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What Muslims can learn from the Pope’s U.S. tour

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Apr 20, 2008

When I ask Muslim-Americans what they appreciate most about living in this country, the answer usually comes back, “the First Amendment.” That’s the U.S. constitution’s guarantee of free worship, free assembly, free press and, ultimately, free speech.

This past week in America, Pope Benedict gave plenty of free speeches. We all expected him to be on his best behavior. But I hoped that his “best” would mean daring Americans of all faiths — Muslims, included — to use their constitutional freedoms and push their own religious leaders.

Push them to do what?  To speak up for the human rights of all, from Muslims facing genocide in Darfur to Buddhists fighting Chinese occupation in Tibet to Christians struggling for survival in Iraq. Delivered from the podium of the UN general assembly, what a message this would have sent on the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

His Holiness might even have celebrated American Catholics as an example of how constitutional liberties can elevate people of faith into people of conscience.

For years, Catholics in the U.S. have exercised their freedom of expression to defend the dignity of young parishioners who’ve been molested by priests. In short, they pushed their religious leaders to respect human rights.

They’ve finally succeeded: On his American tour, the Pope surprisingly — and repeatedly — acknowledged that the Church has abused Catholic children through sexual malfeasance and official silence. According to The New York Times, victims, many of them adults by now, may be getting more opportunities from the Vatican to report their experiences.

The moral of my story is simple. Full-bodied use of the First Amendment can compel a Pope once known as “God’s rotweiller” to reveal his deeply human conscience.

Muslim-Americans ought to follow the Catholic lead. And, having shown that he’s trying to practice what he preaches, the Pope should challenge them to do so. No doubt, many moderate mouthpieces of Islam would accuse Benedict of “offending” Muslim sensitivities. Let them howl.

The Pope’s past perceived slights against Islam have sparked new conversations between Muslims and Catholics. At seriously high levels, I might add: An open letter from 138 Muslim scholars, a response to it from numerous Christian authorities and, later this year, an unprecedented formal dialogue where the participants will be received by the Pontiff himself.

To be sure, I’m no fan of scripted inter-religious dialogues, which usually amount to heart-tugging, mind-numbing gestures of little impact and less consequence.

But I’m a huge partisan of unexpected conversations.

Which is exactly what I had in Rome a year and a half ago with Pope Benedict’s then-deputy for inter-religious affairs, Cardinal Paul Poupard. At one point, the Cardinal grabbed my hand and showed me around his personal library. The 76-year-old effused about his books like a child who’d just decorated his room with the funkiest glow-in-the-dark planets. I say that affectionately: Cardinal Poupard couldn’t contain his joy at hosting a young Muslim woman who shared his love of big ideas. It was utterly charming.

It was also sincere. On the day that I met him, he and the Pope had just arrived home from a diplomatic mission in Turkey. They wanted to mend fences after the global uproar over Benedict’s speech at Regensburg University, in which he quoted an obscure Byzantine emperor who thought Islam had nothing to offer civilization. (In a minute, I’ll link you to a statement I made about why I don’t share Muslim anger about those remarks.)

In the wake of a bridge-building breakthrough, and exhausted from the trip anyway, Cardinal Poupard could have canceled his appointment with a Muslim reformist. But he kept it. Truth is, I’m the one who had to beg off to make my next engagement! What can I tell you? I figured that my audience with the Cardinal would be 15 minutes of polite formalities. It became a hi-octane 90-minute exchange about the need for an intellectual renaissance in every faith, including that religion called atheism.

See my point about embracing unanticipated dialogues, even (or especially) when they emerge from “offensive” remarks?

With that in mind, here’s a TV commentary I delivered after the Pope’s controversial speech at Regensburg U. I’m addressing why, as a faithful Muslim, I don’t believe he should have to apologize for causing offense. Once you watch the video or read the text, tell me where you think I’ve gone wrong. Create a conversation where none would have existed before.

