Beyond disproving the tired tropes of Muslims hating the west, Australian Muslims can show us what a month of practising to be a better person looks like

As Australian Muslims prepared for Ramadan this week, the leader of the second most popular political party in the country, Senator Pauline Hanson, said of them: “Their religion concerns me because [of] what it says in the Qur’an … They hate Westerners … You say, ‘Well, there’s good Muslims out there.’ Well, I’m sorry. How can you tell me there are good Muslims?”

None of this is surprising. This same senator has twice worn a burqa into parliament, wrongly claimed that halal certification funds terrorism, and wanted a royal commission into Islam.

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Pro-Palestine activism received a respite from longstanding official and unofficial repression in Britain this week with a legal order to overturn a government ban on Palestine Action, an activist organization that was banned in the summer of 2025. The High Court ruled that the ban was unlawful, giving some relief to thousands of people who had been imprisoned under the ban.

Aiming to challenge Britain’s armament of Israel through direct action, Palestine Action was founded in the early 2020s by Huda Ammori, a British researcher and activist of Palestinian-Iraqi stock, and Richard Barnard. Urgency was lent to their work by the subsequent genocide that began in Gaza from 2023, to which the British government and assorted weapons companies were linked. In a remarkable leap, the government cited the group’s raid on an arms manufacturer’s Bristol warehouse as evidence of its terrorist nature. The result was that thousands of people, including many pensioners, were imprisoned for public solidarity with the group, which the government presented as support for terrorism.

The legal proceedings launched by the British state, first under Yvette Cooper, who has since been given the foreign minister’s role, and then under Shabana Mahmood, have been notable for a reliance on rhetoric, with “terrorism” the most obvious example, in favour of legal rights and facts. Even in court, the Palestine Action legal team was at first deprived of key footage that showed armed guards bearing down on the activists who had supposedly “assaulted” them: footage with the potential to turn the claim of unprovoked assault by the “terrorist” activists on its head. Unsurprisingly, the court ruled against the ban.

Yet, the case of Palestine Action is simply part of a major campaign to crack down against Palestine support and criticism of Israel that the British state has pursued since the genocide ended. Owing to Britain’s relative familiarity with the Middle East, where its colonial conquest and misrule of the region during and immediately after the World Wars set in motion the foundation of Israel amid a mass expulsion of Palestinians, there has long been a relatively informed debate on the issue of the type that is rare across the Atlantic in the United States. In the period since, Britain has usually at least overtly avoided the tasteless partisanship with Israel characteristic of the United States.

However, this has changed enormously in the past twenty years. It changed first under Tony Blair (1997-2007), whose New Labour regime eagerly identified itself with pro-Israel neoconservatives in Washington, and who even after leaving office has personally been an unofficial eminence grise in Anglo-American policy toward the Muslim world, most recently as the prospective viceroy for Donald Trump’s grotesquely misnamed “Board of Peace” that aims to turn the wreckage of Gaza into a “pacified” colony.

Israeli Encroachment During the Tory Decade

The process intensified during the 2010s, a decade dominated by the right-wing Tory party, whose leaders were each closely identified with Israel, though some more than others. One particularly noxious mainstay was the rabidly anti-Muslim minister Michael Gove, who, as education minister, whipped up an entirely contrived Green Scare about Muslim schools acting as a societal fifth column, and also spearheaded the “Brexit” campaign to leave Europe that produced major economic repercussions for which Muslims, immigrants, and minorities more generally are repeatedly blamed. Unsurprisingly, Gove is also a major cheerleader of Israel, recently suggesting that the Israeli military be given a prize for its supposed clemency in genociding Gaza.

British Parliamentarian, Michael Gove [PC: The BBC]

Such ministers and other pro-Israel networksput constant pressure on British policy, as well as institutions such as the state-sponsored media outlet British Broadcasting Corporation, in a more pro-Israel direction. Less personally extreme figures also fell into line: cases in point were successive prime ministers David Cameron (2010-16) and Theresa May (2016-19).

May, who had been interior minister during Gove’s crusade against Muslim schools before succeeding Cameron, was nonetheless seen as insufficiently malleable: in November 2017, she had to dismiss her own interior minister, Gove’s frequent collaborator Priti Patel, for unauthorized secret meetings with Israeli leaders. In turn, the infamous American powerbroker, sex trafficker, and undisguised supporter of Israel, Jeffrey Epstein, conspired against her with her successor and then-foreign minister, Boris Johnson, and with far-right ideologue Steve Bannon.

Johnson’s own interior minister, Suella Braverman, was as ruthless a partisan of Israel as Patel: as soon as the genocide began in autumn 2023, she ordered a draconian crackdown, characterized by dogwhistling rhetoric and spurious targeting of even mild dissidence. Her cabinet colleague, defence minister Grant Shapps, arranged weapons transfers to Israel at the same time as his daughter was publicly denouncing pro-Palestine activism as a threat to Jews. This, despite the sizeable number of Jewish activists in such activism: their struggle, like that of pro-Palestine activists of other faiths, was discounted.

Braverman resigned after lambasting her own police for what she considered insufficient ruthlessness, and has since left the Tories to join the far-right party of Nigel Farage, the rabble-rouser whose views include vilification of foreigners and support of Israel, and to whom Bannon and Epstein were also linked. Farage forms part of a circle of far-right figures that pressure successive regimes to move further right and, among other things, to side with Israel. They include fascist-curious polemicist Douglas Murray and nativist thug “Tommy Robinson” Stephen Yaxley-Lennon, both of whom have since the 2000s whipped up hatred against Muslims and have gone out of their way to cheerlead Israel, frequently meeting with its officials and echoing its propaganda, since the genocide began in 2023.

Nativism with International Links

This propaganda, often relying on Artificial Intelligence-generated imagery and blatant invective, often overlaps with anti-Muslim state propaganda from India and the United Arab Emirates. India has been ruled since 2014 by the far-right Bharatiya Janata Party, which has often made violent anti-Muslim agitation a centrepiece of its policy and is, once more, particularly close with Israel. Patel and Braverman, the former British interior ministers who have so unabashedly pinned their flags to the Israeli mast, both support Modi.

The Emirates, whose Mohammad bin Zayed is infamous for an international antipathy against “political Islam”, which usually overlaps with any Muslim presence but the most obeisant to him, has likewise whipped up agitation against Muslims in the West: anti-Muslim circles frequently cite its foreign minister Abdullah bin Zayed, the ruler’s brother, when he criticized the West for its supposed tolerance of Muslim extremists. These are all talking points meant to increase pressure on Muslims in the West, as Murray has advocated for at least twenty years, and in turn dampen opposition to Western support for Israeli policy.

The crackdown on Palestine Action, and similarly heavy-handed clampdowns in France and Germany, are thus the result of years of pressure by foreign governments and local nativists, invariably linked to support of Israel.

Along with a web of ostensibly private actors linked to Israel’s government, Israeli ambassadors have constantly pressured Britain to crack down more robustly: its ambassador Mark Regev’s push to censor the presentation she arranged of a pro-Palestine Jewish speaker helped push Ammori, the Palestine Action founder, to more direct activism. This blatant case of interference in a private campus was just part of the steady inroads into British institutions that Israel’s supporters made during the Tory years. These inroads threaten the party structure itself: this winter, Robert Jenrick, another particular Israel cheerleader seen as a rising star within the Tories, was forced out of the party by its leader, Kemi Badenoch, after another plot; like Braverman, he joined Farage.

None of this is to signify moderation on the part of the plotters’ targets: with a singular lack of self-respect, the Tory leaders targeted by pro-Israel competitors have themselves gone out of their way to kowtow to Tel Aviv. Badenoch has shrilly supported Israel’s “fight against Islamist terror”, while Cameron, who had been forced to resign by Gove’s Brexit misadventure, returned to serve as foreign minister in 2024 and took such a skewed pro-Israel stance that he is even reported to have threatened the International Criminal Court’s head Karim Khan. Ironically, and underlining the regularity with which Israel’s supporters turn on one another, Khan had himself been first supported by Israel’s supporters but outraged them by investigating South African accusations of genocide.

A Laborious Campaign of Persecution

Nor should corrosively slavish partisanship to Israel be considered an exclusively Tory malady: under Keir Starmer, whose Labour party has ruled since 2024, the state has only doubled down. Starmer took over the party after his leftist predecessor, Jeremy Corbyn, had been viciously smeared with, among other things, spurious accusations of anti-Semitism for his outspoken sympathy with Palestine. At the outset of the genocide, Starmer infamously endorsed Israel’s right to block the Palestinians from water, and his regime has continued its predecessor’s policy of crackdowns and frivolous “lawfare” against pro-Palestine activism. These reached a state of farce in autumn 2025 when a police ban on a notoriously violent far-right Israeli club, which had already attacked Muslims abroad, prompted keening howls of grief and outrage about alleged anti-Semitism virtually across a British political elite – only for Israel itself to cancel a local match with the club from fears of violence. The fact that legitimate fears about a demonstrably violent set of anti-Muslim hooligans could be reimagined and portrayed across the British political spectrum as anti-Semitism underscored the state of obeisance to which the British elite has subjected itself.

This month, Starmer was forced to dismiss his ambassador to the United States, Peter Mandelson, a longstanding intimate of both Blair and Epstein, already controversial before his close ties to the latter were unearthed. The revelations also prompted a gaffe from minister Wes Streeting, who had only very narrowly held onto his seat against Palestinian activist Leanne Mohamad in the 2024 election. By his own admission, no “shrinking violet” on Israel, Streeting released his 2025 texts to Mandelson, which showed his knowledge of Israel’s “rogue state behaviour” that “Israel is committing war crimes before our eyes”. These texts show that ministers were privately aware that the same critics they were persecuting at home were correct in their condemnation of Israel and the British links to it.

