on the road

“Other” people’s business — not

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on Jul 24, 2008

Irshad with Eleanor Smeal, President of the Feminist Majority, which alerted America to the Taliban’s human rights abuses. (Photo: Talton Gibson)

As I explained in my previous blog entry, so much moral and legal confusion is infecting humanity’s shared journey to justice because of artificial notions about “us” and “them.” Sad thing is, many these notions are coming from my tribe — progressives.

Take the idea of cultural relativism. It’s the belief that there’s no universal standard of human dignity or human decency and consequently what “other people” do is none of “our” business.

Western feminists are especially vulnerable to this idea because they want to be seen as culturally sensitive to minorities. But should they stay silent when the traditions and norms of any minority reinforce the patriarchy that feminism is meant to oppose?

Are Western feminists being imperialists by speaking out about the oppression of women in societies beyond their own?

In an interdependent world, is there such a thing as “other” people’s business?

These are among the questions I addressed in a speech to America’s largest gathering of feminists, the National Organization for Women. Here are highlights:

It’s a privilege to be living in a democracy, where we have the precious freedoms to think, express, challenge and be challenged. As feminists, we know the power of voice. My question to you is: Will we make the choice to do more with our voice?

What I’m about to say might leave some of you uncomfortable. It might even leave some of you angry. Fine. Being unified is not about being uniform. Unity is about working for a common goal yet feeling free to express diversity of thought in pursuit of that goal.

And what should our common goal be today? I propose defending the universality of human rights. Why do I emphasize “universality”? Because around the world, a contest is raging between the rights of individuals and the so-called rights of cultures.

In Sydney, Australia, the Catholic Church has the won “right” not to be offended this entire month.

Throughout July, Sydney police have new powers to arrest and punish anybody who causes annoyance to participants of the Vatican-sponsored World Youth Day, even if annoyance is inflicted merely by wearing a T-Shirt with an irritating message. Penalties include partial strip searches and fines of more than $5,000. All in the name of cultural rights.

In Britain, Muslim lobbyists — egged on by a handful of non-Muslim church leaders, judges and politicians — are quietly seeking to introduce Sharia law, or Islamic law, also in the name of cultural rights.

Three years ago, a campaign to introduce Sharia almost succeeded in my own country of Canada. The first people to speak up against this manipulation of multiculturalism were Muslim women.

But they found that too many non-Muslim women were afraid to join them. Afraid, that is, of being called racists for getting involved in “other” people’s business. Remember when that was said about domestic violence — that it’s other people’s business?

Fear produces not just a lack of feminist unity, but also a lack of feminist integrity. How can we stay quiet about the abuse of women under most forms of religious law, including Sharia law? If feminists still view patriarchy as global (and I think we do unless I missed a memo), then differences in culture should not compel us to hit the mental mute button whenever Muslim men start speaking…

Another example of human rights getting trounced by culture: honor killings. The United Nations reports 5,000 honor killings worldwide every year — and that’s just the documented ones.

In 2006, I spoke at a major gathering of Amnesty International members. There, I met with Pakistani delegates who showed me, through case reports, that in their country alone, in the preceding year alone, at least 1,000 women had been killed for allegedly violating their family’s honor.

One thousand! As a Pakistani delegate pointed out to me, that’s twice the number of detainees at Guantanamo Bay. Non-Muslim feminists have been outspoken about human rights abuses at Gitmo. Honor crimes have not generated nearly so much condemnation.

Why?

Even serious speeches need fun moments. (Photo: Liz Newbury)

Too many of us are scared of being labeled “outside agitators” — you know, imperialists — for getting involved in “other” people’s business. And to rationalize our fears, we’re creating a religion of our own: the Church of Cultural Relativism.

The doctrine of this Church insists that there’s no universal standard of human decency or human dignity. Therefore, anything goes as long as it doesn’t affect me or my children.

But in an interdependent world, there’s no such thing “other” people’s business. What happens thousands of miles away sooner or later catches up to our children.

In September 1996, the Taliban began amputating the hands of women merely for flashing a patch of skin as they tried to pay for meat over a butcher’s counter. Back then, such amputations amounted to “other” people’s business.