Meanwhile, may His Holiness continue to hear Catholic dissidents. In so doing, may he affirm that introspection is the enemy of dogma, not of faith.

Who are you… not to be unique?

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Mar 26, 2008

Tonight at New York University, I’m delivering a speech called “Faith Without Fear: Moral Courage in an Age of Conformity.” I’ll be discussing how ordinary people can develop the permission to defy orthodoxy in their own communities.

You got a sneak preview of the speech in my previous post. I pointed out that jealous, lazy or frustrated types often silence mavericks with the subtle sneer, “Who the hell are you?” Instead of challenging their personal insecurities (which would require honesty, God forbid), they’ll take the lazy route of making you feel insufficient.

Socrates and Einstein didn’t buy that age-old ploy. Why should you?

The point resonated. A sample of your comments:

* “I’m an Asian-American who never, ever wanted to do what all the ‘clever’ brown girls are supposed to, which is become physicians, attorneys and of course wives. Ever since childhood I’ve been asking myself, ‘Who the hell am I to think differently?’ You answered by reminding us all about self-educated, supposedly un-credentialed renegades like Socrates, Spinoza, Einstein, Rosa and Obama.

I’m now inspired to challenge some of my community’s prejudices, especially about women. But I know I’ll get backlash. It’s inevitable, right? Can you throw me a few more scraps to fortify my backbone?” - Priya

* “As a woman in a world where there’s so much negativity thrown at you, how do you find strength to not internalize it? Any pearls of wisdom you can offer other women living in similar worlds? I and my female colleagues are waiting with bated breathe for your response.” - Daniela, MA, CHRP

You betcha, babes.

First, here’s an excerpt from Martin Luther King Jr.’s final sermon, entitled “The Drum Major Instinct”:

“If you want to be important — wonderful. If you want to be recognized — wonderful. If you want to be great — wonderful. But recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant.

That’s a new definition of greatness. And this morning, the thing that I like about it: by giving that definition of greatness, it means everybody can be great, because everybody can serve.

You don’t have have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don’t have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don’t have to know Einstein’s theory of relativity to serve. You don’t have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve.

You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant.”

Now, how do you cultivate the confidence to be “great” when you’re not perfect — that is, when you know that your subject and verb won’t always agree?

I say, understand your fear in order to transcend it. Marianne Williamson nails this point in a counter-intuitive way:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

My advice: Put these sentiments into your own words so that you’re expressing a personal manifesto of moral courage. When they’re authentic, words won’t fail you. They’re already in you.

Go get ‘em — the words. And the world.

Learn more about the Moral Courage Project, which I’m directing at New York University.

Final chapter: your advice to GI Jane

Posted in Q & A on Mar 07, 2008

In Parts One and Two of the GI Jane series, you recognized the spirituality of this struggling American soldier in Iraq. She loves her country and its uniform, but also loves the foreign nation she’s come to occupy.

Can she help Iraqis while retaining her integrity?

Most of you have offered a resounding “Yes,” advising our soldier to work with children because they’re less judgmental than adults and more in need of tender kindness.

Now for your final pearls of advice — in equal measures practical and merciful:

* “I am Catholic. In the Catholic areas of Northern Ireland, many were surprised to learn that I could practise my faith while serving as a British soldier who also held the Queen’s Commission. I spent most days seeing to it that old people were cared for.

Like those I served, many Iraqis will judge you by your body language. If your heart and soul are set towards helping, then that will shine through. Little things matter: gentleness in voice and listening. Mainly listening. Be a planter of seeds and try not to pull them up while encouraging them to grow!” - Jim

* “I have lived and worked as a security officer in Kuwait, Qatar, Tunisia, Ivory Coast, Ghana and Algeria. I found for myself that this is what it means to treat people with respect:

1. When you drink bottled water, there should be enough to share with everybody in sight.

2. If there is a problem with local workers getting paid, you deal with it on their behalf. People will learn to trust you.