An undated photograph released by the U.S. Justice Department showing Jeffrey Epstein, right, and Peter Mandelson. [PC: The NYT]

The regime has been far more sensitive to far-right agitation by Farage and Robinson, which relied heavily on the same anti-Muslim propaganda promoted by Israel: the 2020s have seen a series of protests and riots aimed at foreigners in general and Muslims most specifically, gleefully supported by far-right oligarch Elon Musk who has regularly promoted, even with the most childish attempts, the claim that Muslim immigration is destroying Britain. Rather than confront these head-on, the British government has tried to prove their patriotism with more and more draconian crackdowns that, in their haste to classify political opponents as terrorists, intersect with the crackdown on such groups as Palestine Action. That any number of corrosive, destructive precedents that bode ill for British institutions and public life are being set seems to be of no concern.

Conclusion

Palestine was impacted by Britain during the colonial period, but today the genocide in Palestine has reverberated right back into British politics, into its streets, and its public discourse. The tumultuous events of mid-2020s Britain have not only shown a moral rot at the heart of British politics, but also the fact that steadfastness of the sort that Palestine Action so sturdily displayed under so much maliciously constructed pressure, ultimately pays off.

As Allah tells us in the Quran:

“And say, ‘Truth has come, and falsehood has departed. Indeed is falsehood, [by nature], ever bound to depart.” [Surah Al’Isra: 17;81]

 

Related:

– Damning Report On PREVENT Program In The UK

– Quranic Verses For Steadfastness For The Valiant Protesters On Campus

The post Bipartisan Rot Uncovered As British Crackdown On Pro-Palestine Activists Falters appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Around the world, Muslims rejoice with anticipation and excitement for the blessed month. They get to wake up before dawn with lights on for suhoor, set “Ramadan goals,” deepen their relationship with the Qur’an, stand shoulder-to-shoulder in taraweeh prayers, retreat into the masjid for i‘tikaf, and ultimately celebrate Eid with their families in lit-up mosques. 

But for other Uyghurs and myself in the diaspora, this experience summons a different reality — one where our hearts turn to our people in Chinese-occupied East Turkistan (Xinjiang), a land whose occupation and suffering still remain largely forgotten by the ummah.

I describe the Ramadan most Muslims know, because it feels increasingly necessary to name what Uyghur Muslims have been denied, in a land where Islam has been woven into the fabric of life since the 10th century. And it still feels like the community has so much more to do and learn to understand the gravity of our genocide. 

How many years has it been since Uyghurs in East Turkistan last heard the adhan echo through their neighborhoods? How many years have they been forced to eat suhoor in darkness, fearing that a lit kitchen might be flagged as “extremism,” a suspicion that can lead to a decade or more behind torture and death-ridden prison walls? 

How many Uyghur students have been compelled to eat in daylight under the watchful eyes of teachers, forced to prove they are not fasting? How many have been publicly humiliated, coerced into drinking alcohol or eating pork during the holiest month, performing loyalty to a state that criminalizes Islam in its entirety?

What does Eid even look like when often at least one family member is in prison, parents are separated from their children because they are forcibly sent to state-run orphanages, and thousands of mosques are either closed, or demolished and repurposed into propaganda centers? What does Eid look like when the Chinese government criminalizes gatherings, despite the centrality of family visits and communal celebration in Uyghur culture?

What depths of trauma have the more than one million detainees and prisoners endured inside a system that not only stripped them of religious freedom, but twisted Islam itself into an instrument of suffering and death? What depths of trauma must someone endure to be sent to these prisons for praying, naming a child Muhammad, or owning a Qur’an — only then to be locked up, tortured, indoctrinated, and forced to renounce one’s faith?

I will never forget the stories and testimonies of Uyghur prisoners, like that of Adil Abdulghufur, an Uyghur man who told me the unfathomable horrors he experienced for 18 years behind Chinese prison walls. I interviewed him in 2016, one year before the Chinese government started rounding up over a million Uyghurs and other Turkic people into concentration camps and prisons.

“Adil Abdulghufur during an interview with the author in Istanbul, Türkiye, 2016.

 

Below are two excerpts from Adil’s interview highlighting China’s crackdown on religion in prison:

Adil: “I will tell you about one disaster that happened to me. In 2002 or 2003, they said I called the adhan in my sleep. Even saying bismillah is forbidden. We are not allowed to pray. If we sit still, they accuse us of praying. We are expected to constantly read and memorize Chinese laws.

That night, they dragged me from my bunk by my feet. I was naked. As they pulled me across the floor, the skin on my back and head tore. There was blood.

It was January. The snow outside had frozen like ice.

In the prison office, soldiers demanded to know what I had done. I told them I must have been talking in my sleep.

They said, ‘You screamed “Allahu Akbar.”’

I said I had not prayed. They accused me of lying and beat me — like wool rolled and kicked to make kighiz (a rug)  — until they were exhausted.

After nearly half an hour, I could no longer feel the blows. My body was drenched in sweat, dirt, and mud.

They threw clothes at me. Then they chained my hands and feet.

Finally, they hung a 25-kilogram cement board around my neck. Carved into it were the words: ‘For stubborn prisoners who refuse to bow to Chinese rule.’”

———

There is something else the Chinese authorities do, something the international community must hear.

Every year in March, they would administer a questionnaire to prisoners like us. Hundreds of questions are placed before those considered “patriotic” or “faithful” Turkistanis, or prisoners accused of opposing the Chinese government.

The first question is always the same:

“Is there a God or not?”

We are not allowed to explain. Only “yes” or “no.”

Then the following questions would come up:

“Were the heavens and the earth created by God or by nature?”
“Can the Holy Qur’an save mankind?”
“Is East Turkistan part of China, or is it a separate country?”
“Are you praying in prison?”
“Will you pray in the future?”
“What will you do once released?”
“What kind of person is Osama Bin Laden?”
“If Chinese and Uyghurs live together, will society flourish?”

Each answer must be reduced to a single word. Yes or no. No context. No explanation.

Based on those answers, we are sorted into four groups, each marked by a colored card.

Those assigned a red card are permitted to walk upright. They are the ones deemed compliant: prisoners who deny God, who affirm that East Turkistan is China, who give the “correct” answers.

Those given a yellow card must walk with their hands locked behind their heads. Those with brown cards are forced to move bent over, hands behind their heads. And those given green cards, my group, are not allowed to walk at all. We must crawl.

In 2002, my mother was allowed to visit for the first time. I had not seen her in four or five years. When the guards asked whether I wanted to see her, how could I refuse?

The distance from my cell to the visitors’ center was nearly a mile. They told me I could see my mother, but only if I crawled. I told them I would roll if I had to.

So I crawled.”

———

According to Gene Bunin, founder of the Xinjiang Victims Database, an online archive documenting known individuals detained in East Turkistan, more than 500,000 individuals are estimated to have been imprisoned, with roughly half believed to have been released after completing their sentences. Many of the charges stem from ordinary religious practices, prosecuted under vague accusations such as ‘extremism,’ ‘inciting religious hatred,’ and similar offenses.

The Uyghurs do not have the means to freely broadcast their suffering. Their cries are muffled by walls of fear, propaganda, and relentless censorship imposed by the Chinese government.

Ramadan is not meant to be only a personal, spiritual retreat. To isolate ourselves from the world and grow numb to suffering runs contrary to its very purpose. Rather, Ramadan should sharpen our awareness, soften our hearts, and move us toward action.

The least we can do this month is keep the Uyghurs in our conversations and our du‘a, learn their history and their stories, and strive to stand more consciously for the betterment of the ummah.

May Allah uplift and ease the suffering of our brothers and sisters in Chinese-occupied East Turkistan, Indian-occupied Kashmir, Burma, Palestine, and for Muslims oppressed in all corners of the earth.

May He grant us the strength to do more for our brethren, and never allow us to grow weary of doing even the bare minimum.

 

Related:

– Ramadan At The Uyghur Mosque: Community, Prayers, And Grief

– Is Your Temu Package Made With Uyghur Forced Labour?

The post An Unending Grief: Uyghurs And Ramadan Under Chinese Occupation appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Everyday rhythms in Gaza are dictated by water trucks, market sales and fear of famine, making rest impossible.

PenLink embraced by diplomats despite Meta ban.

“Socio-economic death sentence” makes it illegal to receive even food or medicine from a third party.

The Muslim holy month of Ramadan, featuring celebrations, prayers, pre-dawn breakfasts and post-sundown meals, began at sunrise in the Middle East and a day later in much of Asia. In the Muslim lunar calendar, months begin only when the new moon is sighted, which can lead to variations of a day or two

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This series is a collaboration between Dr. Ali and Muslim Matters, bringing Quranic wisdom to the questions Muslim youth are actually asking.

What is Imposter Syndrome?

Imposter Syndrome is the persistent belief that you don’t deserve your achievements, that you’re a fraud who’s just gotten lucky, and that eventually everyone will discover you’re not as capable as they think.

For Muslim teens, this takes on an additional spiritual dimension. It’s not just “Am I smart enough for this college?” It’s “Am I Muslim enough to represent Islam? Am I pious enough to talk about faith? Am I good enough for Allah to even hear my du’a?”

5 Signs Your Teen Might Be Experiencing Imposter Syndrome

1. Downplaying Achievements They get an A+ but say “the test was easy.” They earn an award, but attribute it to “luck.” They can’t accept compliments without deflecting. They often feel like they are “boasting” if they share any victory, even with close family.
2. Overpreparation and Perfectionism They spend hours on assignments that should take minutes, convinced anything less than perfect will expose them as inadequate.
3. Avoiding Leadership or Visibility They don’t raise their hand even when they know the answer. They refuse to lead prayer or give presentations, saying “someone else would do it better” or “someone else is more qualified.”
4. Spiritual Self-Doubt “Who am I to teach someone about Islam when I have so many faults?” “My du’as probably don’t even count anyway.” “I’m not one of those ‘good Muslims.’”
5. Constant Comparison They measure their behind-the-scenes struggles against everyone else’s highlight reels and, as a result, always feel like they come up short.