A few morally courageous women and men, including some in America, tried to stop the Taliban. But they didn’t receive nearly enough help from the privileged. Us. Myself included.

Exactly five years later — September 2001 — “other” people’s business became our business…

Please understand, I’m not trying to over-dramatize the already dramatic. I’m trying to learn from the history of social justice.

Martin Luther King Jr. himself was labeled an “outside agitator” by eight liberal clergymen in Alabama. In his now-famous Letter from a Birmingham Jail, which he addressed to these clergymen, Rev. King confronted the realities of interdependence.

He said, “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial ‘outside agitator’ idea.”

Since Rev. King wrote those words, citizenship has become that much more global. So let me suggest an additional nugget of King-like wisdom for our time: Never again can we live with the assumption that just because human beings are born equal, cultures are too.

Cultures are not born. Cultures are constructed. Which means there’s nothing sacred about cultures and therefore nothing sacrilegious, blasphemous, or unthinkable about seeking to reform the most oppressive aspects of cultures.

Will we offend? Yep. Is our offense a source of tension? You bet. Is tension the price of justice? Ask Rev. King.

In that same Letter from a Birmingham Jail, he wrote that the greatest barrier to African-American liberation is not the transparent racist; it’s the tepid progressive. It’s the person who fancies herself forward-looking, but who prefers what King called “negative peace,” which is the absence of tension, over “positive peace,” which is the presence of justice.

This point, made in the context of the battle for domestic civil rights, has stunning parallels to today’s struggle for universal human rights.

For more about my commitment to universal human rights, read up on my work with the European Foundation for Democracy.

The anti-death threat

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on Jun 23, 2008

June 2008: Leaving Germany’s Council on Foreign Relations. Which one is my bodyguard? Guess again. (Photo: Ann Snyder)

In my previous post, I asked you to sign a statement against death threats. Now this from a reader:

“I am sending you the anti-death threat. This is a life wish. I wish you much happiness and joy in your life, and I hope that you will live long enough to see some of the change that you advocate for.” - Beth

The “life wish.” What a great antidote to the death threat.

It’s gotten me thinking about what we, as humans, instinctively focus on when we celebrate courage. So often — maybe too often — we lionize those who are killed in the pursuit of justice: Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, Robert F. Kennedy, John F. Kennedy, Joan of Arc, Dietrich Bonhoeffer…

But what about those who fight injustice and survive? Aren’t the survivors at least as important as the martyrs? After all, survivors show us that our choice is not between living and dying, but between living and lying.

Dr. Susan Neiman, a philosopher who runs the Berlin-based Einstein Forum, recently wrote about this theme. She says that in commemorating the Holocaust, Germany “has chosen its resistance heroes, and it has chosen them wrong.

Every child here knows the names of Hans and Sophie Scholl, college students who were guillotined for distributing anti-Nazi pamphlets. Tom Cruise has added his fame to a new film about Claus Schenk von Stauffenberg, the oft-sung leader of a group of officers hanged for their failed attempt on Hitler’s life.

The courage of such people should not be forgotten, but the message their stories convey is grim: their deeds cost them their lives, and accomplished nothing. It’s a message that comforts the millions of Germans who didn’t try to oppose the regime.”

That’s a crucial point. Martyrdom in pursuit of the greater good may inspire us, but the inspiration lasts for a flash. Then we return to our daily existence, either relieved that we’re off the hook for doing nothing or depressed that doing “something” means dancing with death.

It doesn’t have to be that way. Dr. Neiman tells the story of a little-known yet highly successful act of resistance against Hitler’s henchmen:

“In 1943, when the Nazis were undecided about whether to deport and murder Jewish spouses of non-Jews, they tested the waters by rounding up nearly 2,000 Jewish men whose non-Jewish wives had already withstood considerable government pressure to divorce them.

These wives spontaneously gathered in front of the building in Rosenstrasse where their husbands were being held. For one long week they refused to leave the little square in central Berlin, despite the Gestapo machine guns trained upon them.

It’s often said that non-violent resistance worked for Gandhi and Martin Luther King because their oppressors were civilized; the governments of Britain and the United States could be bested by the moral courage of their opponents, while totalitarian regimes simply shoot them. This not only underestimates the evils of racism, but also our possibilities of combating them.