3. Listen. We as Americans must learn to be patient and listen more.

These tips do not build hospitals or schools, but we must build trust first.” - Marshall, US Navy USN retired (GMC)

* “The Army officer should transform her weakness into a strength. Language is a barrier, yes? Why doesn’t she start an Arabic-English language exchange? One day per week she could run conversational English classes for local youths. In turn, they contribute to a conversational Arabic class where she and her colleagues would be the students.

With increased ability to communicate, they could start to discuss ’simple’ topics such as local customs or impressions of foreign countries (not Iraq and not the US). Over time, she might be able to discuss the issues that are closer to her heart…” - CJ

Now for the last bit of advice. This comes from a Muslim who suggests that the way GI Jane can help Iraqis is by helping her fellow soldiers:

“Compassion for any life form seems to be one of the things the military tries to wring out of a human. The fact that this military woman has maintained and perhaps even developed a greater sense of compassion is refreshing. If she can spark more compassion in even one of the other military personnel, she will have graced this world in a way that we should all strive to do.

As mere humans, we tend to think we must save the world to truly effect change. All we have to do to accomplish this is reach out and relieve one suffering human in the slightest way. This woman is in a place that needs every last drop of compassion.” - Mariam

Shukran, one and all, for your wisdom.

More of your advice to the American soldier

Posted in Q & A on Mar 03, 2008

“GI Jane” is an American female soldier who struggles with Iraqi Arabic, her US military uniform and the assumption of many Arab men that, as a Western woman surrounded by male army officers, she’s a whore. Despite all of these challenges, she asked me for advice about how to help the people of Baghdad.

I turned GI Jane’s question over to you. What a response! Click here for Part One of your answers.

In this second installment, we begin with the advice of an Iraqi man who lives in America:

“My suggestion is that you try to help children as much as you can because the adults are mad as hell, as you stated. They will be, because their own country has been demolished around them. Put yourself in their shoes if you lost your fiancee or your child or your parents during the invasion.

Some of my family left everything behind because of that war. They live in Syria and no one, not one country, would give them a visa or help them to live life as it should be.

Now you know why they are mad. It’s got nothing to do with you being a non-Muslim Caucasian female.” - Ghesoon

But Connie, a former US soldier who lives in Egypt, disagrees with Ghesoon:

“Western and Eastern cultures ARE very different — and will likely always be so. But that doesn’t mean we have nothing in common.

I would suggest that this good-hearted soldier continue to love the people enough to talk to them. If they start treating her like a whore, be polite but firm… ‘I am NOT what you think I am. Would you talk to your mother this way? Your sister? What if you were my brother — would you want other men to treat me like this?’

In Egypt, I dress conservatively (not covered from head to toe, but not like a wild tourist either). Yet I will still sometimes hear men mutter the Arabic word for ‘whore’ as I pass by. I faced the same thing in Pakistan where everyone thought I must be an extra from Baywatch simply because I am American. I showed them that I was a good person, a good wife to my husband and a good mother to my children. People eventually accepted me, and even stood up for me when others were rude.

In short, I will not live up to the lowered expectations of those who are ignorant. The perception that many people have of Americans usually comes form TV and propaganda. It can be very sleazy and unreal, yet if that is all people see, then that is all they have.

Think about TV evangelists and freaky fundamentalists who try to convert you to their religion. They, too, are sleazy and unreal. It is a very distorted slice of a bigger whole. But when you see individuals from that same denomination performing acts of charity, really walking the talk, then you cannot help but feel warm towards them even if you are 100% not interested in joining their church.

Soldier, you are doing the right thing. Get out there, be yourself, and show the world what the reality is… and SMILE when you do it!” - Connie

Having heard from an Arab man living in America and an American woman living in Egypt, let’s now turn to a young Muslim with a Buddhist bent who lives in neither of these places. From his advice, we’ll see a patch of common ground emerge…

“Building bridges is hard in the best of times, let alone with a beleaguered, hostile, distrustful, war-wearied population. You’ve got a lot going against you. You’re a woman among many misogynists, in an American army uniform, striving to have a basic conversation in the local language.

