irshaddering thoughts

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.

Public service and morality, part one

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on May 15, 2009

 

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

For the next many days, I’ll celebrate with students who are graduating from New York University’s school of public service, which houses the Moral Courage Project (MCP).

One of my graduate students, a Danish dude named Terkel Borg, has been helping me expand the MCP. You’ll soon learn about the fruits of his labors.

Taking on Terkel as my intern was a no-brainer: As a student in the course I teach, Public Leadership and Moral Courage, he wrote a final paper that struck me as thoughtful, honest, even gutsy. It’s about struggling to be a “moral” public servant. With Terkel’s permission, I’m now publishing his essay.

This blog entry features part one of his paper. Interspersed are photos from my recent round-table with the International Public Service Association. Terkel also snapped those pics.

Read and reflect…

Let me start by making a confession. I do not know exactly why I applied to the Robert F. Wagner School of Public Service [at NYU]. I did not have a crystal-clear reason.

Sure, Wagner has a good academic reputation, which could probably propel me onto a respectable career path with a decent salary after I graduate. But let us face it: If I wanted to make money, I should have applied to a business or law program. Yet I did not. I did not even consider it.

There was something that drew me to a career in public service; something I could not shake off. It was an intuitive conviction that “change” is more than a catchy election slogan. This might seem self-evident, but to me it is not.

Allow me to explain why.

I was born and raised in Denmark. An insignificant bubble on the map of Northern Europe, my Little Mermaid of a country has five million inhabitants who live relatively carefree.

We take pride in our model of the welfare state. Danes have income equality alongside a competitive economy. We have government-sponsored health-care and higher education. We are among the most committed donors of development aid. Transparency International ranks Denmark as the least corrupt country in the world, while the University of Leicester’s World Map of Happiness rates it as “the happiest place on Earth.”

Never mind the enormous tax pressure, the cold and cheerless weather, the unspectacular landscape, the dull cuisine, the language that nobody beyond our borders understands. We do not worry because we have no ambition to “impose” ourselves on others. We are happy to live our introverted fairytale.

In fact, we Danes are so accustomed to seeing the world in a political correct way and so scared to step on anyone’s toes that we have grown indifferent, almost oblivious, to the diverse reality of our globe, where conflicting values and beliefs are becoming more apparent than ever.

Our childlike desire for a world in which we all “just get along” blew up before us in February 2006. That is when the cartoon controversy erupted. A Danish newspaper published twelve depictions of the Prophet Muhammad in an attempt to demonstrate how the country’s media self-censor when it comes to covering Islam.

A provocative decision? Yes. But the fallout, dramatically fueled by the tribalism of some Muslim Danes and the xenophobia of some non-Muslim Danes, produced the unimaginable. Danish embassies in the Middle East were torched; Danish goods were boycotted across the Arab region; riots broke out in the streets and our self-perception as a peace-loving, innocent nation evaporated overnight.

In the blink of an eye, my land of birth had become the symbolic battleground of moral conflict between the Western and Islamic worlds. The fierce clash between freedom of speech and defamation of religion chilled me. I found myself confused.

On the one hand, I was ashamed, blaming myself as a Dane for “allowing” this to happen. Liberal rhetoric placed all responsibility on the offending newspaper and the venomous environment towards Muslims in Denmark.

In truth, that explanation didn’t convince me because I perceived freedom of speech as a cardinal and indisputable cornerstone of democracy. It is something that should be defended at all costs. Yet this position was most vociferously championed by the anti-immigrant party whose extreme politics I despised!

Sensing no middle ground, 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. As an aspiring and ambitious public servant, I left my homeland to assume an internship at United Nations Headquarters in New York. In a great stroke of luck, I landed in the Department of Political Affairs, which – I was told – is one of the most interesting spots in the myriad of offices and divisions at UN HQ.

Having spent what remained of my shattered budget on a proper suit, shirt and tie, I was euphoric to begin working inside the sky-blue windows of the grand UN complex. From my shabby cubicle on the 33rd floor of the 38-story building, I could see that the windows were actually filthy on the inside.

But I was not there for the view. I was there to prove myself; to show everyone, including me, that I possessed the character to work for an authoritative multinational organization that embodies the universal values of human dignity…

Next: Part two of Terkel’s essay, as he steps into the United Nations — and onto a minefield of ethical questions. Stay tuned.