For in Berlin’s Rosenstrasse, the police backed down. The men were released. They and their families survived. And in a country that devotes so much time and energy to commemorating the victims, these brave women remain anonymous; all that really marks their story is a small, clay-colored memorial in a park that few Berliners know.

Seeing it moves many to tears. But what’s tragic are not these heroes, but the fact that there were not more. Others were deterred less by Nazi terror than by a much older message: heroic action is futile, and mostly ends in death, besides.

After all these years, isn’t it time to send a message to Germany’s children — and everyone else’s — that will help them stand up against present evils as well as mourning past ones?”

Bravo.

That’s why a few months after my book came out, I ditched my bodyguards. The death threats continue to this day, but I stand by my decision. If I’m going to convince young Muslims that it’s possible to challenge dogma and live, I can’t have a big burly guy (or gal) looking out for me everywhere I go.

So far, so good. I’m still alive (yes, it really is me blogging). More than that, every once in a while I hear from a young Muslim who says he or she wants to help the campaign for ijtihad because “you’re sincere.”

Translation: Despite the death threats, this mission for Muslim reform isn’t driven by a messiah complex or the glamour of danger. It’s driven by gratitude for the freedoms that most of our globe doesn’t yet have.

So I intend to keep living — and living on my feet as a free woman, not on my knees as a cloistered damsel in dissent.

Which brings me back to my petition against death threats. From Indonesia to Venezuala, from Syria to Malaysia to India to America, from Kabul to Istanbul, a lot of you have recently signed. To see all the new names, cities and countries, click here and scroll down.

Keep adding your signatures, if not for yourselves then for the generations to whom you’re bequeathing this planet.

When Beth sent me the “anti-death threat,” she added this: “I have a 14-year-old daughter whom I very much want to form her own opinions and feel empowered to impact the world around her.” The anti-death threat might achieve that for millions more children.

Mullah malpractise

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on May 04, 2008

Signing books at one of Indonesia’s biggest universities

The best ideas can be stated simply and clearly. You’ll love this one: malpractise suits against hateful mullahs.

Let me explain.

Last week, at one of Indonesia’s biggest universities, I spoke about the need to renew ijtihad, Islam’s own tradition of independent thinking, debate and re-interpretation. Two well-known scholars joined me. To my surprise, both agreed that ordinary Muslims, not just religious authorities, have the right and responsibility to exercise ijtihad. It’s when ordinary Muslims think for ourselves that we keep God’s self-appointed ambassadors honest.

During the Question and Answer session, a woman from the local Islamic political party disputed our call to democratize ijtihad. When she needs her teeth fixed, she said, she goes to a certified dentist, not some shmo (or Mo) spreading the gospel of indie thinking.

I must tell you that I hear the dentist analogy all the time. While it’s unoriginal, it’s also effective among Muslims who equate creativity with scientific formulas. Effective, that is, until now.

One of the professors on my panel responded to the woman this way:

When dentists and doctors harm people with their decisions, they can be sued for malpractise. Sister, if you’re going to liken religious authorities to medical professionals, then Muslims should have the right to sue mullahs when their conclusions harm people. And, in effect, that’s what Irshad Manji is doing by exposing their damage in the court of international public opinion.

Direct. Concise. Logical. Maybe too logical: The woman left before the Q & A ended.

Although I’ll never know her response, I do challenge the critics who read this site to send me their replies.

Meanwhile, don’t forget to floss.

As you’re doing that, enjoy my Indonesia photo album.

Way beyond Mecca

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on Apr 30, 2008

In Indonesia, the book tour comes to an Islamic boarding school

Read my earlier newsletter from Indonesia and you’ll know that I’m on a mini-mission. I’m out to educate Western journalists about why they should look past the Arab world for signs of where Islam is heading.

In this spirit, let me draw your attention to a New York Times essay that compares my approach to Muslim reform with that of Ayaan Hirsi Ali. It’s an exquisitely crafted piece: respectful to each of us — neutral without lapsing into limpness. An impressive balance.

That said, I take issue with the author’s suggestion that our “most sympathetic audiences are probably Western” because neither Ayaan nor I has a “significant Muslim constituency in the Middle East.” Such a statement implies that Arabs are the only Muslims who matter.