The Prophet Who Said “I’m Not Qualified”

In the video above, Dr. Ali unpacks one of the most surprising moments in the Quran: When Allah chose Musa for prophethood and commanded him to confront Pharaoh, Musa’s immediate response was essentially, “Can you please send someone else.”

From Surah Ash-Shu’ara [26:12-13]:

“He said, ‘But my Lord, I am afraid that they will deny me. And that my chest will get tight from anxiety, and my tongue will be tied up, so—maybe—send Harun.’”

Here’s one of the greatest Messengers ever—chosen directly by Allah, speaking directly to Allah (kalimullah)—and he’s basically saying: “I have a speech impediment. I’m not eloquent enough. My brother would be better. I’m afraid I’ll just mess this up.”

Sound familiar?

Allah’s Response: The Lesson for Our Teens

Allah doesn’t say, “You’re right, Musa, you’re not good enough. Let me find someone else.”

Instead, from Surah Ash-Shu’ara [26:15]:

“Absolutely not! So go, both of you, with Our signs. And We will be with you, listening.”

Allah didn’t choose Musa despite his speech impediment. Allah chose Musa with his speech impediment.

The mission was never about Musa being perfect. It was about Musa showing up and trusting in Allah.

The Deeper Wisdom: Your Weakness as Allah’s Canvas for Greatness

Here’s what most of us miss: Musa’s speech impediment wasn’t a bug—it was a feature.

When Musa finally confronted Pharaoh (with his stutter, with his anxiety, with his obvious humanity), it became undeniable that the miracles weren’t coming from Musa’s eloquence. They were coming from Allah’s power working through Musa’s weakness.

If Musa had been perfectly eloquent and confident, people might have attributed his success to his natural talent. But because Musa was visibly imperfect, everyone knew: This is Allah’s work, not Musa’s.

Your teen’s weakness might be exactly where Allah’s strength shows up most clearly.

The student who’s nervous about leading prayer? When they finally do it, people see courage, not perfection.

The new Muslim who fumbles through explaining Islam? When someone accepts Islam through that conversation, it’s clearly Allah’s guidance, not their eloquence.

How to Support a Teen Struggling with Imposter Syndrome

1. Validate the Feeling, Challenge the Thought

• Don’t say: “You’re being ridiculous, of course you’re good enough.”
• Instead, maybe say: “I understand feeling that way. But let’s look at the evidence. Let’s look at what you have actually accomplished.”

2. Share Your Own Imposter Moments

• Teens need to know that even adults—even prophets—feel inadequate sometimes
• Your vulnerability gives them permission to be human

3. Reframe “Qualification”

• Allah doesn’t call the qualified; He qualifies the called
• The question isn’t “Are you perfect?” It’s “Are you willing to show up with sincerity and put your trust in Allah?” Remember that Allah asks of us only this—the effort is on us, the result is in His Hands.

4. Focus on Process, Not Just Outcome

• Celebrate effort and growth, not just achievements
• “I’m proud of how hard you worked” vs. “I’m proud you got an A”

5. Teach the Islamic Perspective on Tawakkul

• You do your best, then trust Allah with the results
• Your job is to make the sincere effort; Allah is the One who grants success

Discussion Questions for Families

For Teens:

1. What’s your “speech impediment”—the thing you believe disqualifies you from serving Allah or helping others?
2. If you knew Allah was with you (as He promised Musa), what’s one thing you’d do that you’ve been avoiding?
3. Can you think of a time when your weakness actually made you more relatable or effective?

For Parents:

1. Have you ever shared your own experiences with Imposter Syndrome with your children?
2. How might your praise style (focusing on outcomes vs. effort) be contributing to their fear of failure?
3. What would it look like to create a home environment where “not being good enough YET” is celebrated as part of growth?

For Discussion Together:

1. Who in our family tends to downplay their achievements? Why do you think that is?
2. How can we remind each other that Allah uses imperfect people for perfect purposes?
3. What’s one area where each of us could “show up” despite feeling unqualified?

The Invitation

Imposter Syndrome thrives in silence. When teens believe they’re the only ones feeling inadequate, the lie grows stronger.

But when they learn that even someone as great as the Prophet Musa—one of the five greatest messengers (Ulul-‘Azm)—felt exactly what they’re feeling? And that Allah used him anyway?

That changes everything.

This Ramadan, perhaps the most important conversation you can have with your teen isn’t about their GPA or their college plans. It’s about reminding them: You don’t have to be perfect to be valuable. You just have to be sincere.

Continue the Journey

This is Night 2 of Dr. Ali’s 30-part Ramadan series, “30 Nights with the Quran: Stories for the Seeking Soul.”

Tomorrow, insha Allah: Night 3 tackles one of the hardest questions Muslim teens face: “When Your Parents Don’t Understand”—navigating the tension between honoring parents and maintaining your own integrity through the wisdom of Surat Luqman.

For daily extended reflections with journaling prompts, personal stories, and deeper resources, join Dr. Ali’s email community: https://30nightswithquran.beehiiv.com/

Related:

Who Am I Really? What Surat Al-‘Asr Teaches Muslim Teens About Identity | Night 1 with the Qur’an

30 Nights with the Qur’an: A Ramadan Series for Muslim Teens

The post 5 Signs Your Teen is Struggling with Imposter Syndrome | Night 2 with the Qur’an appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

You could die before it arrives.

This is not morbid. This is the mathematics of existence that every Muslim knows but rarely speaks aloud. Last Ramadan, people prayed beside you who are now beneath the earth. They had grocery lists for this year. They had plans. They assumed, as you are assuming now, that another Ramadan was guaranteed.

It was not.

And so, before we discuss iftars and taraweeh schedules and Quran khatm goals, before we debate moon sightings and prayer times and which masjid has the best qari, we must begin with the only truth that matters: you are not promised this Ramadan. If you reach it, you reach it because Allah extended your breath that far. Every fast you complete is a gift you did not earn. Every prayer you stand for is borrowed time being spent on its only worthy purchase.

This is not meant to frighten you. It is meant to wake you up.

Because here is what follows from this truth: Allah has already written your Ramadan. The rizq you will receive, the worship you will be granted the ability to perform, the sins you will be protected from or fall into, the tears you will cry, and the prayers that will be answered. All of it inscribed by a Hand far wiser than yours. Your task is not to engineer a perfect Ramadan. Your task is to show up for the one you were written for.

The Great Surfacing

Ramadan has a way of drawing Muslims out from everywhere. It is perhaps the only month where the ummah becomes geographically visible to itself.

Parking lots at masajid overflow. Shoes pile up at entrances in quantities that would alarm a fire marshal. The younger sisters appear in abayas and dresses that spark whispered debates among the elders. The younger brothers walk in wearing crisp thobs, smelling of oud and cologne, looking halfway between piety and a fashion shoot. People who haven’t prayed in congregation for eleven months suddenly materialize in the front rows.

And before you let judgment creep into your heart, before you think “Ramadan Muslims,” remember: Allah brought them. Whatever thread pulled them back to the masjid, that thread was woven by Ar-Rahman. You do not know what battles they fought to be there. You do not know what your presence looks like from the outside either.

This surfacing is one of Ramadan’s quiet miracles. The ummah, scattered and fragmented for most of the year, suddenly remembers it is one body. For thirty days, we eat together, fast together, pray together, and break together. The isolation of modern Muslim life temporarily lifts.

The Interior Architecture

There is something outsiders cannot see: the interior architecture of a fasting day.

There is the body shock of the first few days. The headaches. The fog that descends around 2pm and refuses to lift. Your body, accustomed to its constant inputs, protests. And then, for most, adaptation. The hunger becomes background noise. You discover reserves you forgot you had. You realize how much of your eating was never really about need.

Suhoor is not simply a meal. What you consume before dawn will either carry you or collapse under you. This is not unspiritual. The Prophet ﷺ told us there is blessing in suhoor. He ﷺ did not romanticize unnecessary suffering.

The Two Ledgers

Here is where we must be honest with ourselves.

Ramadan amplifies. Whatever you were doing before, you will likely do more of it now. If you were someone who prayed, read Quran, and gave charity, Ramadan will pour fuel on that fire. If you were someone who gossiped, slandered, and wasted time, Ramadan does not automatically interrupt those patterns.

The same ummah that comes together for taraweeh also comes together to discuss who is marrying whom, whose children are failing, whose faith seems performative. The post-iftar gathering can be a garden of remembrance or a swamp of backbiting. Often, tragically, it is both.

The fasting of the stomach is the easy part. The fasting of the tongue, the eyes, the ears: this is where most of us fail. I include myself in that “us.” I am not writing from above the struggle. I am writing from within it. And yet the Prophet ﷺ told us clearly:

“Whoever does not give up false speech and acting upon it, Allah has no need of his giving up food and drink.”1

Your Ramadan is not measured in calories avoided. It is measured in what you choose to consume and produce in other ways.

Where Do You Stand?

Ramadan, if you let it, will show you exactly where you are. Not where you think you are. Not where you tell others you are. Where you actually are.

When you stand in the masjid for taraweeh, what is your experience? Some people pray all twenty rakats and feel their souls lifted. Others leave after four, or eight, and carry guilt about it.

But let us be careful here. Some people get overwhelmed easily in crowded spaces. Some have ADHD and find it nearly impossible to stay still for extended periods, their bodies screaming to move while their hearts want to remain. Some are hunted by intrusive thoughts that ambush them the moment they try to focus, turning every rakat into a battle they did not choose. Some listen to the Quran being recited and feel nothing, no connection, no khushu, just words washing over them while they wonder what is wrong with them.

These struggles are real. They are not excuses. They are the specific tests Allah has written for specific people. The person who stays for four rakats while fighting their own mind may be exerting more effort than the one who breezes through twenty. Only Allah knows what each prayer costs the one praying it.

