Pushed too far: a liberal and proudly British Muslim responds to the ink spilt over the Charlie Hebdo attacks

I thought this time it would be different. I read article after article of thoughtful, nuanced commentary. I applauded writers, Muslim and non-Muslim alike, who referenced Islam’s rich history and diversity. I nodded gravely at the equivalences that some writers and cartoonists were drawing between the latest spate of cartoons and the racist and anti-Semitic cartoons of the past (http://www.theguardian.com/world/ng-interactive/2015/jan/09/joe-sacco-on-satire-a-response-to-the-attacks?CMP=share_btn_fb). I cheered at those who pointed out the inconsistencies of our stance on free speech. I grieved for the cartoonists – he who takes a life, it is as if he has killed all of mankind. And I thought, maybe we’ve grown up. Maybe we can deal with complexity. Maybe we can examine ourselves and acknowledge the complicity of our nations, corporations and political leaders in horrific events taking place in the world – that we see and do not see. And then I read the comments below Pankaj Mishra’s latest Guardian article and I finally snapped. (http://www.theguardian.com/news/2015/jan/20/-sp-after-paris-its-time-for-new-enlightenment)

 

Because after hearing yet another person mock religion as being a childish sky-God fantasy of no value, and hearing yet another person naively champion the Enlightened West against the Backward Other of Islam, and hearing yet another person confidently state that Islam is inherently conservative, inherently violent, and so dismiss 1400 years of a complex history, I have had enough. Enough being told what I believe by complete strangers. Enough mockery of a tradition by whose wisdom I do my best to live, even as I challenge and critique it and sometimes even rail against it. Enough implications (no matter how subtle) that no matter how white I look, or how middle-class and law-abiding my lifestyle, or how liberal and pluralistic my values, or how straight-up BBC my accent, I do not belong simply by virtue of my religion. Enough valuing of some lives more than others. Enough looking the other way as the political leaders for whom I did not vote are complicit in the mass killing of innocents in the guise of stopping terrorism.

 

I am not opposed to the careful critical analysis of the doctrines and history of the different interpretations of Islam. I am not opposed to speaking truth to power, even (especially) when that power is conservative religious clerics who take their partial, punitive, historically myopic interpretation of Islam and try to impose it by their military and economic might. But I don’t think the Charlie Hebdo cartoons were either of those things. There were a million other ways of satirising some of the more ridiculous, or oppressive, interpretations of Islam. The cleric who condemned the building of snowmen as idolatry is a pretty soft target. Western journalists could even have taken a leaf out of the books of the Persian and Central Asian cultural traditions and told Molla Nasreddin jokes, many of which poke fun at the presumptions of the religious establishment. By targeting the Prophet, by demonising Islam rather than those who oppress others in its name, the so-called upholders of free speech do no more than alienate their potential allies, those Muslims who are deeply critical of the oppressive policies of many Muslim states and who see themselves as proud citizens of the countries in which they make their homes. I count myself in that.

 

I am on the liberal fringe of an already-liberal Muslim community, one that has assimilated into British life without much fanfare and got on with the business of being productive citizens and giving back to society through volunteering, a community that places emphasis on human dignity, has built girls’ schools in remote regions of Northern Pakistan, and is often persecuted in Muslim-majority countries. I am deeply grateful for the freedoms that I have in Britain and deeply appreciative of the rich artistic, scientific, literary, academic and cultural heritage I have grown up with living in London. And even I have had enough. I would suggest that when even your most liberal, proud-to-be British, Muslim citizens are trying to tell you that there’s a problem with the way that some people demonise and mock Islam and Muslims, maybe there’s a problem.

 

I did not expect that I would be this angry. I will channel my anger into fighting back with the pen (or the keyboard), into showing at least my small corner of the world how much wisdom, how much richness, there is in this religion that I love and live by, while not being blind to the oppression and injustice carried out in its name. I will continue to speak truth to power. I will channel my rage into seeking to listen and learn and understand and find better ways of living together. But I now understand, in a way that I did not before, that were I less privileged, more marginalised, more excluded, less hopeful, this same anger would have found more destructive outlets.

 

We cannot afford to go on mocking, marginalising and provoking our minorities, be they “benefit cheats” or “sky-God fanatics.” We may not agree with each other, indeed, we may think that the other is fundamentally wrong or misguided or even dangerous, but that does not take away the other’s humanity and dignity. And while words may not be sticks and stones, they have power – to hurt or heal, to dehumanise or uphold. So I find underneath my anger a resolve to be more sensitive to my own language and to use words to seek to understand, rather than to denigrate. It’s not much, it’s hardly a drop in the ocean in the face of these seemingly insurmountable problems, but it’s what I have.