Star of the show

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Announcements on May 12, 2009

How’s this for something cool: One of my star pupils, Kate Otto, has been selected as THE student speaker at NYU’s massive graduation ceremony on Wednesday. She tells me that “there will definitely be mentions of moral courage…”

I’ve blogged about Kate before. She’s a remarkable thinker and social activist who’ll soon be re-locating to Indonesia for a year. My ambassador to the world’s largest Muslim country has just been hired! (Her payment? A copy of the Indonesian translation of The Trouble with Islam Today.)

Also speaking at Wednesday’s ceremony will be Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. But you can bet that the show-stealer will be a young voice of moral courage.

Kate’s speech will be webcast LIVE from Yankee Stadium. Log on here around 11:15 Eastern Standard Time. If you want to catch the entire ceremony, get online at 9:30 am EST.

Obama and Pakistan: Change he can’t believe in

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts on May 06, 2009

Today, Pakistan’s president drops in on America’s. Forced smiles and fine gifts will be exchanged, but stern words will also have to be.

Asif Ali Zardari, the Pakistani leader, seems more interested in demonizing India than in defeating the Taliban. Barack Obama can’t afford to humor such misplaced priorities.

How difficult will it be for him to extract serious change out of his Pakistani peer, fair-weather ally and duly elected, deeply compromised pain-in-the-neck?…

Read my full commentary in the Toronto Globe and Mail.

The future of progressive Islam: My Newsweek.com exclusive

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Announcements on May 01, 2009

Faces of progressive Islam in Indonesia (April 2008)

With the media focused on Pakistan, Afghanistan and Iran, it’s easy to assume that progressive Islam has no hope in hell.

But if you read this blog regularly, you know that I highlight reformist Muslim voices at every turn. As I said to my Facebook fans a few days ago, “Let’s bring Islam’s reformists out of the shadows and give the world much-needed hope.”

Now, Newsweek.com is featuring my latest essay about the future of progressive Islam. Here’s the opener:

At a recent event in India, I asked Pakistan’s former president, Pervez Musharraf, whether he would support his country’s tireless human rights activists. He invited me to pose a different question. I didn’t.

“Sit down!” the retired army general then ordered.

Things probably won’t get that tense when Pakistan’s current president, Asif Ali Zardari, visits Barack Obama next week. But maybe they should, given the Taliban’s growing reach and Zardari’s plunging cred. The two presidents will be joined by a third, Hamid Karzai of Afghanistan, a religious “moderate” who routinely barters away the rights of women and minorities to warlords and mullahs.

As a reform-minded Muslim, I admit that these guys make the notion of diversity in my faith look laughable. Their track records underscore why, to fathom the future of progressive Islam, we have to venture beyond the geo-political hotspots…”

Read my entire Newsweek.com essay.

And remember to comment! My favorite reactions so far:

“I take offense at the recent push to recognize this heinous belief. You can stick it up where the sun dont shine! This insidious machinations of corrupted minds and manipulative skulduggery is reprehensible. Go away!”

Another reader echoes this statement by commenting, “Ban Islam worldwide and any of the other cults posing as religion that oppress their followers or use force in any way to promote their garbage!” To which the mischievously named Osama Bin Login replies, “Does anyone else see the irony in that statement?”

Personally, I don’t see the irony in insisting that violent cults be expunged — by force if diplomacy fails.  How else would Nazism have been defeated? We should never tolerate persistent intolerance for the sake of “inclusion,” as that only legitimizes the exclusion practiced by those whom we’re bending over backwards to accommodate. Osama bin Login loses me on that score.

But unlike the reader who wants to “ban Islam,” I believe that a tolerant, humane and rational version of Islam is possible.  Indeed, my Newsweek.com feature gives a real-world example, which apparently escaped the reader’s radar. “Ban Islam” proves the old adage that people hear what they want to hear.

We all come to the table with prejudices — some, to be sure, more dangerous than others.

Defeating Islamophobia

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Apr 25, 2009

A few days ago, I wrote about Aska. She’s a university student in Poland who wonders how to combat Islamophobia. Specifically, what can she tell her friends and teachers who seem to believe that Muslims are inherently arrogant and misogynist hell-raisers? Read the beginnings of my response.

Of course, I affirm the humanity of Muslims. But I won’t romanticize Islam or sanitize how we widely practice it. The fact is, Muslims can be remarkably arrogant when accounting for the human rights abuses that we inflict on each other, never mind how we so often treat those outside of the ummah (global Muslim community).

