Hassan Aweys, the second-in-command of the Islamic Courts, was a longstanding target of the United States. (Picture: African Arguments)

2026 brings a seminal anniversary to the history of Somalia and East Africa, but also an important and overlooked one in modern American history. It marks twenty years since the United States cooperated with Ethiopia in an invasion of Somalia, overthrowing a short-lived, unrecognized, but effective administration of Islamic courts that had taken over Mogadishu by summer 2006. Not only did this Islamic Courts Union, as it was known, defeat a coalition of longstanding militia commanders, many of whom were on the payroll of American intelligence, but it also briefly established the closest thing to a functional and independent government that Somalia had had in fifteen years.

State Failure and Societal Resistance

At the turn of the millennium, it was fashionable to describe Somalia as the world’s first “failed state”, one with no functioning government that could reasonably claim to control, let alone govern, more than a fraction of its territory. The downfall of Siad Barre’s longstanding dictatorship in 1991 had reopened rifts that had in large part been exacerbated by the same dictatorship, and militarized by a widespread influx of weaponry during the 1980s. With the partial exception of a largely disparate Somaliland in the north, most of Somalia fragmented as notables from merchants to army officers to chieftains to politicians armed militias from their clans, giving the conflict a clan dimension.

Internationally, Somalia was best-known for the United Nations campaign sent purportedly to bring relief, and the American involvement that soon dominated this campaign. The famine was in fact largely over by the time that the Americans arrived, at the end of 1992, and critics pointed out that the mission seemed less a humanitarian endeavour and more an attempt to impose the new unipolar world order under a thin humanitarian cover. Both the United Nations and the United States played favourites among Somali factions in a way that prevented resolution of the conflict, while supposed peacekeepers frequently proved abusive and trigger-happy. That summer, after a militia commander Abdi Qeybdid ambushed foreign troops, the Americans effectively declared war on his Hawiye clan confederation that dominated the capital Mogadishu.

In total the American mission would kill three thousand Somalis over the course of the year, a third of these in an infamous last battle in October 1993, where Hawiye militants famously shot down a helicopter and killed eighteen soldiers. In a media atmosphere where Somali infringements were frequently amplified and vilified and foreign abuses received scant attention, the resultant and entirely misleading impression, which survives to this day in the United States, was that Somalia’s people had ungratefully bitten the hand that had tried to feed them. In more sophisticated circles, the continuing competition between Somali militias gave the country the moniker of “failed state”.

Even as intermittent conflict and cooperation between militias continued, Somali society independently rebuilt. Private merchants often provided services, setting up their own more disciplined militias for security. Clan resolution, where tribal leaders negotiated and mediated, were a frequent recourse, but these were limited since they rarely went beyond the clan. Islam was a more powerful glue, and at the local level various preachers, scholars, and Islamic activists set up courts at a local level to provide order and justice: one major example was the Ifka Halane court in Mogadishu. Somali businessmen, seeking a secure environment for their business and often hailing from a similar background, frequently collaborated with them: Ahmed Jimale, at one point Somalia’s richest merchant, was close to the Islamists. Militias had a more ambiguous attitude; some collaborated with Islamic networks but others saw them as rivals.

Ethiopian Interference

The Islamic courts’ influence came alongside a related and partly overlapping phenomenon, the war in the Somali-majority region of the Ogaden, adjacent to Somalia and ruled by Somalia’s “Auld Enemy” Ethiopia. During this period Ethiopia was rather a darling for the international community; its ruling government had overthrown their own dictatorial predecessors just months after the Somalis ousted Siad in 1991, but by contrast established a functional regime with nominal autonomy for Ethiopia’s different regions. Yet this autonomy was practically nonexistent in the much-abused Ogaden, where support for union with Somalia had been high for decades and over which the two neighbours had, similarly to India and Pakistan over Kashmir, repeatedly gone to war. In the mid-1990s Ethiopia launched a little-noticed crackdown in the Ogaden, and many of the Somalis who went to fight a jihad there were linked to Islamic networks, either Sufis or more famously the Salafi Itihaad network. Their profile soared when in 1996 Ethiopia launched the first of many raids into Somalia: the Islamists were often at the forefront of resistance.

Some Islamic networks had links with foreign fighters; for example, a young Qaeda network had established a small front in Somalia, applauded the 1993 ouster of the Americans, and returned American focus to the East African region by bloodily bombing American embassies in Kenya and Tanzania during the summer of 1998. This played further into Ethiopia’s securitized role toward Somalia: like Ethiopia, Washington viewed Itihaad-linked Somali Islamists such as Hassans Aweys and “the Turk” Hersi, former army officers who had become Salafi preachers and militant organizers, as enemies.

