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Remembering Dedo:
Alija Izetbegovic 

1925-2003

Official transcript of Shaykh Hamza Yusuf's speech on the Night of Remembrance

Taqwa: The Goal of Civil Society, by Nazim Baksh

The Neo-Magic Phenomenon of David Blaine, by Hasna Fateh

The British Imam - Subversive or Saint? by Yahya Birt

The Neo-Magic Phenomenon of David Blaine, by Hasna Fateh

Meeting the needs of a community in crisis, by Khalida Khan

BNP falters up north, by Shamim Miah

Language, power and honour killings, by Romana Majid and Sabbia Hanif

Hassan Turabi Released, by Iqbal Siddiqui

The Courage of Refuse, by Yahya Abdul Rahman

Letter from New Zealand, by Freshta Hassan

Frontline medics, by Saleyha Ahsan

One upon an An-Nisa..., by Humera Khan

Reviving Responsible Leadership, by Yahya Birt

Ramadan Advice, by Habib Ali Al-Jifri

Where do we Stand in front of Allah, by Shiraz Khan Egyptian Ramadan Tales

A Royal Ramadan

What you ought to know about Fasting, by Faraz Rabbani

Fashion: Grateful Threads

Music: Making Music with Sami Yusuf

Film Review: Rumi - The Wings of Love

TV Review: The Last white Kids, by Radhia Tarafder

Book Review: Tagore - The Myriad Minded man, by Shamim Miah

Invocation: Taking Refuge

Book Extract: Imam Haddad on Fasting
 

FROM THE PULPIT

The movement is dead. Long live the movement! It is too late in the day to meander around certain issues. One of them is what kind of modus operandi we as Muslims living in the West adopt in order to ensure our survival, prosperity and relevancy. Two years after the traumatic events of 9/11 and decades of existence in a state of limbo it is time we made a critical assessment of our situation: the condition we are in, how we got here and where we need to go.

This process has to begin with a honest appraisal. We have to start with an understanding that we, as a community, are in a mess. And that unless things change fundamentally it will continue to get messier.

Our story so far has been one of missed and squandered opportunities. Over the years we have allowed ourselves to be victims of our own narrow understanding of Islam and our role in society. If anything we have done an amazing job of reducing the great teachings of this faith to suit our own idiosyncrasies. We have projected so much of our neurosis on Islam that for the majority of people the deen has little context out of discussions on beards, scarves, khilafah and halal meat. But perhaps the worst crime we have committed is turn Islam, this great gift to mankind, into some kind of tribal emblem that assembles all those who are angry, violent and consumed with hatred to justify equally inhuman, barbaric and un-Islamic behaviour and actions.

Our young people lack role models other than those provided by the hostile media surrounding us. They are brought up on a shallow textbook understanding of Islam that teaches them neither humility nor love. Caught in the dialectics of the race industry and attracted by the blame culture behind most of the reasoning behind Islamophobia, they are loudest when it comes to rights but negligent when it comes to responsibilities.

We turn a blind eye to those among us who cheat the welfare system and yet expect to be taken seriously when we condemn corrupt rulers in our countries; we demand pluralism and transparency overseas while we run our organisations like family heirlooms with no sense of accountability or responsibility to both man or God.

Our young are adept at shouting cheap political slogans but struggle with simple dhikrs. Most have hardly mastered the art of performing ghusl properly yet feel qualified in discussing complex religious matters that are of no immediate benefit to anybody. Hundreds turn out to demonstrate outside an embassy or government building in the cold but few are prepared to man soup kitchens for the homeless or offer their services to orphanages or the elderly.

We lack original thinking and most of our ‘writers’ and ‘intellectuals’ are pastiche artists. Others attain greatness by writing introductions and prefaces to old political tracts. Nothing is more sad than seeing our young people pumping themselves up with ideas and understandings forged in 30s Egypt, 40s subcontinent and 50s Lebanon.

Our organisations are structured like medieval clubs; our ‘leaders’ don’t even represent their shadows. We suppress and resent diversity and dissent within our own ranks yet are champions for them everywhere. Merit is never a consideration when choosing our leaders but subservience and mediocrity seem to be.

We are gender fascists: we patronise women and give them little value other than what is tokenistic. We hate the rebellious young, the intelligent other and those who refuse to be part of the herd.

We must change, or face the consequences. Whether we want it or not this revolution is already taking place. We must understand that the future lies with those institutions and individuals who are relevant to the struggle to establish Islam here in the UK. And that our success in this world would be measured by the state of Islam we can inject in our lives and those of our relatives, friends and neighbours and not in the creation of some utopian Islamic state.

Finally, it is wise in our modern times that we don’t indulge in doublespeak: we must say in public what we say in private. And that we all know that it is a lie for any group of people to suggest that they have a strategy for our salvation that is ‘secret’ and in the custodian of only a few chosen ones.

If anybody has a magic formula to get us out of the abyss we are in it is their duty, nay, their obligatory duty (fard) not only to make it public but accessible to all.

Out there at the moment, believe us, their is no movement: only signs to a cul de sac.

Fuad Nahdi

Chief Editor
 

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