as his local audience — Hosni Mubarak? The Muslim Brotherhood?

I wonder if dissidents and reformers who are behind bars will even be able to see or hear the speech (not likely). Such audacious hope our President will be inspiring that day.

And to follow it with a trip to Normandy to celebrate the 65th anniversary of the D-Day landing, which was the beginning of the end for Hitler and Nazi fascism — liberating continental Europe to allow for democracy. The mind reels.”

Obama’s got other speech problems. Read this email, recently sent to me by Harudin in Malaysia:

“Are you sure you are a faithful Muslim??? Why you are too fear to this religion??? Are you working with white house???”

Translation: Even in the age of Obama, the White House represents a den of oppression to many a Muslim. This, despite the president’s emphasis in his January 20 inaugural address that America will resume its perch as a champion of human rights everywhere. As he trumpeted that day:

“To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history…”

But in choosing a theoretically democratic, actually authoritarian state as the soil from which to be giving his speech to Muslims worldwide, Barack Obama has some ’splaining to do — both to Democrats like Robert and to Muslims like Harudin.

Robert ended his email to me this way: “I know how fond you are of Martin Luther King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. I wonder if you might write something from the perspective of those who are looking to the US for hope from a Cairo jail.“

Superb idea — but it ain’t me who should pursue it. It’s Ahmdollah. He’s a young Egyptian who contacted me exactly one year ago. Here’s part of his email:

“… why the media in egypt shows israel as the evil enemy? you know [Ariel] sharon’s son is in jail while gamal mubarak [son of Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak] rides government cars with a huge security?

why really a young egyptian engineer fly away and hits himself to the walls of world trade center and what was the message he was trying to say and what kind of education pushed him to do such a stupid thing?

the problem i believe is we r living in continuously suppressed-thinking STATE. i mean we egyptians have the right to shout loud in a football game but we doesn’t have the right to protest against any political or religious affair.

do you know that a girl was arrested because she made a group on the facebook - calling for a strike? and a famous journalist was jailed because he said that mubarak is maybe ill because he doesn’t show up at a recent ceremony?

i don’t think that the problem is islam but I doesn’t think anything else because in my country I doesn’t have the right to think at all.

oh irshad sometimes I dare to ask - while I am hiding in dark - is there hope for us?”

Not a bad start to the Letter from a Cairo Jail.

My own commentary is coming. Stay tuned.

The dream still lives

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on May 26, 2009

Above: Susan Boyle performs on “Britain’s Got Talent” (Courtesy: musicofsusanboyle.com)

Below: Soraya Manutchehri, played by Mohzan Marno, in The Stoning of Soraya M (Courtesy: Universal Pictures)

Unexpectedly, these past few days have restored my faith in humanity. Not that my faith was irredeemably flagging, but every so often you have to wonder if you’re insane for dreaming big, bold and brash.

I’m happy to report that for entirely rational reasons, I’m dreaming on.

It all started when the Moral Courage Project hosted a private screening of the soon-to-be-released film, “The Stoning of Soraya M.” I’ll tell you more about the movie later. For now, just know that this story goes deeper than the brutal execution of an Iranian woman by her fellow villagers.

The movie introduces us to Zahra, a voice of moral courage who tries to stop Soraya’s death. She fails. In one scene, Soraya’s deceitful husband notices the twitching eye of his barely breathing wife and screams to the stone-clutching villagers, “The bitch still lives!” He summons the crowd to hurl its final fusillade at Soraya.

Still, at the end of the film, the morally courageous Zahra manages to do something that reminds us of a simple, timeless truth: Even when you can’t pre-empt or prevent a heinous crime from unfolding, you can always use your voice to have a longer-term impact.

Soraya dies. But — to paraphrase her tormentor — the dream still lives.

The day after that screening, I shared chai with my fellow NYU professor Suketu Mehta, author of Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found. As we swapped observations about the future of free expression, Suketu introduced me to a name I’d never heard before: Roberto Saviano, a young Italian journo who’s under 24-hour guard for exposing the mafia of Naples.

Suketu is a friend of Roberto.”Does he still live in Naples?” I asked.

“Nobody knows,” Suketu replied. “Not even his family. The police themselves admit he’s a dead man walking.”

