A very interesting article.
Michael A. Malik is a revert to Islam.
Islam is wonderful, but I can’t stand the Muslims, Islam for Today
There was a white face in the mosque. You don’t see very many, so I went over and asked if he was a Muslim, “I used to be, but not any more.” he said, “I thought Islam was wonderful, but I couldn’t stand the Muslims”. What could I say except “I know how you feel”. Most converts do.
Of course one meets some special individuals in encounters with the ummah, but how is it possible that in the Muslim world they seem so few and far between? Does my being a cultural alien mean that I am inherently less capable of understanding Islam, or is it just that I don’t understand my fellow Muslims? Why is it that a trip to the mosque so often leaves me closer to despair than hope? Why do I so rarely feel enlightened and uplifted after conversation with my fellow Muslims, yet so often offended by their behaviour, frustrated by their mindless approach to truth, and enraged by the inadequacy of the Islam they expect me to accept? How often I have felt like giving it all up.
Fortunately I was a Muslim for four years before going to the Muslim world and meeting those who feel that Islam belongs to them by birthright, so I early on formed a relationship with God which served to armour me against the ummah. The first time I went into a mosque in a Muslim country, the first thing to happen was that someone tried to throw me out. Now they weren’t to know that I was a Muslim but they didn’t even ask. When I told them, in fact, the first thing they did ask was “Sunni or Shi’a?”, so if I’d picked the wrong one they would probably have thrown me out anyway. I thoroughly confused them when I said I didn’t care, however, and eventually they let me stop and pray.
First impressions last a long time, they say, but many years after having learned by experience the best way to get in, pray, and get out without harassment, it still seems that in a strange mosque a strange face is more likely to be greeted with hostility than welcome.
…] I came to Islam through a search for Truth, but I found that in practice most Muslims give the truth a very low priority, and I can still be shocked by their facility for saying whatever they think suits the conversation best. Along with truth goes trustworthiness, surely an Islamic virtue, yet travelling through the Muslim world I met Muslims eager to sit down and discuss breaking an agreement not two minutes after sealing it with a pious recitation of Al Fatiha [first chapter of the Quran]. And closer to home how distasteful it is to belong to a community so notorious with regard to paying bills.
How about Mercy and Compassion - those words now repeatedly on my Muslim lips. In three years of travelling through the Muslim world, hardly a day passed without some stranger feeling he ought to instruct me in the principles of Islam. In all that time, in all these casual encounters, not only was mercy never given pride of place, but I actually don’t recall it ever having been given a place at all. It is not necessary for my friends to look to the Muslim heartlands, when at home the Muslim example can be confused with “My Beautiful Launderette”.
But they see the Muslim heartlands every evening an TV, with their dictators and demagogues thick on the ground, oppressive and unjust societies, poverty and ignorance. There is no point in telling friends that Islam is a complete way of life. That it is a way to achieve joy and fulfillment in this life, hope and trust when approaching the next, and the perfect basis for a tolerant and peaceful society for all humanity. What can I answer when someone says “Show me!” - “Point to a Muslim country you can use as an example.”
My Islam sees in the [P]rophet endless examples of forgiveness and tolerance, yet my friends see the mindless enforcement of rigid laws and eccentric punishments. I sometimes explain, but could just as well tell tales of Shari’a court corruption and injustice. My Islam insists on individual freedom, there is no compulsion, no priests are needed, and except for piety all men are equal. I kneel before no man, though I will kneel in prayer beside any, and my wealth and privilege is permitted, though charity is to be preferred, and the prophet chose to die a pauper.
My friends can understand and be drawn to such principles, but unless they can see this utopia in a more tangible form than my theories they are surely destined to remain cynical about their possible fulfillment. As long as I can’t show them examples of Muslims living in a way they consider preferable to their own, I won’t worry too much about their conversion. They see my Islam as a pipe dream, and who knows, perhaps they are right. The task is of course even harder when the friends concerned are women, as the clichéd platitudes of Islamic freedom and equality mean nothing when such highly visible inequities and oppression are impossible to hide.
…] “It is necessary to revive that Muslim community which is buried under the debris of the manmade traditions of several generations, and which is crushed under the weight of those false laws and customs which are not remotely related to Islamic teachings, and which, in spite of all this, calls itself the 'world of Islam’” (Qutb - Milestones). It’s time to get back to the real thing - and I don’t mean coca cola.
As I waited to begin my talk to the gathering of young Muslims I engaged in conversation with the group. A nice, quiet, attentive, well-mannered lot I thought. Then time to begin, but the mike wasn’t working, and they waited “Testing! Testing! 123…” for while. Rather than just read numbers, it seemed more appropriate to read some Qur’an - after all, I was going to be talking about prayer. To my amazement, the first words of Fatihah seemed to fall in the room like a grenade, turning the group into a rabble. Punches flew, people rolled on the floor, conversations were attempted back and forth across the room, and Fatihah was generally taken as Time Out. If these were the ones at a Muslim conference, what on earth would the Muslim youth who weren’t there have been like?
Now it’s not that I’m a one for excessive displays of reverence, I see my religion more in a practical kind of way, but this was, which the Prophet called the best of the chapters of the Qur’an, and which Al-Ghazali called the key to Paradise. These words are not recited in every rakat of prayer without good reason. The outward displays of reverence, such as venerating a Qur’an, placing it high up and wrapped away, cannot do justice to the awe and wonder this surah deserves. But if a Muslim does not have a reason for this reverence which satisfies his understanding, the outward displays become hollow and easy to discard.
…] It is as though Muslims are afraid that Islam can’t stand up to common sense questions, yet Fatihah alone can satisfy whatever intellectual demands are put upon it and still remain inexhaustible. Are we passing on the key to the door of paradise, and forgetting to explain how you use it to open the lock.
If young Muslims are not shown the full richness of Islamic knowledge, we must not be surprised if they show more interest in fields where there seems further to explore. It will take some time before mosques are again centres of learning in all its aspects, places of research, experimentation and debate concerning our understanding of God and Creation. But when western educated young Muslim adults begin to search for their spiritual roots, God willing, they will uncover the means of reinvigorating the ummah, and leading them in the example of the Companions. If our Islam is not like theirs, filled with a sense of awe, wonder and excitement, can we really be doing justice to the service of Allah.
In such a situation, we will find new Muslims drawn towards the mosque. At the moment, amidst the ummah they are more likely to find Islam expressed as a cultural adjunct, where even the five pillars are avoided. But if the pillars are treated as unnecessary then what is needed to be Muslim, and if they are necessary how many Muslims are there in the ummah?
This goes to the heart of the conversation question, as we need to know what is essential for a person to be considered Muslim. Do Muslims in fact expect more from a convert than they do from those born in their cultures? How little does a westerner have to do before Muslims accept him as Muslim, and how far can he stray from their cultural norm before they consider him a disturbing intrusion and would rather that he stayed away? Is the reason there are not more converts because they would disturb the status quo?
But our effect on our surrounding society is a mirror to our behaviour and how well we represent Islam. We must live in a way that seems preferable and then at least partially satisfy the expectations of the inquisitive. Once upon a time, Islam spread like wildfire. In a few short years the Message spread to Morocco and to China. Millions welcomed the good news, and quickly shaped their lives around it.
Now Islam may be fast growing in the third world regions, but here in the West Muslims face a peculiar reaction to their invitations to join them in their faith, as almost nobody wants anything to do with it. If the message we are passing on no longer seems to have the same effect, is it not time to consider if we just have a communications problem, or whether we ourselves are abusing the message? Fortunately we still have the original - all we have to do is understand it!
Sorry if i rambled above. 