It’s with these reality checks in mind that I write my three points.

First, while being a woman is a disadvantage in some respects, it’s an advantage in others. Many girls grow up with a mentality of fear that’s propagated by the community around them. You can bet that’s the case in a post-dictatorship Muslim country still mired in the throes of brutal violence.

Connecting in some way with a strong, determined, kind woman might make a huge difference to an Iraqi girl. No matter how modest the interaction might seem to you, it may be the opening of another reality for her, especially at a time when fear seems like the only truth.

Second, while your uniform is a disadvantage, it’s also an advantage. You have fellow soldiers who’ve got your back and might be able to bring some modicum of order to the chaos while you try to find your way to making a difference. Most Iraqis don’t have the privilege of that security, as you yourself point out.

Third, while you stumble over the language, and it is a definite barrier, kids don’t care about that. When adults are calling you a white whore, remember how the children see you. Kids, especially in times of trauma, can’t fake anything. Reach out to them.

On a closing note, I want you to know that I’m inspired by your determination.” - Shahid

What I’m inspired by is the level of dialogue — challenging, critical, self-critical, sometimes contentious, yet always constructive.

Coming up: the final installment of your advice to GI Jane.

Your advice to GI Jane - part one

Posted in Q & A on Feb 29, 2008

Last week, I posted a moving letter from a U.S. soldier in Iraq.  She has “fallen in love” with Baghdad and, in particular, its children.  She understands why Iraqis are “mad as Hell” at Americans yet wishes they’d direct more of their anger at the “right people” — locals who demolish Iraqi villages in the guise of resisting occupation.

Her question is this: “As a non-Muslim Caucasian female, in an American Army uniform, with just enough knowledge of Iraqi dialect to hold a simple conversation, what can I do to help? I want to just talk to Iraqis outright, but I’m not very good at speaking the language and I don’t think they’d listen to a white girl whom many of them assume is a whore…” 

A number of you have replied and in the coming days, I’ll post excerpts from your answers.  It only seems right to start with the response of an Arab woman living in the Middle East:

“Sister,

You letter touched my heart.  I live in Palestine, where I’m on an encounter on daily bases with ‘the other’ or ‘the enemy,’ Israeli male and female soldiers.  As soon as I read your words, I knew that I have something to share with you.

I was and still [am] one of the people who hated Saddam.  I was thankful that Iraqi people won’t have to live in fear under his dictatorship anymore. But I’m sorry to tell you that the majority of people there will continue to see you as the enemy.  This is an inherited pattern toward the West.  U.S. policies in Iraq, which screwed things up, reinforced that attitude ten folds.

I’m not trying to put all the blame on the West.  I realize this is a very destructive way of thinking, as there are many players in Iraq who are willing to burn it into ashes. On top of that list comes Iran and Al-Qaeda.  These forces are huge, so first and foremost I advise you to keep your expectations real.

Your intentions to see a phoenix rising from the ruins will definitely affect Iraqis’ attitude in one way or another, but not about being seen as a whore.  I know it’s awful.  I have a British friend who has been working with NGOs for two years here in Palestine.  The other day she was telling me how often she gets abused and harassed by taxi  drivers because she’s Western. They assume she’s a whore as well. 

My friend perceives this as being unable to understand ‘the other.’  But I associate it with stereotypes that people in Arab culture have about Western women.  And furthermore, how we Arabs look at our own women too.

For now, I advise not to yell at people in the checkpoints. :)  Don’t humiliate Iraqis in any way.  Be kind to children, women and men.  No matter how simple it may seem, little things can really help.  Arabs are fed up with words.  We prefer good deeds that speak for themselves.