Fact is, fewer than 20% of Muslims worldwide are Arab! Which means more than 80% of us are non-Arab. Shouldn’t media be asking how non-Arabs — the vast majority of Islam’s universe — are responding to ideas about religious reform?

Having just wrapped my book tour in Indonesia, I can help answer that question by sharing one of my favorite moments: I was invited to present my ideas at a pesantren — an Indonesian Islamic boarding school. (Notice the basketball court for girls, and the Chicago bulls backboard.)

Through my translator, I emphasized to the students that their uniquely Indonesian voices are needed more than ever. Indonesia represents the possibility for new Muslim leadership — the kind that replaces desert Arabia’s tribal mindset with a love of diversity.

Moreover, I said, the time to assert Indonesian diversity is now. Why? Not only because Saudi influences are on the rise, but also because so much of the world is thirsting for an alternative to the us-versus-them mentality of the tribe.

Witness America, struggling with itself to replace George W. Bush’s “you’re with us or you’re with the terrorists” attitude. If Americans now believe that they need a different vision, and they’re willing to challenge themselves to achieve it, what should stop Muslims from accepting the same challenge for ourselves?

Think about it this way, I proposed to the students: Barack Obama emerged from nowhere to be the champion of change. Even if he doesn’t become America’s president this time, his call for reform has been heard far and wide. It has framed the campaign. It has galvanized the silent (or silenced) masses. Young Indonesians, out of “nowhere,” can become the Muslim world’s Obama.

I reminded them that historically, the most compelling ideas have come from the periphery, not the center! Remember, too, that Indonesia is a democracy, with all of democracy’s flaws, but at least it gives citizens far more freedoms than Arab dictatorships do.

So, I concluded to the students, use your freedoms of thought, expression and conscience to imagine a fresh future for Islam — and for humanity. Then use digital media to circulate your ideas worldwide. Don’t worry about being agreed with; just spark the debate. And when you do, you’ll be showing reform-minded Muslims everywhere that they’re not alone.

At the end of our session, a gaggle of girls surrounded me to ask questions, shake hands and snap photos. One of them (ok, I’ll fess up: the one in the pink scarf) said — in slow and deliberate English — “I am so inspired now. Thank you, Wonder Woman.”

Wonder Woman! It’s not the compliment that I embraced; it’s the fact that this girl signaled, through a shared pop cultural reference, that you can withstand the bullets coming your way if you really believe in justice.

Inspired, in turn, by these young women, I went with them to visit fellow students in the dorms. The pictures below show you the warmth of the reception I got.

One of my adult hosts at the pesantren, an Indonesian scholar named Hindun Annisa, later escorted me to the boys’ side. Hindun and I had bonded earlier in the day. She served on a panel to discuss my film, Faith Without Fear, with 350 students at one of Indonesia’s largest universities.

Hindun pointed out to the students that Muslim theologians who talk about “Islamic” history usually mean “Arab” history, which is among the reasons that Indonesian thinking need not march in lockstep with that of the Middle East.

After my tour of the pesantren, Hindun’s mother — who lives at the school as its principal of sorts — invited me to come back.

I suspect it’s because Indonesians are relieved to hear a Western Muslim “get” their reality (or care about it at all) that my constituency in their country is growing big-time: Indonesia is now the third largest source of hits to this website. Currently, more site visitors are coming from Jakarta than from any other city in the world.

Question to media: Just because I don’t get love-bombed like this in the Middle East, is it fair to say that my sympathizers are Western? What are Indonesians? Chopped liver?

Hell, for the future of Islam, Indonesia might be more important than any other Muslim state. That’s for two demographic reasons: First, Indonesia alone has about as many Muslims as the entire Middle East. Second, its 300 ethnicities and scores of languages capture the pluralism of Islam’s believers with an accuracy that the Middle East simply can’t.

Look, by no means am I implying that we should dismiss Arab Muslims. God knows I don’t. That’s why I’ve translated my book into Arabic and posted it on this site for free-of-charge download. To date, there have been 300,000 downloads — never mind how that number explodes when you include the Urdu, Persian and Malay downloads. None of these languages is “Western” either.