And Ramadan does not pause the dunya. Exams still happen. Work deadlines still loom. The Western calendar does not bend for the Islamic one. This is hard. Do not let anyone tell you it is not hard. And yet this too was written for you. What is asked of you is not perfection. What is asked is presence.

So the question is: are you honest with yourself about where you are? Are you showing up with whatever capacity you have, even when that capacity feels pathetically small? There is no condemnation in these questions. There is only clarity. And clarity, however uncomfortable, is a mercy.

The Loneliness No One Mentions

We must talk about this.

Ramadan, for all its communal beauty, can be devastatingly lonely.

Not everyone experiences the communal beauty that comes with Ramadan.

If you have a spouse, children, a household that fasts together and prays together and breaks bread together, Ramadan feels like coming home. The table is full. Suhoor is someone gently waking you. Iftar is noise and laughter and small hands reaching for samosas before the adhan finishes.

But not everyone has this.

There are students far from home, breaking fast alone in dorms and studio apartments, the adhan playing from their phones because there is no one to say “Allahu Akbar” with. There are singles who watch families pour into the masjid while they sit alone on the edges, wondering if anyone sees them. There are converts whose biological families do not understand, who hide their fasting at work because explaining feels exhausting.

There are the poor. And we must speak of the poor specifically.

There are people who come to the masjid iftar not for community, but because it is the most reliable meal they will have. And some of them take extra food to go. They fill containers. They wrap things in napkins. And they feel eyes on them. They sense the judgment of those who have never known what it is to be uncertain about tomorrow’s food.

Let this be very clear: if someone takes extra food from a community iftar, that is between them and Allah . Your job is to make sure there is enough to take. Your job is to make taking it feel dignified, not shameful. The Prophet ﷺ fed people. He did not audit them.

If you are not one of these people, you have been given something. Do not mistake comfort for virtue.

The Assignment

Whatever else you plan for this Ramadan, the Quran khatm, the taraweeh attendance, the dua lists, the charity goals, add one thing that requires nothing but intention:

Help at least one person.

Not an organization. Not a cause. A person. A specific human being whose Ramadan becomes easier because you existed in it.

Maybe it is the brother who always sits alone. You sit with him. Maybe it is the single mother struggling to manage children during taraweeh. You watch them for one night. Maybe it is the student who cannot afford iftar groceries. You fill their fridge quietly, without announcement, without expecting thanks. Maybe it is someone at your own table who is drowning, and you never noticed.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“Whoever provides iftar for a fasting person will have a reward like his, without anything being diminished from the reward of the fasting person.”2

But I think the deeper wisdom is this: Ramadan is not a solo endeavor. It was never meant to be. We are an ummah. We fast together, not merely at the same time but for one another.

The Ramadan You Were Written For

You do not know what this Ramadan holds. You do not know if you will reach its end. You do not know which night will be Laylat al-Qadr, which dua will be answered, which prostration will change everything.

You do not know. And this is the point.

So, enter this month not as an architect but as a guest. Accept what is given. Show up for what is asked. Forgive yourself when you fall short. Return, again and again, to the One who invited you here.

I will be trying to do the same. I do not know where I stand. I fluctuate. I falter. But I want good for you the way I want it for myself, and I ask Allah to help us both.

May Allah make it your best Ramadan yet. Not by your definition of best, but by His.

Ameen

 

Related:

– Expect Trials This Ramadan…As There Should Be I Ust. Justin Parrott

– The Architecture of Withholding: When Charity Becomes Control

1    https://sunnah.com/ibnmajah:16892    https://sunnah.com/tirmidhi:807

The post The Ramadan You Were Written For : Show Up In Every Way Possible appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

The loss of sacred spaces during the period of observance and the ongoing conflict reminds us of the importance of cherishing food

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Today starts the first week of Ramadan, and I have the great pleasure of digging into The Sudanese Kitchen by Omer Al Tijani. The war in Sudan has been going on for almost three years now, and Ramadan is a month that arrives with heightened feelings for those fasting in the middle of conflict and displacement. The cookbook, a first-of-its-kind collection of Sudanese recipes, is both a celebration of Sudan and a reminder of all that is at stake.

Al Tijani first realised he needed to learn how to make his own Sudanese food while he was a student at the University of Manchester in the early 2010s. The packages of treats his mother prepared never lasted long enough; he grew sick of student food and began looking for recipes, but there were few resources. Over 15 years, his passion for tracing and documenting Sudanese recipes took him all over Sudan, and his work became, as he told me, “bound” in Sudan’s political story. He gathered recipes and food culture on the ground during the revolution that overthrew president Omar al-Bashir, Sudan’s dictator of 30 years.

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South Lakes Islamic Centre, which has been targeted by far right, will host nightly prayers before official opening in July

It is a cold night before Ramadan, and a group of men are completing health and safety checks inside Cumbria’s partly completed South Lakes Islamic Centre (SLIC).

The building is a mere shell, with exposed bricks, hanging wires and no fitted lights or heaters, but a large area has been cleared of construction materials to host nightly congregational prayers.

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This series is a collaboration between Dr. Ali and MuslimMatters, bringing Quranic wisdom to the questions Muslim youth are actually asking.

The Crisis No One Talks About

If you’re a Muslim teen in 2026, you’re living in multiple realities at once. At home, you’re expected to be the “good Muslim kid.” At school, you navigate being visibly different. Online, you curate a version of yourself that gets likes. At the masjid, you try to look pious enough that the aunties and uncles at the masjid don’t gossip.

Underneath all of it is a terrifying question: “Who am I when nobody’s watching?”

This isn’t just teenage angst. It’s literally an existential crisis unique to young Muslims in the West—the exhausting work of code-switching between worlds, wearing different masks for different audiences, and wondering if there’s anything authentic underneath.

The Quranic Answer: Surat Al-‘Asr

In the video above, Dr. Ali unpacks how Surat Al-‘Asr—just three ayaat, just over fifty Arabic words—contains a complete roadmap for identity formation. In fact, Imam al-Shafi’i famously said that if Allah had revealed only this surah, it would have been sufficient for all of humanity.

Here’s the framework:

The Diagnosis:

“By time, indeed all people are in a state of loss…”

We’re not lost because we’re bad people. We’re lost because we’re performing, wandering, chasing things that don’t last. Every second spent pretending to be someone you’re not is time you can never recover.

The Prescription—Four Components of Real Identity:

1. Iman (Belief) – Not just “I believe that Allah exists,” but having a relationship with truth. Knowing what you stand for. This requires knowledge—you can’t build faith without learning about Allah, His Messenger, and His revelation.
2. Righteous Action – Your identity isn’t just internal. It’s what you DO. You become who you are through your choices. Knowledge without action is incomplete; it’s hypocrisy.
3. Encourage Truth – You can’t build identity alone. You need people who will be real with you and vice versa. Your family, your community, your friends, your tribe—these relationships shape you.
4. Encourage Patience – Becoming who you’re meant to be takes time. Expect resistance, challenges, setbacks. All of that requires sabr (patience).

From Theory to Practice

The revolutionary message here is simple but profound: Your real identity is built in time, not found in a moment.

You’re not discovering yourself like some Hollywood movie. You’re constructing yourself through small, consistent choices. Every prayer you choose to pray. Every truth you choose to speak. Every moment you choose patience over reactivity. Every moment you choose good over comfort or compromise.

This relieves the pressure. You don’t have to wake up one day suddenly knowing who you are. You become who you are through the daily work of showing up—even when nobody’s watching.

Discussion Questions for Families

These questions can help parents and teens have meaningful conversations about identity:

For Teens:

1. Which of the four components (belief, action, community, patience) feels hardest for you right now? Why?
2. If you took off all your “masks”—the version you show your parents, friends, school, online—what would be left?
3. What’s one small action you can take this Ramadan to build your identity deliberately rather than let others define it for you?

For Parents:

1. How do you model the balance between honoring your cultural identity and allowing your children to develop their own authentic Muslim identity?
2. In what ways might your expectations for your teen create pressure to perform rather than space to become?
3. How can you create an environment where your teen feels safe to explore who they are without fear of judgment?

For Discussion Together:

1. What does “being Muslim AND yourself at the same time” look like in our family?
2. How can we support each other in building authentic identity rather than just performing for different audiences?

Why This Matters Now

The rate of Muslim youth disengagement is rising—not primarily because of lack of faith, but because of identity exhaustion. When being Muslim feels like one more performance to maintain, many young people simply… stop.

Surat Al-‘Asr offers a way out: authenticity through action, community through truth-telling, growth through patience, and identity rooted in Allah, rather than approval.

This Ramadan, as we focus on the Quran, perhaps the most important question isn’t “How much can I read this month?” but “Who am I becoming through this process?”

Continue the Journey

This is Night 1 of Dr. Ali’s 30-part Ramadan series, “30 Nights with the Quran: Stories for the Seeking Soul.” Each night explores a different struggle Muslim teens face through the lens of Quranic stories and wisdom.

Tomorrow, insha Allah: Night 2 tackles Imposter Syndrome through the story of the Prophet Musa’s self-doubt when Allah chose him for the greatest mission of his life.

For daily extended reflections with journaling, personal stories, and deeper resources, join Dr. Ali’s email community: https://30nightswithquran.beehiiv.com/

Related:

30 Nights with the Qur’an: A Ramadan Series for Muslim Teens

The post Who Am I Really? What Surat Al-‘Asr Teaches Muslim Teens About Identity | Night 1 with the Qur’an appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Introduction

Wherever one finds themselves in life, it’s always been understood, especially for Muslims, that to fulfill our obligations properly, we have to first acknowledge our responsibilities.

A parent has a responsibility in how they speak and behave in front of their child. An employee of a charity has a responsibility in how they present themselves publicly as a representative of a mission. An Imam has a responsibility in the statements he makes before a congregation that sees him as a spiritual guide. A podcast host has a responsibility in how they present ideas to their audience and whether they’re doing so with honesty, clarity, and sincerity.