That’s not only because Roberto Saviono is speaking truth to power in his community; it’s also because Italians are devouring his efforts. To date, two million copies of his book have sold in Italy alone. More than 40 other countries have translated his works. The mafia can’t abide such outsized success from a puny individual who’s merely practicing his craft.

I’ll say it again: Roberto Saviano might die, but the dream of moral courage still lives.

After my chai date with Suketu, I flipped open my MacBook to google Roberto. As is my (highly inefficient) habit, I felt compelled to check emails first. A message appeared from one of my students, Kate Otto, whom I’ve blogged about as a voice of moral courage in her own right. Kate attended the “Soraya” screening, where we discussed the need for men to challenge other men about how violence victimizes their sons as much as their daughters.

In that vein, Kate sent me a link to her friend Jimmie Briggs. He’s about to launch “Man Up,” a global campaign calling on men to grow up and take responsibility for gender-based violence. One of the campaign’s signature events will cleverly coincide with the 2010 World Cup in South Africa.

You have to read this profile of Jimmie. He’s not a sermon-spewing ideologue or woe-is-us protestor. He’s a father trying to get it right by transcending any fear of manning himself up. Moral courage prevails in my emails.

At this point, I have to confess to another bad habit. If I’m not checking emails, I’m surfing The New York Times. Which is what I did before resuming my search for Roberto Saviano.

That’s how I caught a splash-page story of yet another voice of moral courage — from China. The Times profiled Lu Chuan, a rising filmmaker who’s convinced his country’s censorship board to release his movie about the mercy that can flow between combatants in war.

Lu’s film is provocative because it compassionately reveals the complexities of a Japanese soldier — translation: enemy of China — during an episode of horrific conflict between the two countries. So how did he pass muster with government censors? Read The Times.

Bottom line: More threatening than the nationalist dogma of the Communist Party is the hyper-chauvinism of many Chinese themselves. As The Times tells us, “The death threat landed in Lu Chuan’s email inbox the first week his film on the Nanjing massacre was released here in China… Other threats soon followed, as a glance at the tens of thousands of comments on Mr. Lu’s blog shows. One person wishes his parents slow and painful deaths. Another said he would cut off Mr. Lu’s penis.”

By now, I was thoroughly distracted from my search for Roberto Saviano. All these glimpses of moral courage reminded me of why I have to finish reading a new book by yet another voice of moral courage. Marc Ellis is a professor of Jewish Studies at Baylor University in Texas. He recently wrote Judaism Does Not Equal Israel, a hi-octane argument for questioning Israeli state policies.

What’s morally courageous about this? Prof. Ellis is animated by core prophetic Jewish values. In effect, he’s speaking truth to power within his own tribe for what he believes is a greater, more universal, good. He hasn’t repudiated his community. He’s saying that Judaism calls on him to have higher expectations of fellow Jews, which is the ultimate expression of faith in your community.

I appreciate that a lot of my Jewish friends would disagree — to the point of branding me a sell-out. They contend that the existential threat facing Israel from the likes of Iran demands unity, even uniformity, of voice. Now more than ever, they say, we can’t afford the kind of moral courage that undermines Israel’s ability to defend itself.

All the more reason, I say, for moral courage — the kind that puts Muslims on notice that we have to “man up” ourselves too.

Aziz Abu Sarah

Upon reading more of Prof. Ellis’s book, I was propelled back to my emails to look for a link sent to me by an Israeli friend, Roi Ben-Yehuda (whom this blog has profiled as a voice of moral courage.)

Roi wanted me to know about a Palestinian, Aziz Abu Sarah, who decided to commemorate Holocaust Day this year. Check out Aziz’s extraordinary editorial. No, it’s not a table-turning on the Holocaust by declaring Palestinian suffering to be of genocidal proportions. It’s a sincere confession of empathy for the other. Gotta love this quote:

Watching Schindler’s List, I was moved by the story to a degree that I cannot describe. It was impossible to fight the tears streaming from my eyes. The connection I made with those who suffered the Holocaust goes beyond nationality, religion or race; it was the connection of one man to another in the face of universally understandable pain.