Ethiopia’s interest was not only in fighting Islamists or Ogaden militants, but also in preventing any single faction from achieving power that might challenge it: in this regard, it played off different commanders and clans, and offered a similarly shallow “federalist” solution, based on a quota of clans, to rule Somalia. Though Egypt and Eritrea contested Ethiopian influence, none matched its intrusiveness or skill at the game and the shadowy but crafty Ethiopian commander Tafasse Mamo repeatedly made the Somali borderlands his stomping ground for a decade.

In the early 2000s Somali delegates in Djibouti elected a government, albeit a weak one that existed more in name than reality. But this marked a challenge for Ethiopia, whose army raided and supported number of Somali commanders to challenge it under the pretext of demanding “federalism”: the most prominent such commander was Abdullahi Yusuf, who ruled the northeast region of Puntland and had longstanding links with the Ethiopians.

After the September 2001 Qaeda attacks on the United States, Ethiopia and its Somali clientele were able to present the government’s links with Islamic networks as a security threat: Somalia was often compared to the recently invaded Afghanistan as a new “haven for terrorists”. In turn, Washington blackballed both political leaders like Aweys and civilians such as Jimale, whose designation was only removed in 2016. Even Abshir Musa, a former inspector-general who had worked with the United Nations mission in 1993 and long lived in the United States, was targeted as a potential extremist because he had been a rival of Yusuf and had a reputation for Islamic rectitude.

American intelligence and military networks in the region threw their support behind Yusuf, who in a token election was selected as Somalia’s new ruler over a federalist regime. Like the preceding government, however, this only controlled patches of Somalia, mostly through commanders who were given ministerial titles. Even parliament speaker Sharif Aden, a merchant with good relations to Islamic networks, dismissed the new order as an Ethiopian method of “divide-and-conquer”.

Meanwhile, in 2003 American security, led by regional spymaster John Bennett and future Falluja commander John Sattler, had begun to pay off various militias to hunt “radical Islamists” on its behalf. These included militiamen affiliated with the government, such as prime minister Ali Gedi’s more powerful cousin Mohamed Dheere and the minister-commander Botan Alin. Even former opponents were paid off by the United States as preferable to “radical Islamists”: Qeybdid, whom the Americans had known as “Mad Abdi” in 1993, was now put on the payroll of American intelligence. Other American clientele included former rivals like Musa Yalahow and Mohamed Qanyare, who had fought on opposite sides of the Ethiopian campaign at Mogadishu in the 1990s. Despite his own links with Sufi networks, Yalahow turned on the Islamic courts; Qanyare, who had hated the Ethiopians, seems to have fondly imagined the United States, whom he admiringly described as “war masters”, as an alternative.

Over the mid-2000s American-funded militias raided Mogadishu in search of suspected “extremists”; in turn, Islamists mobilized. Perhaps the most famous of these was Aden Ayro, a bold but ruthless commander of Itihaad background linked to Aweys’ Ifka Halane court, whose notoriety soared after he excavated an old Italian cemetery in Mogadishu and replaced it with a mosque. A more mainstream figure was the official leader of the courts’ coalition, Sharif Ahmed. This Sufi preacher enjoyed considerable respect but was viewed by the United States as little more than a figurehead for such targets as Aweys and Ayro.

Abdi Qeybdid went from being a target of the United States, whom they attacked as “Mad Abdi” in the 1993 Battle of Mogadishu, to their collaborator in 2006. He has held several senior positions in Somalia since the 1990s. (Picture: HM News Updates, Youtube)

Slam Dunk for the Courts

In February 2006, three years after the militia strategy began, it was formalized as the “Alliance for the Restoration of Peace and Counterterrorism”. One member of this clunkily named coalition was Bashir Shirare, a militia-running merchant who had fallen out with one of Mogadishu’s wealthiest merchants, Abukar Adane. It was Adane, who funded what was probably the capital’s single largest militia but was linked to the Islamists rather than American intelligence, who funded the Islamic Courts’ spectacular backlash. In a dizzying series of counterstrikes that lasted into the early summer, the Islamic Courts routed one militia opponent after another: Shirare, Alin, Yalahow, Qeybdid, and Qanyare were forced to flight, and for the first time in fifteen years the capital came under the control of a single government. If we are to define governments by who controls the national capital, it was the Islamic Courts under Sharif Ahmed that were Somalia’s actual, though unrecognized, government by the summer of 2006.