But these personal responsibilities don’t exist in isolation. They’re shaped and pressured by the larger systems we live within. The choices we make, even the ones that feel private or apolitical, are often molded by the very forces we claim to resist.

The average Muslim-American lives in a bubble of comfort, built by systems that rest on the backs of others, both domestically and overseas. We know this, of course, and so we give to charity, engage in da’wah, support various initiatives to lessen our guilt. But if we’re being truly honest, those things may or may not be enough to offset the moral debt we awaken with every morning as taxpayers funding a machine of subjugation.

And every so often, a moment arrives that demands more than just relief work. A moment that demands moral clarity. A moment that demands a line be drawn. For Muslim-Americans, 2024 was that moment.

The Moment That Demanded More

I recently listened to the MuslimMatters podcast featuring Imam Dawud Walid and Zainab bint Younus. While I appreciated much of the discussion, I walked away disheartened by what felt like a bias dressed up as “objective analysis” regarding the 2024 election.

Let me be clear: I have a deep admiration for Imam Dawud Walid. His writings during the 2010s, when activism often took the place of religion, helped keep me grounded at a time when others seemed swept up by trends and social media validation.

But part of honoring those we respect is offering principled disagreement when it’s needed, especially when the public is involved. And while much of the podcast was beneficial (and I encourage others to listen to it), the portion I took issue with was this:

“I voted for a third-party candidate and encouraged others privately to do the same, not from the minbar.

In retrospect, Trump is far worse now than in his first term. He is doing greater harm to society and to Muslims.

I am stating clearly on this MuslimMatters podcast: I made an error in that calculation.”

To make matters worse, the podcast host responded not by probing or playing devil’s advocate, but by saying: “I appreciate your honesty. I hope others reflect similarly.” As if what was just confessed was the abandonment of heresy in favor of orthodoxy.

While Imam Dawud’s statement was the centerpiece of that exchange, Zainab bint Younus, who served as both interviewer and platform, did more than simply moderate. Her framing shaped the narrative. By praising his reversal and expressing hope that others follow suit, she implicitly cast principled third-party voters as those needing to “see the light.” That kind of moral positioning deserves scrutiny. If the interviewer is going to steer the conversation toward a particular outcome, that influence shouldn’t be cloaked in neutrality; it needs to be owned. And if she truly believes that preserving “representation” or “access” justifies empowering genocidaires, she should say so plainly.

To be fair, podcast hosts are entitled to their leanings, but those leanings should be named explicitly, not cloaked in language that implies objectivity or consensus.

And in that exchange, I saw a familiar problem: a refusal to ask the most important question of all. What would the price have been for not drawing the line? That question was never even posed in the interview, despite the fact that the answer was written across our screens every single day.

What Would That Price Have Looked Like?

Before discussing anything else, let’s recall what the world looked like in 2024.

Starting October 7, 2023, we woke up and went to sleep every day to images, videos, and heartbreak worse than the day before. And throughout those endless months that turned into years, our grief and calls for action were met either with state-sponsored violence or gaslighting.

Hind Rajab was murdered under the Biden-Harris administration. Khalid “Soul of My Soul” Nabhan was murdered under the Biden-Harris administration. Fathers digging their children out of rubble, only to hear their screams fade into silence, happened under the Biden-Harris administration.

The Muslim-American community saw all of this. And after organizing protests, fundraisers, educational sessions, and community campaigns, we turned to political advocacy, specifically because it was an election year. And because everything we’d done up to that point was belittled, dismissed, and ignored, we drew a red line.

And yet here we are in 2026, with everyone offering commentary on the cost of that red line, while almost no one is examining the cost of not drawing it.

Let’s imagine we hadn’t. Let’s say the Muslim community—fractured, tired, traumatized, but still largely compliant—decided to line up behind the Harris-Walz ticket in 2024. Let’s say we ignored the genocidal campaign they bankrolled. Kamala Harris, vice president of the administration that made Muslim blood run like a river, would have been rewarded with a full term. And to be clear, she wasn’t just complicit; she was positioning herself to lead the violence.

John Kirby, who served as White House National Security Communications Advisor from 2022 to 2025, himself said:

“She’s been a full partner in our policies in the Middle East, particularly with our policies towards Israel and the war in Gaza—a full partner, involved in nearly every conversation the president has had with the prime minister.”

And her own words during the campaign season were just as explicit:

“I will always ensure that America has the strongest, most lethal fighting force.”

“I will always stand up for Israel’s right to defend itself.”

“ICE has a purpose. ICE has a role. ICE should exist.”

These statements were intentional declarations of intent, not gaffes or misquotes. She signaled her readiness to continue, and even escalate, the violence. And so, the Muslim-American voter faced a calculation: Should I vote for Harris-Walz and protect my comforts at the expense of my brothers and sisters abroad? Or should I vote third party, not because it’s easy, but because it’s right?

For the first time in decades, many Muslim-Americans chose the latter. They understood the stakes. They understood that being moral isn’t just about what you oppose; it’s about what you’re willing to risk. Because how could we justify endorsing the first livestreamed genocide in history, waged against a people the Prophet ﷺ described in this hadith:

“There shall always be a group of my Ummah clearly upon the truth, subjugating their enemies. Those who oppose them will not vanquish them except for some calamities that shall (occasionally) befall them. And they shall remain upon this until the command of Allah (i.e., Day of Judgment) comes.”

He ﷺ was asked: “And where will they be?”

He ﷺ replied, “In Bayt al-Maqdis, and the neighborhoods around Bayt al-Maqdis.”

That was the choice before us in 2024. And for the first time in decades, many Muslims chose to stand with that enduring group, despite the uncertainty, despite the cost. But that choice brought with it a far more serious question, one that Imam Dawud and Zainab bint Younus raised in passing, but never truly reckoned with.

What Kind of Dīn Would We Be Transmitting?

In the interview, both Imam Dawud and Zainab bint Younus voiced concern about safeguarding the ability to practice and transmit Islam in the West. Imam Dawud said:

“As Muslims living in the West, our priority must be safeguarding our ability to transmit the dīn to future generations and to practice and propagate Islam.”

And I ask sincerely: What kind of dīn would we be transmitting if we voted for genocide? Would our institutions be preserved if we rewarded those who funded the destruction of Bayt al-Maqdis? Would our youth learn moral clarity if we taught them that war crimes are tolerable when committed by diverse cabinets?

Because if our religious practice can only survive through allegiance to mass murderers, it’s not being preserved, it’s being hollowed out. A dīn that adapts to genocide isn’t being transmitted, rather it’s being repurposed as a utility.

And this isn’t abstract theology. It’s the question our children will ask us when they learn what happened. And when, not if, they ask, we won’t just have to answer for our silence, but for the political choices we made in the face of atrocity.

This Was Never About a Quick Win

Critics for the past year have often asked: “What did your third-party vote even accomplish?”

The answer: It was never about quick wins. It was about ending a cycle of political dependency and moral compromise. For 25 years, Muslim-Americans voted based on short-term comfort. That mindset bred a culture of exceptionalism, where we thought we could keep compromising without consequence.

That mindset is what many critics, including Imam Dawud and Zainab, have rightly criticized in other contexts. Yet when it came time to make a sacrifice that actually carried cost, those same critics hesitated. This wasn’t a protest vote to feel righteous. It was a refusal to normalize betrayal. It was a statement: You don’t get to commit genocide and still get our votes.

We’ve been told that we need to be pragmatic, but the fact of the matter is that pragmatism without principle is surrender, not strategy. And had we not taken this stand, many of us would have become what Imam Dawud warned about on the very same podcast: cultural Muslims, who wear religion like an outfit, not a commitment.

And if our community continues down that path, trading integrity for influence, trading sacrifice for comfort, we shouldn’t be surprised when history treats us not as moral leaders, but as cautionary tales.

Historical Memory and Qur’anic Warning

In Surah Al-Ahzab, when 10,000 marched on Madinah to wipe out the Muslims, Allah describes four responses among the people of Madinah:

1. The hypocrites
2. Those who criticized the Muslims instead of the enemy
3. Those who let fear make them flee
4. The believers who stood firm

About the third group, Allah says:

“Another group of them asked the Prophet’s permission to leave, saying, ‘Our homes are vulnerable,’ while in fact they were not vulnerable. They only wished to flee. Had the city been sacked and they were asked to abandon faith, they would have done so with little hesitation.” —Qur’an 33:13–14

That ayah is a warning: compromise has a cost. And a people who grow used to betraying principles eventually forget what principles are. There are Muslims who voted for Harris-Walz in 2024 despite everything, and still ended up with the outcome they feared. To them, I recall the words of Imam Malik:

“The greatest loser is the one who sold his Hereafter for his share of the world. And an even greater loser is one who sold his Hereafter for someone else’s share.”

The Path Forward Requires More Than Regret

To those who say we should have voted for Harris-Walz to lessen the harm: We already tried that strategy. Twice. And all we got was a genocide in return. Since 2004, we’ve voted for the “lesser evil,” and all we got was more degradation, more humiliation, and maybe an occasional Eid tweet from the White House.

No more.

Back in 2017, Imam Dawud tweeted during Trump’s term:

“Wearing American flag hijabs and kufis reeks of pandering. Respectability politics is not the path to liberation for PoC in America, folks. Begging for acceptance earns further disrespect and humiliation. Be yourself, and don’t seek dignity from the status quo.”

I ask Imam Dawud and others: What changed? Why does that principle no longer apply when the flag is held by someone “less evil”?

Let this be the start of something better: A politics rooted in dignity, not dependency. A stance rooted in faith, not fear. A vote rooted in principle, not proximity to power.

Because when we meet Allah, the question won’t be, “Did you safeguard your dīn through compromise?” It’ll be, “Did you stand for it when it mattered most?”