Fine, the skeptics will snear, but what about Iran and the mortal menace that its regime poses both to Israel and to Persians themselves? Surely, Irshad, you see the urgency of moral courage to hold Mahmoud Ahmadinejad accountable for his manipulations, prevarications and outright atrocities!

Damn straight, I do. That’s why the Moral Courage Project screened “The Stoning of Soraya M” and is now building a human rights campaign around it. The routine violations of dignity within Iran today can’t be divorced from Tehran’s financial support of terrorist outfits in and around the Palestinian territories. It’s one massive barometer of how the clerics and their presidential beotch value life on earth, which is to say not that much.

Stoning presumed adulterers, hanging homosexuals, jailing journalists, bombing Jews as well as Arab Muslims and Christians who happen to be in the way — all of these injustices cry out to be busted. This summer, you’ll learn what the Moral Courage Project is doing on that and related fronts.

The whirlwind adventure that affirms my faith in humanity began with Soraya. But it ends with an angelic voice of moral courage named Susan. Let me explain.

After reflecting on Roberto Saviano, Jimmie Briggs, Lu Chuan, Marc Ellis and Aziz Abu Sarah, I desperately needed a breather. It occurred to me that Susan Boyle, the frumpy Scottish chanteuse who’s grabbed so many of us by the vitals, had just competed in the second round of “Britain’s Got Talent.” I had to find out how she fared.

Turns out that with with this latest appearance, she’s cemented her superstar status and won entry into the final round. Rock on, Braveheart.

Whatever the outcome, Susan’s brave heart can’t be denied. Not only did she rise above the taunts of bullies as a child, but she stared down the snickers of all who expected her to flop on-stage while delivering her first performance for Simon Cowell and gang. Her voice soared. Her detractors soured. The world fell silent. Then it fell in love.

The song that catapulted Susan Boyle? “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Miserables. Evidently, her dream refuses to die.

In the spirit of Soraya, so does mine.

Public service and morality, part two

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on May 20, 2009

Transforming “inspiration into impact” with members of the International Public Service Association. (All photos: Terkel Borg)

During his controversial commencement speech at Notre Dame University, President Obama called for “open hearts” and “open minds” when discussing uber-emotional issues. He was tackling abortion — and doing so at an internationally renowned Catholic college.

Of course, the president’s appeal for reason (or, at least, for reasonableness) can be applied to other incendiary debates, including free speech versus religious respect.

Which brings me to Terkel Borg, one of my graduate students. Terkel’s final assignment for me addressed an ambitious question: In a world of clashing beliefs, what makes for a moral, honest and introspective public servant?

Last week, I posted the first half of Terkel’s essay, in which he divulged his deeply personal struggle to figure out where he stood on the Danish cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad - - and the riots that followed their publication.

“Sensing no middle ground,” Terkel writes, “I chose the least troublesome option. I took no side. I let my political correctness triumph over my morally nuanced conscience, rationalizing that since I did not pen those drawings, why should I care anyway? A few years later, this moral dilemma came back to haunt me.”

Terkel then tells us that he landed a snazzy internship at the New York headquarters of the United Nations, an institution that “authoritatively embodies the universal values of human dignity.”

Or does it? That’s where we pick up the story — and Terkel’s next set of ethical challenges:

It turns out that the UN is a painfully hierarchical place and being a lowly intern does not expose you to many fulfilling assignments. You must make an effort to claim them. In February 2008, I got my chance.

The Danish intelligence security agency arrested three immigrants for conspiring to kill Kurt Westergaard, the most prominent artist behind the Muhammad cartoons – prominent because he is the one who sketched the Prophet with a bomb in his turban. In an act of solidarity with Westergaard, Danish newspapers reprinted his drawing.

Of course, the whole controversy flared up again. This development had to be reported to the UN Secretary General, and my division was tasked with doing so. At our staff meeting, all the overworked desk officers tried to dodge the assignment.

I detected an opportunity to assert my relevance to the team so I assured my superiors that I would be more than happy to write a detailed memo to the Secretary General. My relieved bosses appreciated the chance to test their new intern.

There was no template for the memo except that it had to be a maximum of one page and should not, in any way, include subjective analysis or recommendations for the Secretary General. Just the “facts.”