Be safe and be blessed. Keep those beautiful dreams inside you.” - Falastine

More of your responses coming soon.

Interesting question - got an answer?

Posted in Q & A on Feb 22, 2008

Every once in a while, I receive a compelling question from a reader. Check out the letter below. Try putting aside reactionary prejudices about America, pro or con, and appreciate the sincerity, hope and eminently human dilemma being expressed here. If you have an answer for her, email it to me and I’ll forward it to her…

Irshad:

I’m a soldier in the United States Army. When I joined the Army 5 years ago, I signed on to be a linguist working for Military Intelligence. They didn’t tell me what language until I got to the school. It turned out to be Arabic. I knew next to nothing about Islamic culture or the Arabic language, but over the first few years of my enlistment I became reasonably proficient at the language and somewhat knowledgeable about the culture.

Then I was deployed to Iraq, which is where the problem developed. You see, I think I’ve fallen in love with Iraq. Parts of it, anyway. Baghdad is gorgeous… The children melted my heart, and somehow I knew from the moment I saw the place that there are lots of good people there. Unfortunately, all these good people are dying by the dozens on a daily basis. Sometimes they die by the hundreds.

I do what I can to help find and capture the people responsible for it, but the most of the Iraqi people seem to see us as the enemy. Maybe it’s because we went into the country without knowing what we were doing, and we screwed things up so bad they don’t trust us anymore. Or maybe it’s that they’re more willing to blame their problems on the West than they are to look at the locals who are wreaking havoc on their villages, blowing up funeral processions, mosques, and the like.Whatever the cause, the end result is that millions of Iraqis are mad as Hell.

The only way the Iraqi people will ever rebuild their economy and live normal lives again (if they ever had in the first place - Saddam wasn’t exactly benevolent) is if they get pissed off at the right people and take action against those people.

This has become my fight. I’m not sure exactly why, but I know that my conscience isn’t going to be truly clean until I see a phoenix rise from the ashes in Baghdad. My fiancée was stationed in Tal Afar when he was deployed, and he tells me that the people started performing citizens’ arrests, to the point where the American troops sometimes had to calm them down. According to him, crime ceased almost
completely in the area.

I’m going to deploy to Baghdad again within the next month or two. The question I have is this: As a non-Muslim Caucasian female, in an American Army uniform, with just enough knowledge of Iraqi dialect to hold a simple conversation, what can I do to help? I want to just talk to Iraqis outright, but I’m not very good at speaking the language and I don’t think they’d listen to a white girl whom many of them assume is a whore (because why would an Army allow women within its ranks if not for the pleasure of the men? I know that sounds awful, but I’ve encountered this attitude more than once)…

Okay, people, what would you do after walking a mile in her boots? Again, please refrain from simplistic and sarcastic retorts like, “Stay the hell home.” The woman’s got a job and she’s not a Nazi who’s sending Iraqis to gas chambers. If understanding The Other is among the vexing challenges of our era, then she’s already there. Now let’s give her some decent advice, shall we? Email me your thoughts.

Be not afraid

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Feb 14, 2008

This week, I participated in a debate about whether democratic governments are obliged to protect Muslim citizens who live under threat of death merely for opposing Islamists.

Many of you who watched are suggesting that I remind people to sign my petition against death threats. Almost 3,000 have already done so, but freedom of conscience surely deserves more friends.  Please sign your name and city. Don’t let give violent Islamists the authority to intimidate you into anonymity.

There’s a second reason for issuing this reminder now. Yesterday, a Danish journalist wrote me this message:

“A group of men has just been captured. They had plans of killing one of the Muhammad cartoonists here in Denmark. I would like to know if you still have the security that you had in Toronto. Do you have police surveillance or do you go as you please? Do you still live the way you told me a few years ago - ‘if I die, I die’?”