And if safeguarding our dīn means staying silent in the face of genocide, then we’ve already lost it.

Related:

[Podcast] Should Muslims Ally with Conservatives or Progressives? | Imam Dawud Walid

The post What Would the Price Have Been for Not Drawing the Line? A Response to Imam Dawud Walid and Zainab bint Younus appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

We talk with Alex Mitov about why he quit Dell over Gaza. We also discuss whistleblowers at the Committee to Protect Journalists and wins for Palestine Action.

The mosque in Sydney’s west has received two threatening letters in lead up to Islam’s holiest month

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One of Australia’s largest mosques is facing what it says is the most “alarming situation” since the Cronulla race riots, with security bolstered ahead of Ramadan celebrations beginning on Wednesday.

Lakemba mosque, in Sydney’s west, has received two threatening letters in recent weeks, ahead of the beginning of Islam’s holiest month.

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His novel was praised for giving a voice to the victims of Algeria’s brutal civil war. But one woman has accused Kamel Daoud of having stolen her story – and the ensuing legal battle has become about much more than literary ethics

Every November, leading figures of French literature gather in the upstairs room of an old-fashioned Paris restaurant and decide on the best novel of the year. The ceremony is staid, traditional, down to the restaurant’s menu, full of classic dishes such as vol-au-vents and foie gras on toast. In pictures of the judging ceremony, the judges wear dark suits; each has four glasses of wine at hand.

The winner of the Goncourt, as the prize is called, is likely to enter the pantheon of world literature, joining a lineage of writers that includes Marcel Proust and Simone de Beauvoir. The prize is also a financial boon for authors. As the biggest award in French literature, the Goncourt means a prime spot in storefronts, foreign rights, prestige. By one estimate, winning the Goncourt means nearly €1m of sales in the weeks that follow.

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When we think of the holy month of Ramadan, the first images that often come to mind are its visible acts of devotion: fasting from fajr to maghrib, standing in tarāwīḥ prayers, reciting the Qur’an, giving charity, and gathering with family and friends for ifṭār. These practices are indeed central to Ramadan and carry immense reward.1

Yet beneath these outward actions lies a more quiet, often overlooked dimension of worship—one defined not by what is added to our lives, but by what is intentionally restrained.

Shaykh al-Islām Ibn Taymiyyah explains that “worship (ʿibādah) is a comprehensive term for everything that Allah loves and is pleased with, of outward and inward actions—of the heart, the tongue, and the limbs.”2 Worship, therefore, is not limited to what is done, but also includes what is deliberately avoided for the sake of Allah .

In a world shaped by excess, constant stimulation, and relentless consumption, Ramadan arrives as a divinely ordained pause. It teaches that spiritual refinement does not always emerge from accumulation, but from subtraction: less consumption, less speech, less reactivity, and fewer distractions. When practiced sincerely for the sake of Allah , these acts of restraint themselves become acts of worship. This sacred discipline cultivates self-awareness, sincerity, and moral clarity.

The Purpose of Fasting: Beyond Hunger

Allah clearly states the purpose of fasting in the Noble Qur’an:

“O you who believe, fasting has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, so that you may attain taqwā (God-consciousness).”3

Allah also informs us:

“Ramaḍân is the month in which the Quran was revealed as a guide for humanity with clear proofs of guidance and the decisive authority. So whoever is present this month, let them fast. But whoever is ill or on a journey, then ˹let them fast˺ an equal number of days ˹after Ramaḍân˺. Allah intends ease for you, not hardship, so that you may complete the prescribed period and proclaim the greatness of Allah for guiding you, and perhaps you will be grateful.” [Surah Al-Baqarah; 2:185]

“However, hunger itself is not the aim of fasting in Ramadan; rather, it is the means through which taqwā is cultivated.”

The Prophet also counted fasting in Ramadan as one of the five pillars of Islam in the famous Hadith of Jibreel .4

Linguistically, ṣawm means to hold back, refrain, or abstain.5 In Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh), fasting refers to abstaining from food, drink, and marital relations from dawn until sunset, accompanied by a sincere intention.6

However, hunger itself is not the aim of fasting in Ramadan; rather, it is the means through which taqwā is cultivated. By weakening physical desires, fasting strengthens spiritual resolve, allowing a believer to rise above habitual impulses and orient the heart toward Allah . Ramadan thus becomes a unique opportunity to focus on doing good, abstaining from evil, and refining one’s character. 

Among the many wisdoms and benefits of fasting are:

1. Demonstrating sincere submission to the will of Allah , placing His Pleasure above personal desire;

2. Elevating the soul toward greater levels of devotion, asceticism, and spiritual awareness;

3. Cultivating self-restraint and perseverance—essential traits for moral and spiritual development;

4. Awakening empathy for the poor and those who experience hunger regularly;

5. Providing physical benefits, such as eliminating weaker cells in the body, giving rest to the digestive system and promoting weight loss.7

Imam al-Ghazālī also reminds us that fasting is not merely physical abstention. He states that “fasting is not simply leaving food and drink, but abstaining from all sins: the silence of the tongue, the restraint of the limbs, and the calming of the heart.”8

The Inner Secrets of Fasting

Najm al-Dīn Ibn Qudāmah al-Maqdisī explains that a person fasting is placed in one of three categories9:

1. The fast of the common people, which entails abstaining from food, drink, and marital relations;
2. The fast of the righteous, which includes refraining from sins of the eyes, tongue, ears, hands, and limbs;
3. The fast of the elite, in which the heart itself abstains from lowly thoughts and anything that distracts from Allah .

At this highest level, fasting becomes a complete orientation toward Allah , where even the inner life is disciplined. The etiquette of righteous fasting, therefore include lowering the gaze, guarding the tongue from harmful or useless speech, and protecting all limbs from disobedience.

The Prophet Muhammad warned against fasting that lacks moral discipline:

“Whoever does not give up false speech and acting upon it, Allah has no need of him leaving his food and drink.”10

Fasting, then, is not merely physical deprivation—it is ethical training. Abstaining from food is visible, but abstaining from harming others (by speech and action) is what gives fasting its true spiritual substance.

Restraint as an Inner Struggle

Much of Ramadan’s transformative work happens invisibly. It is found in choosing not to argue, not to retaliate, and not to indulge the ego. This inner struggle is among the most enduring forms of spiritual effort.

The Prophet described fasting as a shield:

“Fasting is a shield. When one of you is fasting, let him not engage in obscene speech or ignorant behaviour. If someone insults him or fights him, let him say: ‘I am fasting.’”11

This restraint is not passive; it is active discipline. Each withheld reaction becomes an act of worship. In this way, fasting reflects one’s ʿaqīdah—belief expressed through ethical self-regulation rather than abstract ideals.

True worship is therefore not confined to prayer, fasting, or pilgrimage alone. It is the inward submission of the heart, expressed through restraint of the tongue, the eyes, and the emotions. The fasting person becomes like one in spiritual seclusion, engaged in a private relationship with their Lord even while moving through society.

The Power of Silence

Ramadan heightens awareness of speech—what is said, how it is said, and why it is said. 

Allah reminds us:

“Not a word does one utter except that it is recorded.” [Surah Qaf: 50;18]

Silence thus gains moral weight. Choosing not to gossip, complain, or speak carelessly is not emptiness; it is attentiveness. The Prophet said:

“Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day, let him speak good or remain silent.”12

Imam al-Ghazālī regarded disciplined silence as a prerequisite for spiritual clarity, warning that excessive speech hardens the heart.13 Ramadan revives this insight, inviting believers to listen more —to others and to themselves. Just as the body abstains from food, the tongue abstains from harm. When controlled, the tongue becomes a gateway to spiritual refinement.

Digital Restraint 

“Fasting of the heart includes abstaining from distractions, vain curiosity, and anything that diverts one from Allah [swt].” [PC: Jon Tyson (unsplash)]

In the modern age, excess often appears in new forms: constant connectivity, information overload, and performative visibility. The Qur’an cautions:

“Do not pursue that of which you have no knowledge. Indeed, the hearing, the sight, and the heart—about all of those one will be questioned.” [Surah Al-‘Isra: 17;36]

Fasting of the heart includes abstaining from distractions, vain curiosity, and anything that diverts one from Allah . Reducing social media use, avoiding doom-scrolling, and guarding what we see and hear are contemporary expressions of fasting’s ethical goals.

Tips for Living Ramadan in Busy Lives

1. Those Working in the Holy Month

For those navigating deadlines and workplace pressures, Ramadan is lived through ethical excellence as much as ritual worship. Beginning the day with sincere intention can transform ordinary work into worship. Avoiding dishonesty, impatience, and gossip fulfils the deeper aims of fasting. Even brief moments of dhikr or quiet dua (supplication) carry enduring spiritual weight.

2. For Mothers

Much of a mother’s Ramadan unfolds in unseen labour—preparing food while fasting, caring for others, and managing disrupted routines. Islamic tradition affirms that khidmah (service to others) performed with patience and sincere intention can be a beloved act of worship. Quiet endurance, gentle speech, and consistent care are spiritually significant.

3. Students

For students balancing fasting with academic pressure, studying with a noble intention, avoiding dishonesty, and exercising patience in fatigue are all acts of worship. Ramadan does not interrupt learning; it refines intention and discipline within it.

Small Deeds, Lasting Impact

The Prophet said:

“Do not belittle any good deed, even meeting your brother with a cheerful face.”14

Simple acts of worship available in all circumstances include:

• Renewing one’s intentions before routine actions;
• Quiet remembrance of Allah ;
• Restraining anger or harmful speech;
• Offering a sincere smile;
• Silent supplication;
• Gratitude in difficulty;
• Acting honestly when unseen;
• Reciting Qur’an and daily adhkār. 

Consistency often outweighs scale. As the Prophet taught:

“The most beloved deeds to Allah are those that are conistent, even if small.”15

What Remains After Ramadan?