What accounted for the Islamists’ staggering success? The binding effect of Islam, to which all Somalis paid homage but by whose restraining influences few factions abided, was a major factor:  despite the alarm over their supposed radicalism, the Islamic courts were simply more disciplined and restrained in their dealings with wider society: by all accounts Mogadishu was far safer under their rule than it had been for a generation before or since. This gave them the appreciation of Somalia’s large business class for the  security they provided: it was no coincidence that Adane, their first finance minister, was a major merchant. There were also links to both local Somali society, particularly in the Mogadishu environs, and the diaspora: the Islamists’ first foreign minister, Ibrahim Addow, was a well-respected scholar who had lived in the United States.

Similarly the courts used their links across political factions: for instance Islamist leader Khalif Adale, an in-law of the merchant Jimale, was also a clansman of Qanyare, who eventually surrendered his arsenal to him to keep resources within their clan. The Islamists were adept at bringing various segments of Somali society and political leadership to their side: their first defence minister was notable militia commander Yusuf Indhaadde, who had lately embraced religiosity. Other commanders, such as Yusuf Makaran in central Somalia and Hassan “the Turk”’s colourfully named Raskamboni militia in the deep south, would spread Islamist influence beyond the Mogadishu region over the next few months, though this brought them into collision with the Ethiopian military. In autumn 2006 Tafasse Mamo, the shadowy commander who had so skilfully manipulated Somali politics for a decade, was killed in a clash.

A self-fulfilling escalation

While the Islamist takeover was popular inside Somalia, it attracted alarm abroad. Abdullahi Yusuf’s coalition retained international recognition and used it. Their argument, advanced as well as an Ethiopian regime alarmed at a stable government in Mogadishu, made was that the Islamic Courts Union were similar to the Afghan Taliban emirate that the United States had overthrown and a magnet for “radical Islamists”; therefore, they must be overthrown.

This was the argument accepted by the United States’ diplomatic head for the region Jendayi Frazer, who overruled a contrary proposal by Sudanese diplomat Attaullah Bashir for a multilateral peacekeeping force and a compromise government; such forces had not worked in the past, but more to the point Ethiopia and the United States wanted to control this new, arbitrarily constructed front in the “war on terror”. Frazer and the United States’ regional commander, John Abizaid, worked secretly with Ethiopian premier Meles Zenawi and military commander Samora Yunis to plan the attack: the ongoing wars in Afghanistan and Iraq meant that it would have to be conducted primarily through Ethiopian soldiers, but with a small contingent of American commandos at key junctions.

The claim, advanced in the United States by neoconservative lobbyists including Israeli spies with longstanding links to Addis Ababa, was that if the United States did not preemptively defang the Islamists, radicalism and associated violence would somehow spread. It need also be remembered, as Somali archivist Abdimalik Warsame has pointed out, that a considerable proportion of the American military and foreign policy elite continued to resent Somalia: the 1993 Battle of Mogadishu had been their first defeat after the Cold War, and many were inclined toward revenge. It was commonplace at the time to point out Usama bin-Ladin’s approval for the 1993 battle, as if this indicated an inherent extremism in Somali society.

As with claims about Taliban support for international terrorism, claims of violent “radicalism” were greatly exaggerated. But during the height of the “war on terror”, exaggeration carried weight. Links with foreign “mujahideen” were subject to hysteria, and the Courts Union had plenty of links in the persons of Aweys, Ayro, Adale, “the Turk”, Indhaadde’s influential deputy Mukhtar Robow, and Mogadishu sheriff Abdullahi Nahar. While internationalist militants were by no means homogenous, by the end of summer 2006 several of them, under the leadership of a certain Abdullahi Arale, secretly formed a clique called Shabaab, linked to Qaeda’s local officials Fazul Haroun, Saleh Nabhan, and Tariq Abdullah. This clique was particularly influential in helping Hassan “the Turk” capture the deep south from Yusuf’s defence minister Barre Hirale and finance minister Abdullahi Farataag.

Yet Shabaab’s influence on Courts overarching policy was negligible. Emir Sharif Ahmed and foreign minister Ibrahim Addow continued to negotiate with the opposition, particularly Sharif Aden, and even more hardline colleagues like Aweys did not challenge them. It was only well after the American-Ethiopian invasion of Somalia, which began at the end of 2006, that Shabaab would grow in influence, eventually becoming the premier Somali militant organization. As with other fronts in the “war on terror”, violence spread through the region in large part as a result of the invasion. Far from a quick decapitation of “radicals”, the American war in Somalia, conducted mainly through airstrikes at this point, saw violence spread through East Africa, and twenty years later is approaching the United States’ longest war in history with no resolution in sight.