The Prophet Muhammad reportedly encouraged a perpetual search for knowledge, even if that means going as far as China. I think he’d be equally supportive of going to Indonesia. (Similar time zones!)

Sure, for Muslim reform to gain traction, an audience in the Middle East matters. But not to the exclusion of everywhere else.

Here’s my Indonesia photo album – with many more pics to come. Give me time to get over my jet lag, would you?

Launching my book in the world’s biggest Muslim country

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road, Announcements on Apr 24, 2008

You heard me right: the biggest Muslim country anywhere. Indonesia, baby. That’s where I am to release The Trouble with Islam Today.

That’s also where my publisher presented me with a meaningful poster: “Silence is no longer an option.” Well, it’s never been with me. Now we can say the same about Jakarta!

Three hundred human rights activists, journalists and students attended. Not everybody came to express support, but isn’t civil dissent exactly the point of this mission for Muslim reform and moral courage?

You can learn more about my Indonesian launch through the newsletter that I’ve sent to my personal mailing list. If you want to subscribe, look for the “Get Updates” box on the right-hand side of this page.

Meanwhile, enjoy more moments from Indonesia…

Faith Without Fear launches Muslim film festival

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road, Announcements on Apr 14, 2008

Scene from “Faith Without Fear” showing me in a Yemeni classroom

Tonight in Boston, there won’t be a tea party.  But there will be an event that’s revolutionary in its own way: the American Islamic Congress is launching its first ever Muslim Film Festival — and my documentary, Faith Without Fear, kicks it off.

The festival highlights “think different women.” That means women on the front lines of reform, from Lebanon to Darfur. Featured films star Muslim female karate champions, women running for political office in Iran and Afghanistan, and Senegalese women using hip-hop as a way to transcend tribal politics. Fierce.

The American Islamic Congress is a civil rights organization working to end negative perceptions about Muslims. But not by playing victim. Instead, the AIC demands that Muslims lead by example. They recognize that we Muslims must champion social justice and pluralism within our own communities –- even at great personal risk.

Because the American Islamic Congress practices moral courage, I happily accepted their invitation to launch this year’s festival with my doc.

Faith Without Fear is being screened tonight at 6:30 pm at Boston University. I also invite you to stick around for the post-film discussion. Taking your questions on Muslim reform and moral courage will be Raquel Evita Saraswati, the coordinator of my charitable foundation, Project Ijtihad.

The event is free and open to the public. Click here for more information.

And to whet your appetite, watch selected clips of Faith Without Fear on my official YouTube channel.

In the spirit of the festival, thank you for thinking.

Heresies, misfits and a film called Fitna

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on Mar 29, 2008

Wait! Before you send me another link to Geert Wilders’ film, Fitna, let me assure you that I get the hint. You want me to watch it. I now have. And you want me to comment on it. I soon will. Check this space over the coming days for my review.

Meanwhile, I’m in Atlanta, ground zero of America’s civil rights movement. Atlanta could also become a crucible for Islam’s burgeoning reform movement.

This weekend, Muslim misfits are convening here to participate in “A Celebration of Heresy: Critical Thinking for Islamic Reform.” Yep, we proudly deem ourselves heretics — dissidents who work from inside the traditions of Islam. As our conference’s website declares:

Any dissenting idea against the prevailing religious traditions is generally considered heresy. Jesus was accused of heresy by the Jewish high council and handed over to the occupying Romans to be executed. Abraham was thrown into a fiery furnace for heresy, but saved by God. Muhammad, who criticized “the way of their fathers” — slavery, aggression, financial exploitation, racism and xenophobia — was a dangerous heretic according to the tribal courts of Mecca… Heretical ideas have tested the tolerance of a society and in many cases have created the fuel of progress, particularly in the area of religion.

Our conference opened on Friday night. To my ears, the most powerful sentiments came from Fereydoun Taslimi, an Iranian-American who helped created the Noor Foundation. In Arabic, “noor” means “light.”

How fitting for a Muslim misfit. According to Taslimi, “dissent is an act of faith… Discussing abuses of power in Islam does not make Islam inferior to any of the other religions. On the contrary, it shows that we have a level of confidence in our beliefs that allows us to confront these issues squarely and constructively.”