My response:

“I’m now living in New York where daily protection for me is better than in Canada. The death threats are still coming; in fact, I received a fresh round of them only two weeks ago. But I refuse to hide — or be cowed into conformity. I ‘m convinced it’s more dignified to die on your feet than to live on your knees.

My decision to speak up is an active choice, an exercise of personal agency. If die for making that choice, then at least I will have lived on my own terms.  At my funeral, let it be said that ’she sacrificed something she was already willing to give — not something that terrorists stole from her.’

Ultimately, I refuse to hand the enemies of reason and humanity more power by sanctifying what they can snuff out. They can take my physical being, but they’ll never, ever,  be able to kill my ideas or the spirit behind them. Gandhi would have approved.”

Allow me to explain the last line. Gandhi advised that in the face of genocidal evil, we must resist vigorously yet non-violently. Should the resistance effort prove utterly fruitless, then something else needs to be done. Since reciprocal violence wasn’t an option for Gandhi, his answer was to die voluntarily as a way of exposing the sheer depth of the evil in our midst. Until then, he emphasized, resist.

Speaking purely personally, I can’t disagree. I’m prepared to die in order to shine a spotlight on the horrors of Islamist abuse — as long as that’s the only dignified choice I have left. The reason this approach doesn’t make me a martyr is that I recognize all other options have yet to be exhausted. So I’m not cruising for death; just aware of its possibility and content to press forward in spite of it. Non-violent resistance remains an option, to say nothing of a necessity.

Another reason I’m no victim is that I insist on remembering those who don’t have the profile or platform that I do. They include Kenyan democracy activists and human rights defenders who are receiving death threats through SMS texts, emails and phone calls. Women Living Under Muslims Laws has issued a bulletin about this.

Amid all the threats, it’s easy to believe that we’re powerless. But feeling inadequate doesn’t mean being so.  Signing your name and city to my petition is a shout-out that you live your values openly.  The meek may inherit the earth, but God knows they won’t save it.

Of course, some will hate your guts for supporting those who dissent with Islamist extremism. Beauty is, you’ll have guts.

An A+ for passion

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Jan 14, 2008

Irshad (at right) with participants of the Students Effecting Change conference

A 14-year-old student writes:

“From my perspective as a Roman Catholic who’s never really had to think about what would happen to me if I questioned my faith, your book has definitely opened my eyes. Not only to the horrors that go on in some Muslim countries, but also to those who are reform-minded like yourself and who want to see it change - kudos to you for that, by the way.

But really, I just wanted to let you know that you are an inspiration to the youth of today. I was at Me to We Day in Toronto - I loved your speech or lecture or eye-opener or whatever you want to call it.

And then, just before the Christmas break, we were assigned a project in my religion class: we had to choose someone who has spoken out for what they believe and has died or had their life put in danger for their cause.

I can honestly say that before some kids came up with the obvious names like Martin Luther King Jr. or Oscar Romero, I thought of you. Maybe it was because I’d heard you speak before or maybe it was because I admire you for being a journalist (I LOVE to write), but either way, I chose to do my project on you.

Over the break I read your book (awesome!!) and I’ve been looking through your website for information, which I found pretty easily. I came across some horrible comments that people have sent you. Jeez, the nerve of these people!

But I saw all the really nice comments you’ve been given as well, so I just thought I’d add mine in: what you’re doing is awesome and I commend you on your outspokenness, your courage, your intelligence, your open-mindedness, and above all your persistence.

Congratulations on all of your achievements and all that are sure to come. And happy new year :)” xo - Rebecca

Irshad replies: Thanks for your words of support, Rebecca. I’m mighty moved.

Most readers would be offended by the nasty comments I receive but I believe that meaningful diversity must embrace different views and not just different races and religions. Besides, people who spew such ugliness should be accountable, which means bringing their prejudices (along with their names) out into the open. I say: Shower light on everything and let the people decide!

Speaking of showering light on everything, what grade did you get on your paper?