When the month ends, routines resume, and life’s pressures return. Yet subtle transformations may endure: a pause before reacting, a preference for silence over harm, and a deeper awareness of one’s intentions.

Allah describes His true servants as:

“Those who walk upon the earth humbly, and when the foolish address them, they respond with peace.” [Surah Al-Furqan: 25;63]

Ramadan trains believers in this gentleness—not through grand gestures, but through quiet discipline. It teaches that absence is not always loss; sometimes, it is mercy.

In choosing not to consume, not to speak, and not to rush, Ramadan reveals its deepest lesson: the soul is often nourished most in moments of stillness, where conscious restraint and deliberate abstention become pathways to closeness with Allah .

***

Bibliography

1. al-Ghazali, Imam, ‘Ihya Ulum ad-Din’ (translated by Fazl-ul-Karim, www.ghazali.com)
2. al-Haj, Dr Hatem, ‘Umdat al-Fiqh Explained: Commentary of Ibn Qudamah’s The Reliable Manual of Fiqh,’ (IIPH, 2019)

***

Related:

– Recognizing Allah’s Mercy For What It Is: Reclaiming Agency Through Ramadan

– How to Make this Ramadan Epic | Shaykh Muhammad Alshareef

1    Abu Huraira reported that the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him) said: “Every action a son of Adam does shall be multiplied—a good action by ten times its value, up to 700 times. Allah says: With the exception of fasting, which belongs to Me, and I reward it accordingly. For, one abandons his desire and food for My sake” [Sahih al-Bukhari 1904]. This Hadith highlights the special status of fasting in Ramadan and its immense rewards, emphasising that the reward for fasting is beyond measure and known only to Allah.2    Ibn Taymiyyah, al-ʿUbūdiyyah, p. 133    Qur’an 2:1834    Sahih Muslim, Hadith No. 8, Riyad as-Saliheen (introduction, Hadith no. 60)5     www.almaany.com6    Dr al-Haj, Umdat al-Fiqh Explained (the book of fasting, IIPH, 2019) 7    Dr al-Haj, Umdat al-Fiqh Explained (IIPH, 2019), p. 3398    Imam al-Ghazali, ‘Ihya Ulum ad-Din,’ (secrets of fasting, www.ghazali.com) 9     ‘Fasting and I’tikaf: Evidences, Rules and Inner Secrets from Muntaqa, Muqni’ and Mukhtasar Minhaj al-Qasidin’ (Dar al-Arkam, 2023), p 166. 10    Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, Book 78, Hadith 87.11    Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, Book 13, Hadith 21212    Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, Book 78, Hadith 163.13    Imam al-Ghazali, ‘Ihya Ulum ad-Din,’ (Intention, Tongue, and Patience, www.ghazali.com) 14    Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, Introduction, Hadith 12115    Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, Book 81, Hadith 53

The post Ramadan In The Quiet Moments: The Spiritual Power Of What We Don’t Do appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

In 2017, the Pew Research Center performed a survey on Muslim teens—not teens off the street, but teens who attend the masjid—and the results, I sense, don’t seem to have hit us hard enough. Their survey revealed something devastating: 1 in 4 Muslim teens who attend the masjid—not random kids off the street, but our children who show up for Jumu’ah and masjid programs—will eventually leave Islam entirely as adults. Not just pray less. Not just drift away. They will stop identifying as Muslim in any sense. That’s not a statistic. That’s your daughter’s friend. Your son’s teammate. Maybe, your own child.

I am often inspired by the dawah efforts that I see in so many communities across the world, and these efforts are paying admirable dividends as people continue to enter Islam globally, alhamdulillah. But this fact hides an ugly truth, that while we are so engaged in sharing Islam with others, our own children are bleeding and shedding silent tears as they struggle to develop their identity and personal relationship with Islam. And the tragedy? Many of us don’t even know it’s happening. They smile at family gatherings. They fast during Ramadan. They show up to the masjid when you make them.

But in their rooms, late at night, they’re Googling: “Can I still be a good person if I leave Islam?” They’re crying because they feel like frauds—not Muslim enough for the masjid, not “normal” enough for school. They’re exhausted from performing different versions of themselves in every space they occupy. And by the time we notice the crisis, they’ve already mentally checked out.

It seems that we are so focused on nearly everything else, assuming that our kids will just “figure it out” like we did, that we have neglected them in their moments of greatest need.

As we enter the noble month of Ramadan, our world, today in 2026, is suffering immense changes. There are intense pressures on so many fronts, and I know how overwhelming this can seem.

But I would like to propose that we make this Ramadan different. I would like to ask you to turn your attention away from the outside world and all of its distractions, and focus on your children in an attempt to connect with their world and to see their struggles through their eyes.

Even as a first generation American, born and raised here, I can see how different the world is today for our children, and just how destructive and exhausting it can be for them. I call upon you to remember Allah’s words:

يَـٰٓأَيُّهَا ٱلَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوا۟ قُوٓا۟ أَنفُسَكُمْ وَأَهْلِيكُمْ نَارًۭا وَقُودُهَا ٱلنَّاسُ وَٱلْحِجَارَةُ عَلَيْهَا مَلَـٰٓئِكَةٌ غِلَاظٌۭ شِدَادٌۭ لَّا يَعْصُونَ ٱللَّهَ مَآ أَمَرَهُمْ وَيَفْعَلُونَ مَا يُؤْمَرُونَ

O believers! Protect yourselves and your families from a Fire whose fuel is humans and stones, overseen by powerful and severe angels, who never disobey whatever Allah orders—always doing as they are commanded. [Al-Tahrim: 6]

To make this task a little easier, I would like to share with you a series that was created for our tweens and teens, that focuses on their problems and their struggles, offering a solution every night from the Quran. This series, “30 Nights with the Quran: Stories for the Seeking Soul,” offers a chance to interact with the Quran from their perspective, showing how it addresses their unique problems. A great deal of time and thought went into making this series as relevant as possible for our young men and women, and the hope that it will be a source of comfort, direction and enlightenment for them, as well as you.

So, I’m asking you to make this Ramadan different. Not by adding more programs, more lectures, more pressure. But by watching this series with your teen. About ten minutes a night. That’s it. Don’t watch it alone and then lecture them about it. Watch it together. Let them hear you processing the same struggles they face. Let them see that you don’t have all the answers either. Because here’s the truth: Your teen doesn’t need another lecture. They need a witness. Someone who sees their pain and doesn’t minimize it.

A Message to the Teen Reading This (Probably Because Your Parents Made You)

I know. You didn’t choose to be here. Someone—probably your mom or dad—sent you this link with a “you should read this ” text. And I get it. You’re tired of being told what to do, how to be Muslim, why you should care.

So, I’m not going to do that.

Instead, I’m going to tell you something that nobody’s probably said to you lately: I see you. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re navigating a world that constantly demands you choose between being Muslim and being yourself—as if those two things can’t coexist. I’m sorry that you never feel authentic anywhere.

I’m sorry that the adults in your life keep saying “just be strong” without teaching you how or understanding what you’re facing.

I’m sorry that Islam sometimes feels like a cage instead of a refuge at this point in your life.

And I’m sorry that when you try to talk about this, people assume you’re “losing your faith” instead of realizing you’re fighting to keep it.

Let me begin by telling you, that though I have never met you, I do sincerely love you and care about you. Although it has been many years since I was where you are, I do feel for you as someone who grew up in this country and had to figure things out mostly alone. My parents loved me a great deal, as I have no doubt that yours do too, but they couldn’t comprehend the pressures I was exposed to or the choices I had to face, since they grew up in a totally different society. In the years since I went through the pressures of teenage life as a Muslim in the west, things have only gotten harder with smartphones, social media and the steady rise in anti-Islamic sentiment. I’m sorry that you have to go through this.

At the risk of exposing myself as the total nerd that I am, allow me to share the timeless words of J.R.R. Tolkien from his novel, The Fellowship of the Ring, when Frodo, crushed by the weight of carrying the One Ring, confesses his frustration to Gandalf. “I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo. “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

These words actually echo the teachings of our own beloved Prophet ﷺ when he too spoke of days where it would be so hard to hold onto our faith:

“No, you must call to good and prevent evil until you see greed being obeyed, desires being followed, worldly life being preferred, and everyone being impressed by their own opinion … Truly, ahead of you are days of patience where patience will be like holding a hot coal. The person who does good deeds in that time will have the reward of fifty men who do likewise.” (Sunan al-Tirmidhī)

With that in mind, I would like to invite you to a Ramadan series that was put together just for you. It’s called, “30 Nights with the Quran: Stories for the Seeking Soul,” where each night in Ramadan we are going to take a small peek into how the Quran can help you get through this very challenging time in your life. I don’t want you to just survive, but to thrive, and I hope that this series will hit home with you. It is also a way to reach out to you and let you know that you matter; that you matter very much, and that there are people out there who want to be there to support you. No judgment, no lectures, no pressure.

So, starting on the first night of Ramadan, a new video and written reflection, exclusive to Muslim Matters, will drop every night of Ramadan. Each one tackles a real struggle you’re likely facing—identity, comparison, parent conflicts, being the only Muslim in the room—and shows how the Quran addresses it.

• Watch alone or with friends
• Drop comments/questions—I’ll respond to every one bi ithnillah
• Join the email community for a deeper dive, reflections and resources: [https://30nightswithquran.beehiiv.com/]

This isn’t another lecture series. It’s a 30-day challenge: What if the Quran actually has something to say about your real life?

Only one way to find out.

See you Night 1 insha Allah,

P.S. – You’re not alone

Dr. Ali

The post 30 Nights with the Qur’an: A Ramadan Series for Muslim Teens appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Despite Israeli crackdown, Palestinian stand-ups use comedy as a tool of resistance and decolonial practice.

Imagine a masjid having the funds to uplift a family out of poverty, but bullying them instead. This is exactly what happened at one suburban masjid.