The post Slam Dunk on the Mogadishu Court: The Islamic Courts Union of Somalia appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Painting by Safia Latif

Our Prophet ﷺ never gave up on fasting on Ashura, which is the 10th day of Muharram (Sunan al-Nasa’i, 2416). The Quraysh used to fast on this day in times of Jahiliyyah, and so did he ﷺ when still in Makkah. Once he ﷺ arrived in Madinah, he ﷺ noticed that the Jews were fasting on this day too, commemorating that sayyidina Musa had triumphed over Pharaoh. He ﷺ turned to the Muslims and said “You (Muslims) have more right to celebrate Musa’s victory than they have, so observe the fast on this day” (Sahih al-Bukhari, 4680). In order for us to distinguish ourselves as Muslims from the Jews and the Christians and their practices, our Prophet ﷺ decided to fast on the ninth day of Muharram too if he ﷺ would get the chance to the next year (Sahih Muslim, 1134).

 

Once fasting became obligatory in Ramadan, fasting on Ashura was made voluntary (Sahih al-Bukhari, 4504). In this sense, fasting on the 10th of Muharram was part of the process to introduce fasting as an integral part of our religion. The fast’s reward on this blessed day is clearly known. When asked about it, our Messenger ﷺ said that it expiates the sins of the previous year (Sahih Muslim, 1162).

Earmarks of Truth

Let us go back in time. On the exact day of Ashura, sayyidina Musa found himself trapped as he and his Bani Isra’il, an oppressed nation of enslaved people who had been exiled in the desert for 40 years, were hot on heels by the corrupted army of Pharaoh, the epitome of despotism. The only thing they had left was their faith. At that terrifying moment, Allah guided him to lead his people to the edge of the rumbling sea. His people cried out in pure desperation that they would be overtaken by the tyrant’s army or swallowed by the waves, yet he encouraged them, full of faith, “Absolutely not! My Lord is certainly with me—He will guide me” (Surat ash-Shu’ara, verse 62). His words were barely out of his mouth when Allah ordered him to strike the sea with his staff. Allah then split the entire mass of salty water in halves as high as mountains so they could get to the other side safely, creating a path of freedom. The army of Pharaoh? They all drowned. It is a timeless reminder that, by the grace of Allah, steadfast righteousness nurtured by absolute faith always triumphs over tyranny.

 

On the 10th of Muharram precisely 1387 lunar years ago, in the year 61 AH, another pivotal moment in our shared past as Muslims took place. It was a particularly tense time, as the Umayyad caliph Muʿawiya had appointed his son Yazid as his successor. Hereditary succession was unprecedented in Islamic history. The decision had stirred growing controversy and grunting discontent. Sayyidina al-Husayn ibn Ali, one of the most beloved grandsons of our Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, took it upon himself to stand up against Yazid’s unjust governance and the moral crisis in which his fractured community had found themselves. What followed was a staggeringly unfair battle between al-Husayn’s troops, painfully limited in number, and the thousands of merciless Umayyad soldiers.

Tragically, al-Husayn ibn Ali was decapitated and mocked, and about seventy of his close family members and companions were martyred. Many others were captured. This battle, the Battle of Karbala, and the betrayal of al-Husayn, may Allah approve him, by the people of Kufa it stood for, would mark the start of the Second Fitna. However, it teaches us not to measure victory according to dunyawi standards. You have probably caught yourself doing this too. We often attach more worth to the means and forget the goal. Al-Husayn’s true success, however, comes in the Hereafter. His martyrdom is a symbol of his deeply-rooted faith and endless sense of justice. It is an ultimate testimony of honoring the notion of tawhid, of striving for the Truth and standing up for it.

Ashura questions

Ashura reminds us that every Pharaoh will drown eventually. Every oppressor, big or small, will go down. Allah can do this easily. For every Pharaoh there should be a Musa who does his best to drown the oppressor, even if he only has a stick. Our iman should be that stick. Sayyidina Musa did not know that the sea would split, but he relied on Allah regardless. Allah did the rest. His assistance is always there for those who do not give up on His wisdom and mercy, those who strive in righteousness.

Over and over, we turn to the guidance of our Prophet ﷺ, especially in times of darkness. Muharram, one of the four sacred months of the Islamic calendar, stands for new beginnings. It is the chance to revive our commitment to his sunnah, to his path. Not to the path of those in power, nor of the financial elite of this world. Through fasting on its tenth day, we express our gratitude to Allah for the victory He granted sayyidina Musa over Pharaoh, and we commemorate sayyidina al-Husayn’s bravery when standing up for what is right.