Ready for Part 2? Final installment of your responses to my Bhutto comments on CNN.com and CNN Int’l

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Jan 04, 2008

Here’s Part 1 in case you missed it. Part 2 doesn’t start off pretty, but hang in there. You’ll see that reason prevails after all…

* “On CNN today, I got to hear about your writing. I was intrigued, so I searched the net and viewed a couple of videos about you. You are quite eloquent and I like the way you always seem to be audible in your commentaries.[But] keep in mind:

You are a lesbian, abnormal, queer and evil. You suck, eat, finger, grope, lick, spit and drink pussy juice and yet you have a pussy yourself. Aren’t you ashamed? Then again, you are hiding under the confines of Canada where you purportedly think you are safe - Muhahahahaha.” - Bernard

* “Kinda glad ur a lesbian cuz I wont feel guilty in sayin I LOVE you. Liked your comments about Benazir. Well said again. May Allah be with you always.” - Zahir

* “May I dare ask u only one thing, What type of pleasure or orgasm u feel being as a Lesbian? Plz provide your answer in a single sentence. If u can’t reply then u r not able to write a Controversial book by ur own mind. Looking forward.” - Dr. Shahid Mehmood, KHI Pak

Irshad replies: The pleasure I feel comes from sharing messages like yours, which show that having the letters “Dr.” in front of your name doesn’t make you smart. But thanks for gratuitously raising the issue of my book. It provides a seamless segue into the next batch of messages that I received after my Bhutto commentary:

* “I will be very blunt with you in saying that truck load of your books can’t achieve empowerment of women and minorities in Pakistan that Benazir Bhutto was able to unleash.” - Iqbal, Washington

Irshad replies: Really? Try telling that to someone who actually lives Pakistan, as the next writer does…

* “You are doing a fantastic job and wish you all the success. We would like to continue your mission in Pakistan. Can you share your thoughts about opening a chapter in Pakistan for liberal Muslims, later to be transformed at grass roots?” - Riaz

Irshad replies: It’s a challenge, Riaz. In 2006, my book was translated into Urdu for liberal Muslims in your country. A Pakistani publisher even agreed to help distribute it.

Within a week of the book appearing in stores, a fatwa against it frightened all vendors into clearing their shelves. That’s why I had to get the Urdu translation posted on my website. Now you can download it, free of charge, here. To date, more than 90,000 Pakistanis have done so.

I believe the way to start a grassroots movement for Muslim reform is to circulate the Urdu translation of my book far and wide. You can share the files, send an email blast containing the link, or print the Urdu translation and distribute it anonymously. Remember: there is no cost except for that of your own time and energy. I have faith that you’ll see the opportunity and not just the challenge.

* “I hope I will be able to find your book in Pakistan. I will comment on it once I read it and will try to establish my own opinion, unlike others who criticize you without understanding your views.” - Hassaan, Islamabad

Irshad replies: Sounds fair to me, Hassaan. As I told Riaz above, you can download the Urdu translation of my book for free. I look forward to your feedback about how we Muslims can renew ijtihad, or critical thinking, within Islam.

Now for some final — and more direct — responses to my Bhutto commentary:

* “How could you say that Benazir Bhutto didn’t do enough for Muslim women? In your so-focused mentality of reform, you came to your not-enough conclusion. Agreed, she could have done so much more. Agreed.

However, as a free-thinker, I would never come to the conclusion that she hasn’t done enough for Muslim women. She may not have finished the entire forest but she damn sure planted a heck of a lot of trees in it.

In your very own words, reform is going to take a collective effort… What if Bhutto’s life has already or will eventually inspire the next Pakistani sister to rise up and eventually ‘do enough’? Does all that go without credit?