As I began to craft the memo and walk the diplomatic tightrope, I felt the entire undertaking to be a bit mystifying. Just the facts? Why should moral considerations be absent?

This would be a confidential in-house communiqué exclusively for the Secretary General. As the specialists on this matter, should our office not include clarification about what is at stake here?

Should I treat with silence the divisions and tensions in contemporary Danish society that led to this debacle? If I did, would the Secretary General not be misled to reduce this complex issue to a group of confrontational journalists and editors trying to cause commotion?

Should he not be warned that there was a deeper, more delicate moral conflict unfolding?

I decided that my politically correct instinct to view this as someone else’s problem would not win the showdown with my integrity. Not this time.

Carefully, I tried to express some of my concerns about the moral predicament through language ambiguous enough that it just might pass the censor. I soon realized that I was way out of my league. My superiors, being senior diplomats, reminded me with their edits that imprecise sentences are their bread-and-butter.

After witnessing several of my drafts crossed out in red ink, I gave up before further embarrassing myself. Having hustled to finish, I had done my job. The memo was excruciatingly objective and artificially concise – I squeezed it onto one page after gaining permission to tamper with the spacing and margins (yes, they do that at the UN, too). My pleased superiors allowed me to identify myself on the memo, which is not exactly a common gesture toward interns. To the casual observer, it had been a rarely rewarding day for this UN novice.

So what was it that still irked me? The truth is, I could not consider myself fulfilled after writing something so mechanistic for the supreme official of the United Nations that he might as well have been briefed by Wikipedia.

The more I pondered, the more annoyed I became. For once, I had cast off the political correctness to which I was so prone. I had cultivated the courage to defrost my mind of the ice age that Danish politics had been preserving it in. I had been ready to deliver a bold analysis that would have touched a raw nerve, even in me, only to discover that boldness was not wanted by the noble institution where I served the global public. The guardian of idealism and universal human rights was just as indifferent to, or afraid of, this moral dilemma as I had been a few years ago.

The political clash of moralities triggered in Denmark three years ago is by no means over. In April 2009, a divisive UN conference against racism took place in Geneva amidst unilateral boycotts and ambassadors walking out in protest.

The conference proved vividly how universal rights can be politicized to promote an agenda that has nothing do with rights at all. Even before April, a union of Muslim-majority states used the conference to equate criticism of certain cultural practices with “racism” against Islam. In turn, many human rights advocates objected fervently that universal principles of dignity are meant to protect the individual, not organized religion.

When moral values are stripped of their context like this, how are we supposed to navigate as public servants? Do we pretend it is someone else’s problem again?

Although the word “morality” can sound eerily like the dreaded word “moralizing,” are we really content to doze off into a world of relativism where we have no idea what to defend because we would rather imagine that nothing is stake?

If we truly want to serve the public good and realize this “change” that we love to buzz about, do we not need to clarify and defend our principles at the risk of upsetting those who do not share them?

Most people would agree that public service is far from a science, let alone an exact science. How we define useful solutions to pressing issues seems to evolve in paradigms. As a student, I find this frustrating to admit because deep down I really want to believe that rationality can guide all of us. Regrettably, not every answer can be an efficient one. Nor can all policies be apolitical.

Believing otherwise is simply naive because values and moral claim a huge stake in public service. Becoming an honest public servant means, first of all, acknowledging that the world you inhabit is full of power struggles, human manipulation and challenges to our own moralities. This is indeed treacherous ground.

Still, caution should not be allowed to freeze our audacity. If we succumb to the fear of offending purists who resist because it is culturally fitting or politically convenient, we will not only wind up doing the public a disservice; we will also be violating our own integrity.

After all, integrity is the bedrock of our beings. This is where we find the courage to stand tall and pursue change, even when that means stepping on the toes of some who see things differently.

Integrity is what allows us to uncover the values that are too valuable to dilute. Integrity is the inconvenient voice inside that makes us pause and think when the undemanding choice feels spineless, ineffective, or simply wrong.

Not being afraid of the troublesome alternative – in all it clear-cut simplicity and overwhelming complexity – is how I define moral courage and public leadership. In our baffling, disordered, globalizing world, that is how I choose to serve the public.

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