To the inevitable critics, he offered this gem: The Quran tells us that you shall not accept any information unless you verify it for yourself (17:36).

This means relying on lived experience as much as on scholarly theories. Since the conference participants come from around the world — Iran, Egypt, Sudan, Turkey, the Netherlands, Canada, America, Trinidad and India — lived experiences will differ. Therefore, interpretations will too.

That’s as it should be if we’re going to replace intellectual conformity with diversity of thought in the practice of Islam. What binds us all is a rejection of religious violence and a commitment to freedom of expression.

So how would we deal with the film, Fitna? I don’t yet know, but I hope we debate such things over the weekend.

At the conference opening, a Dutch delegate reported that the debut of Wilders’ movie was “a flop.” He promised to share more with us on Saturday. You can follow the conference LIVE.

As for my own take on Fitna? Coming soon.

Read about the morally courageous intellectual who inspired this heresy conference.

The “who the hell are you?” hand grenade

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on Mar 23, 2008

Packing the hall to discuss Islam and democracy at Syracuse U. (Photo: David Medeiros)

Maybe it was the full house. Or the hot lights. Or my multi-media approach. Then again, it could have been my deliberate use of humor to make difficult conversations less threatening and more engaging for people of varied backgrounds.

Whatever the reason, I recently got scolded at Syracuse University. There, during a sold-out screening of my film, the chair of religion accused me of putting on a “rock star” performance.

Frankly, I took that as a compliment. After all, the topic was “Islam and Democracy: Do They Have a Prayer?” How could I be elitist in communicating the potential to reconcile Islam and democracy? As a faithful Muslim and an observant democrat, wouldn’t I have integrity showing that scholarship should be accessible to ordinary people?

Not to my critic, who complained about never having been invited to appear on CNN. Bingo! In alleging that I’m a “rock star,” she meant to dismiss my credibility. The esteemed professor succeeded in revealing her own snobbery.

Over years of advocating for Muslim reform, I’ve noticed that frustrated academics silence reform-minded Muslims by hurling the “who-the-hell-are-you?” hand grenade. Funny thing is, history abounds with individuals who had no legitimacy in established circles but who pressed forward.

Socrates is a screaming example. His refusal to shrink and slink away ultimately produced a student known as Plato. Not bad for a self-educated lover of questions.

Then there’s Baruch Spinoza, among the greatest modern voices of religious toleration. If we can applaud him for being banished from Holland’s Jewish community by the rabbis, we can be equally impressed that he worked as a grinder of glass.

Closer to our own time, consider Albert Einstein. For years, he toiled as a patent clerk but didn’t let that stop him from publishing some of his scientific masterpieces. Self-appointed arbiters of authority dismissed Einstein at first.

Maybe my favorite example of maverick legitimacy is Rosa Parks, who stayed in her seat on a bus when a white man told her to move back. She didn’t defy him out of naivete; she’d calculated her decision for maximum moral impact. You could call her a tactician extraordinaire.

And who was Rosa, anyway? A seamstress. A tailor’s assistant. By today’s career standards, a veritable nobody. Yet a simple and strategic act of conscience, animated by a love of justice, made her the mother of America’s civil rights movement.

At Rosa’s funeral, another “unqualified” upstart spoke. His name is Barack Obama.

Which brings me back to the struggle of reform-minded Muslims today. I’m by no means the only one who faces the who-the-hell-are-you hand grenade. So does Zia Sardar, a British Muslim, journalist and public intellectual who blogs about the Qur’an from his liberal point of view.

Not long ago, Sardar responded to a fellow Muslim who accused him of lacking the proper tools and thus interpreting the Qur’an for “mere five minutes of fame.” Sardar’s response should be read fully; here’s a taste:

“In the end, the issue of authority comes down to power and territory. For too long, a group of narrow-minded, ill-educated elite have usurped the power to comment on the Qur’an and defended this territory with the rhetoric of fire and brimstone. It is time ordinary Muslims took this power back to where it belongs: with all Muslims, whatever their background, whatever their state of knowledge…

Rather than being told what to think, concerned Muslims everywhere need to get back to the religious duty of actively participating in interpretation — which can only come from lively debate.”