Just as you have successfully implored me to join in ijtihad, I implore you, my sister Irshad, to specifically re-assess your position on Bhutto’s legacy and generally embrace those who take baby-steps. It’s easy for us to live in the West and say whatever we want. It’s harder for those living in Pakistan or Sudan (where I’m from) and to have the same courage. We’re all human. Any and all progress is good progess.” - Nafie (male), 24, Boston

Irshad replies: Thank you, Nafie, for your direct, logical, and respectful challenge. You’ll be happy to know that I gave CNN International an interview in which I made all of these points.

At the outset, I emphasized that it’s reform-minded Pakistanis who’ve been writing to me about Bhutto’s failures; therefore, I’m acting as their voice and not merely my own. These reformists remind us that Benazir took inspiration from strong Pakistani women who came before her, so that progress begets progress.

At the end of our interview, the host asked me to speak only for myself and explain what Benazir meant to me as a Muslim woman. I said that, having become prime minister at 35, she showed what we can achieve at a young age. I added that she didn’t merely ride her father’s coat tails but tried to chart a path of her own by returning to Pakistan with a more intense commitment to reform. I wrapped up by affirming that I and others stand on her shoulders in seeking further change.

One can be critical, constructive and compassionate all at the same time. I hope you now see my genuine attempt to strike that balance.

* “It was very refreshing to read your balanced and hopeful piece. As a woman and global citizens, I was especially inspired by your point of view on Jinnah [founder of Pakistan]. You have certainly got me interested in learning more about his vision of Pakistan.” - Shabira, Vancouver

Irshad replies: His sister’s vision might be even more interesting, Shabira. Read the next letter…

* “Irshad, let me amplify your comments regarding Jinnah’s sister, Fatima. In the 1960s, she stood as the opposition candidate for the presidency against the dictator Ayub Khan.

Also, my father told me the apocryphal story that soon after independence, when the Pakistani constituent assembly was debating the abridgment of women’s rights, the wife of the first PM, Liaquat Ali Khan, led a delegation of women symbolically carrying brooms,to warn their husbands against such shenanigans.”

Irshad replies: Those witches! (That’s a joke about brooms. Oh, never mind.)

* “I read your comments about Benazir’s assassination and I believe that if she were to read them too, she would agree with you. As you know, and as Benazir knew, for a people to realize democracy, it requires debate and dissent, free speech, inclusion, involvement, participation, open-mindedness, critical thinking AND all sisters and brothers.

You are correct. Benazir was not a saint. Nor am I. Nor are you. However, Benazir understood as you do that ‘it is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.’” - Anonymous

By the way, the Pakistani-British author and activist, Tariq Ali, wrote a newspaper commentary that blasted the feudal politics of Benazir Bhutto. Yet he received far tamer comments. What gives?

What Barack might have taught Benazir

Posted in Irshaddering Thoughts, Q & A on Jan 04, 2008

An email I’ll never forget from a young Pakistani-American:

“Watching Barack Obama deliver his spellbinding victory speech in Iowa, I was reminded of your CNN.com article about Benazir Bhutto’s legacy. You argue that she caved to narrow-minded feudal politics. I think you’re right. I mean, the fact that she bequeathed a so-called ‘people’s party’ to her own son, behind the mask of democracy, only proves your point.

Barack Obama is the opposite. So far, he has beat the political establishment through real democracy. He has attracted not only disillusioned Democrats but also alienated Republicans and Independents. All of this happening in a country, my country, that is more fractious than ever.

On top of that, the good ol’ divided states of America is seriously flirting with dynastic feudalism of its own.  To be honest, this is what we will have if Hillary becomes President.

Barack is an emblem for the politics of pluralism, not tribalism. Irshad, I don’t think I would have appreciated this about him without your article on Benazir Bhutto. I know you are catching a lot of flak for it. Well, the flak stops here. Thank you for making me a more thoughtful citizen of America and the world.” - Zafar, 22

Irshad to all readers: Stay tuned for more of your responses to my Bhutto commentary. Warning: They won’t all be as noble or wholesome as Zafar’s message. Ain’t democracy fun?

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