Rather than own our dysfunction, we reflexively blame America, Israel, Christianity, materialism, MTV, McDonald’s, and the ever-convenient Jews. An equally popular coping mechanism is to remain mute about our self-inflicted shortcomings, for fear of damaging relations with our higher-ups — be they parents, imams, or even secular leaders of our communities.

Bottom line: Our prickly defensiveness stops Muslims from presenting ourselves as complex, multi-dimensional beings. In effect, we’re conspiring against ourselves, giving Aska and other non-Muslim allies precious little ammo to confront bona fide bigots.

So how can this young woman of good will persuade her peers and educators that Muslims are capable of both humility and humanity?

The key, I believe, is to promote the voices of reform-minded Muslims. These people remain faithful to the just ideals of Islam, but acknowledge the trouble with Muslims today. (Hmmm… “The Trouble with Muslims Today.” What a great idea for a book title!)

Reform-minded Muslims struggle not so much with Islam as with the fear that comes from speaking truth to power within Islam.

When publicizing their sincere struggles, we send two messages: First, Muslims who value reason and freedom actually exist. Second, they deserve to be brought out of the shadows — for everyone’s education.

Here, then, are the words of three reform-minded Muslims who wrote to me after Aska emailed her question about fighting Islamophobia. Their words are the antidote to anti-Islam prejudices on the part of non-Muslims, and anti-modern biases on the part of Muslims:

* “I read The Trouble with Islam Today and I can’t tell you how much of an eye-opener it was for me, the muslim woman, who was raised with fear of the dad, the teacher and God. For the first time, the things I was brought up not questioning became questionable. I started thinking and reasoning facts, I’m 37, too late in life, I know, and I just wish I read it earlier…

There’s turmoil now in my brain, and I’m glad there is. I still can’t help relating every small bad thing that happened to me to God’s wrath for something I’ve done, though I’m very innocent. I’ve always lived by the book and did the right thing. I guess fear is so embedded in my soul and hopefully one day, I’ll get rid of it.” - Mona El Samaty, Egypt

* “I have come to know about your mission to resuscitate the true spirit of Islam [as] a voice of sanity in this psychopathic world of biases. Being in Pakistan with an inquisitive head on my shoulders, I have some idea of the travails that you have chosen to face…

We have a female breed here which seems to buy constrictive dogmatic notions to such a degree that it takes the likes of me, arguing in favour their liberation, for which I am seen as less faithful and even immoral. Moreover, the biased way in which our mothers treat their male and female children, makes me dare propound that today it’s more the ‘women against women’ than the ‘men against women’, at least in Pakistan.

I really feel sad when I see that the practices in Islam, rather than giving the courage and confidence to live a free and inquisitive life, renders most of my fellow-religionists to live as ‘born’ cowards. I call them born cowards because the religio-cultural training behind this in our societies starts right from the moment of the birth.

Respected Ms. Manji, people like you serve as a source of energy for the ones like me, living in Muslim states, who cannot afford to ’speak out loud’. I tried to, but I was made to realize that I would offend many and win almost none, with harassment being the cherry on the top. May Allah always bless you with the best, and bless me with the courage to stand up like you have chosen to.” - Muhammad Khurram Yaqub, Lahore, Pakistan.

* “Thanks so much for posting the reformist translation of the Quran. I’ve been searching for an English translation that makes sense. I converted 7 years ago and the basic faith principles were appealing, but I quickly learned that my views were NOT accepted by mainstream muslims. I wondered if I really was muslim?

But I always thought that the hadiths [reported words and deeds of the Prophet] were a bunch of lies made up by men with beards and that religion can be often contorted by man, so I felt like at some point I will have more clarity and I should stick with my gut feeling.

Now I have some material to read and help me interpret the Qur’an. Keep posting great things on your site, I will be checking often.” - Julie, USA

These are the Muslims whom Aska should bring to the attention of her university friends and teachers. They are the Muslims who speak to the corrupt reality of contemporary Islam, while holding fast to the ideals for which Islam once stood — and, in its best moments, still does.

Above all, these are the Muslims whom other Muslims should support if they’re frustrated with being framed through one lens. Mona, Muhammad and Julie are proof positive of the diversity within our faith, if only we allowed ourselves to express it. Out Loud.

The first step to fighting Islamophobia is that we Muslims must stop stereotyping ourselves.

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