It was in an area full of families who bought homes and put their kids in school in a place where -by definition- they would not come in contact with poor people. Over time, a couple of families (think single mom, multiple kids, barely subsisting below the poverty line) would start attending regularly.

This is the type of situation where strong community leadership, and a strong grounding in the purpose of zakat, would lead people to realize they had more than enough zakat collection to literally take an entire family in their own community out of poverty. They could have bought them a place to live, put their kids through school, created a positive generational impact in the lineage of that family – and still had zakat funds leftover to fund their gym expansion.

Instead, they mistreated them and made them jump through hoops to get funds (which, even then, were not nearly enough). The very funds that are the right of the poor and belong to them.

Zakat is one of the five pillars of our deen, and stories like this show how far we’ve strayed from its purpose.

Historically, there have always been differences of opinion on how funds can be spent (I’m old enough to remember this 2007 article arguing for zakat to be given to dawah organizations creating controversy online).

More recently, the Fiqh Council of North America (FCNA) published a fatwa on the permissibility of donating zakat funds to political campaigns. It was published alongside a dissenting opinion of that fatwa.

I want to be clear that I have no intent (or qualification) to critique the ruling from a jurisprudential perspective. If you are interested in that, Imam Suhaib Webb has put together a short video series (Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3) that provides an explanation from a fiqh perspective as to why donating to political campaigns is not a legitimate use of zakat funds.

I do respect and recognize the need for this type of fatwa in the broader context of building a corpus of Islamic rulings in different times and places. No one ruling or piece of research is the finality of that topic. A ruling like this functions as something that other scholars can refer back to for critique or refinement.

I want to look at this ruling beyond the legalistic permissibility and more in context of a lack of leadership in how our community thinks about the institution of zakat.

The core of this discussion centers on the ayah in Surah At-Taubah that lays out the categories of zakat: “Alms are meant only for the poor, the needy, those who administer them, those whose hearts need winning over, to free slaves and help those in debt, for God’s cause, and for travellers in need. This is ordained by God; God is all-knowing and wise.” [Surah At-Taubah: 9;60]

If you are unfamiliar with this ayah, I would recommend reading a quick explanation of it to get a basic grounding.

The core purpose of zakat is not disputed – it is a right of the poor upon the wealthy. Intuitively, we all understand this as the basic premise. And yet, the discussion our community has about zakat very rarely talks about the alleviation of poverty or uplifting the poor.

When I think back to discussions I have been privy to within a board or masjid setting, I would find community leaders talking about donating zakat funds in bulk to an Islamic organization, sending it overseas, or using it for masjid expenses and construction.

They would always hesitate to give to people locally, fearful that they might be taken advantage of. So they created city-wide databases to track how much a person had received so that they did not get too much. I have seen cases where people are exploited – forced to work manual labor jobs around the masjid for less than minimum wage, or cleaning the houses of the wealthy board members, just to get a small pittance of zakat support.

Then we get fatwas telling us we should be expanding who gets zakat – masjid construction projects, Islamic schools, Sunday schools, dawah organizations, and now, apparently, political lobbyists or candidates.

We find ways to strategize how to use zakat for almost everything except actually helping the poor.

The entirety of the zakat discussion that we have seems to talk about everything except the actual purpose of helping those in need. It is a discussion shaped by the perspectives of the wealthy – people who are insulated from the day-to-day realities of food insecurity, lack of housing, systemic poverty, and economic inequality.

This results from the mentality and culture pervasive in our American society. In a land where we are taught we can work hard to achieve anything, we are also implicitly taught that those who are less fortunate are simply not working hard enough, or deserve the situation they are in.

Instead of a love and reverence for the poor, we deride them. We see them as an inconvenience. Instead of empathizing with them, we want to write a check to a relief organization, maybe host a food drive with some good PR, and be done with it so we can go back to strategizing on more important issues like using zakat funds to build a new wing of Sunday school classrooms.

I recently came across an article painting the contrast between two different masjids in my city. The entire article is worth a read as it examines a number of important issues beyond the scope of this post. One quote particularly relevant to our context stood out:

“He argues that nurturing social services programs for the economically disadvantaged, like Masjid Al-Islam does in its South Dallas neighborhood, should be at the “heart” of Muslim community-building in Dallas, rather than consolidating wealth. He pointed out that the same racist forces that decimated Black communities in the United States were now uniting to target EPIC City. Without addressing the most oppressed among them, Muslims cannot consolidate their power. “Black American Muslims and the immigrant Muslims have not fully connected and united. We are not operating as an ummah at our full potential,” added Imam Abdul-Jami.”

This brings us back to the fatwa on using zakat funds for political causes. What purpose does it serve? Who is shaping that purpose? And why?

Had this been a fatwa about using general funds to fund a PAC, or influence politicians, there would be no objection. Why specifically zakat funds?

“The entirety of the zakat discussion that we have seems to talk about everything except the actual purpose of helping those in need.” [PC: Masjid Pogung Dalangang (unsplash)]

Who decides which political candidates can receive these funds?

How much are we going to assess a politician’s overall platform before giving them zakat? Are people supposed to take this fatwa and just pick political campaigns to give some of their zakat funds to?

What if a politician takes money from a Muslim group and then turns around and attacks them anyway?

How much do we need to donate before we can expect a tangible benefit to the community? For reference, the losing candidate in the 2024 Presidential election burned through $1.5 billion of campaign funds.

What if the funds end up in the hands of a politician who advocates for policies that further increase systemic poverty? Politicians who are in favor of eliminating social safety nets like food stamps?

How ironic would it be to dedicate a portion of our zakat money to a politician who ends up passing policies that systematically increase the number of people who need zakat to survive?

Are we only giving to candidates who are perhaps considering becoming Muslim? Or are we hiring people for a specific job?

Are political causes here meant to be quid pro quo? Are we guaranteeing that a politician will vote a certain way on a certain issue if they receive a certain amount of funding? Which votes are important enough to fund with zakat? What impact do they have on our community?

In short, it’s not clear what this fatwa is trying to accomplish, or how it should be implemented. And I understand that some will say the job of a jurist is to only establish the legal boundary. My response to that would be that a jurist issuing such a ruling without taking on the ground reality into account is doing a disservice and undermining the public’s trust in the institution of Islamic scholarship itself.

There is no blueprint showing a successful implementation of political advocacy by Muslims that justifies risking zakat funds. There are countless examples to the contrary – numerous White House Iftars where we fought for a ‘seat at the table’, Muslims ascending to higher ranks within the Biden administration, or Muslim physicians in the Dallas area privately hosting Greg Abbott in their homes to fundraise for him.

What, exactly, is the outcome of investing money into this type of political game? I am not saying it cannot be done, or even that we should not take part. Just do it with regular fundraising channels instead of zakat funds.

Rather, the more likely outcome is that it will pave the way to following the footsteps of politically aligned mega-churches that lose congregants due to their willful neglect of core teachings, such as caring for the poor. This, for me, is the most confusing part of the fatwa, as it quite literally appears to divert funds away from those who need it to survive, and instead line the pockets of corrupt actors who have no interest in Islam.

The Fiqh Council’s fatwa offers this justification:

“If we apply the rules with strict adherence to classical conditions (which, it should be noted, are largely ijtihādī in nature as well), this would weaken the practical functioning or aims of the Sharīʿah for this category, and essentially make this category null and void.”

In other words, if we do not find a way to identify a modern group of “those whose hearts are to be reconciled” (al-mu’allafah qulūbuhum), then we won’t be able to fulfill the injunction to give to people in this category.

The irony of this null and void framing is particularly striking given that the very same Fiqh Council had no problems whatsoever pressuring masjids all across America to adopt calculations for determining Ramadan and Eid, rendering the sunnah of physically sighting the moon and the duas related to it null and void.

When a fatwa like this is given with no context or a plan forward, it makes people lose faith in the leadership of the community. This discussion is compounded by recent revelations that an Islamic organization that raised $7 million for Gaza, diverted over $2 million to an individual for a completely unrelated cause unbeknownst to the donors.

Why is there not a focus to encourage people to utilize this category for other causes, such as food pantries, clinics, and other services in underserved areas?

There seems to be an underlying assumption that we’ve somehow ‘covered’ the primary purpose of zakat, and now we can move to other uses for it. Do any masjids or organizations collecting zakat have data showing how many families they have uplifted out of poverty? How many families in our masjid that were in need of zakat, got help, and now are in a position of being able to give zakat themselves?

Is anyone even paying attention to this – or do we simply not care?

It feels like we are numb to it, or we live lives where we can afford to be insulated from it. Then, when a politician attacks our masjids and organizations, we feel a visceral fear of what might happen to our community and want to do what we can to combat it.

Which is a perfectly fine sentiment. But let’s push ourselves to think more abundantly. Let’s find ways to use zakat more effectively for its primary purpose, and also raise other funds for other efforts.

For individuals in the position of giving zakat, it is imperative to exercise your own agency and take control of where your money is going. Be intentional about exactly what kinds of causes you want to support, and how best to support them. It may mean privately giving to families in need, or stepping back and giving to local organizations where you have more transparency regarding the work being done.

Zakat is not a light duty; it is one of the five major pillars on which our faith is built. Give it its proper and sacred due.

 

Related Reading (in addition to what is linked to in the article above)

• On Giving Zakat for Political Campaigns – Joe Bradford
• Zakat Does Not Belong Here – Ahmed Shaikh
• Zakat Poverty and the Kitchen Sink – Ahmed Shaikh
• Zakāt Is Not a PAC — Revisiting al-Mu’allafah Qulūbuhum in Modern Fiqh – Amr Abu Ayyub
• The Use and Misuse of Zakah funds by Religious Institutions in North America – Dr. Yousef Wahb

 

[This article was first published here, where you can subscribe to receive more of the author’s content.] 

The post Keep Zakat Sacred: A Right Of The Poor, Not A Political Tool appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.