Supposedly inclusive professors can be no less dogmatic than puritan imams in defining the limits of legitimate conversation, let alone debate. As the chair of religion at Syracuse U announced, I’ve undone “decades” of scholarship in a 45-minute appearance!

While thrilled to wield such power, I’d rather use it to ask a question: Who needs conservative mullahs when you’ve got the progressive priests of academe?

But there I go again believing I’m allowed to question. She might wonder what gives me the right to speak. I wonder what gives me the responsibility not to.

View the entire video of my rock star performance.

From Paris to New York

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on Feb 05, 2008

A full house in Paris to hear my debate about the role of women in Muslim reform. (Photo: Giordana Grego)

I’ve just returned home from Paris, where debates about Islam and feminism are raging — as you can see from all the women in the photo above. I’m the panelist in orange who’s reaching over. No, that’s not an attempt to lay a right hook on my debate opponent. (Although the debate did get scrappy.)

If you’d like to read or watch media coverage of the trip, click on these links:

* France’s newspaper of record, Le Monde;

* the popular cable television channel, France24; and

* 20 Minutes, a youth-oriented French daily.

Finally, if you’d like to receive advance notice of my public appearances overseas, sign up to my confidential and free mailing list. Here’s the bulletin I sent out about my latest Europe trip.

To receive future bulletins, scroll down to the “Get Updates” box on the right-hand side of this page and input your email address.

Bon. Salut!

Diversity needs to grow up

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, On The Road on Jan 30, 2008

On Thursday, I’ll be speaking at a girls school about the power of finding and using your voice.  Among the reasons I love engaging with students is that they can be the best teachers.  This isn’t feel-good rhetoric. It’s demonstrable truth.

Take the students at the Young Women’s Leadership Academy in Jamaica, Queens, a borough of New York City.  Last year, I spoke at their school in the same week that Don Imus made major news.  He’s the American radio talk show host who described a university women’s basketball team as “nappy-headed hos.”

African-American community “leaders,” along with feminist “spokeswomen,” bombarded TV channels with their counter-bombast.  It’s one thing to denounce Imus, who absolutely deserved the condemnation.  Quite another to announce that he made all young women of color feel like victims.  Upon hearing this claim for the umpteenth time, I took it to the girls in Jamaica, Queens.

Did they agree with those speaking on their behalf that they’ve been victimized?  Nope.  Quite the opposite. They asked a piercing question: Why would we let anybody, white or not, male or not, define who we are?  We’re not seeking his approval, so who’s to say that we’re victims because of something that he blurts?

To my ears, these students were implying (rather strongly) that they’re individuals, not property of the tribe. This is the essence of meaningful diversity.

Superficial diversity reduces all of us to external markers of race, religion, gender, sexual orientation and the like.  Far more meaningful to elevate ourselves to different ways of thinking. It’s high time to popularize the distinction between diversity of thought, which recognizes individuality, and diversity of appearance, which glorifies only the group.

What I’m celebrating here is not individualism. An individualist would state, “I’m out for myself, and I don’t care if my society benefits.” Someone who honors individuality holds that “I am myself, and my society benefits from my uniqueness.” It’s a far more honest approach to the common good than the us-versus-them slogan of many equality activists.

Social movement luminaries often play the politics of representation — “you can’t comment if you don’t represent.” Well, here’s breaking news: They don’t represent either.  They can’t. We can each only represent ourselves, and that’s why unique, authentic voices matter.

Even when you’re young and relatively poor, as the students in Queens are, you can be smart enough to get it.  I can’t wait to glean insights from the girls with whom I interact on Thursday.

A final note: Two week ago, I blogged about Rebecca, a 14-year-old Catholic student.  She wrote admiringly about my willingness to challenge those who pretend to speak in the name of all Muslims.

Rebecca told me that she chose to write a paper about my work. I teasingly asked her what grade she got. Having not heard back, I figured she’s sparing my feelings.

This just in: “I got a 95% on that assignment (which, might I add, was around seven pages long because I found that the required 2-3 pages would definitely not suffice in conveying your views…”

Rebecca, can I convince you to enter the media training business upon graduation?

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