As Muslims, we do not act as mouthpieces for injustice. Submitting to our Creator means renewing our covenant to tawhid, which inherently means standing for His truth, for justice, over and over again, unshakingly. Ashura asks us a crucial question. Do we really express our love for our Creator by speaking kalimat al-haqq in the face of tyrants, small and big? Or do we merely give lip service to Allah’s path? Do we really face the Pharaohs of this world, within ourselves and within others? Or do we betray the oppressed and sell them out like the people of Kufa did to sayyidina al-Husayn? Do we really have the level of tawakkul and courage it takes to take a clear stance when we face what feels like insurmountable adversities in this earthly realm? Do we truly grasp that this is what leads to ultimate victory? In essence, undoubtingly knowing that Allah is with us is what it takes.

The Red Sea, which Allah split for Prophet Musa on the day of Ashura. Getty Images.

How you can strike the sea

 

This year, the 10th of Muharram falls on a Thursday so we can combine the intentions of fasting both sunnahs. In this day and age we need to stand with the oppressed and try to be the stick in the wheel of the tyrants. Merely fasting without reminding ourselves of this would be like praying without khushuʿ or reciting the Qur’an merely for the reward of reading its letters without trying to understand its meanings. Here are some steps you can take.

 

• Fasting with intentions that reflect the above. Fasting in Muharram is the best fast after the fast in the month of Ramadan (Sahih Muslim, 1163). Fast at least on Ashura, and if possible also the day before and/or after. Shortly after Ashura come the White Days, so you can fast those too.
• Do what it takes to nourish your belief that victory will come, even in unlikely circumstances.
• Reflect on what injustice entails, close to you and further away. We cannot allow ourselves to be oppressors to our own soul, to our family, friends, colleagues, spouse, children, our ecological environment… Which injustice in your life do you need to take care of before you stand in front of Allah?
• As Ashura is a day of forgiveness, who will you forgive this year?
• Follow up on news of our oppressed brothers and sisters worldwide, in your own circles and communities, in Sudan, Palestine, Lebanon, Kashmir, China, and elsewhere, and let it sink in. Feel it in your heart and pray for them.
• Reflect on how you can strike the sea, with the right intention. Which stick will you use to fight tyrants and their injustice? Put this into action against oppression according to your context and capacities, without seeking fame nor praise: post on social media, help out someone who is oppressed (for instance, overwhelmed by debt), organize, stand up against bullies, get involved in your own community, select a cause for which you want to use your talents for and strive, and get connected to those who have experience therein.

The post Ashura: A Stick in the Oppressor’s Wheel appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

As the caravan passes through Central Asia, Darius slowly falls in love, and Kuangren experiences something brutal.

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16  | Part 17

* * *

Vast Blue Sky

The mountains gradually gave way to rolling grasslands that invited a man to breathe deeply, and a horse to run fast. Great green hills stretched to the horizon beneath a sky that was bigger than the world, while herds of horses grazed freely across the open country. The land too felt immense, but maybe it was only that there were few wells, fewer roads, and fewer signs that anyone had ever attempted to tame it.

At times I wished I too was a horse, so that I could gallop free across this sweeping land, my mane streaming behind me like a banner of victory. At other times the sky was so unrelenting that I had an irrational fear that a bird as big as a city would glide down and seize the entire caravan in its beak.

I wondered if this was what my father had felt like when he was released from prison. That the world was too large, that so much liberty was heady but frightening, as if he were a mouse that had been released from a cage, and now must fear the hawk. It made me uncomfortable and sad to think of my father being afraid. I shook these thoughts off and spurred my horse forward, to find Weili and chat.

The cold wind blew constantly, as if it too had escaped a prison and come to a land where it could gust as hard and carelessly as it wished.

“This is Kyrgyz land,” Longwei informed me as we rode alongside the wagons.

“How do you know?”

He looked offended. “I have been here before.”

We passed many nomadic settlements. Everyone in this land rode horses, even the children, with an ease and grace so natural it was as if they’d been born in the saddle. Maybe they had. These people lived in circular felt tents supported by wooden frames. Hundreds of these yurts – for so they were called, Longwei said – dotted the surrounding countryside. Smoke drifted lazily upward from their chimneys while horses, sheep and goats wandered between them. Men wore long coats trimmed with fur and tall felt hats, while many of the women dressed in bright embroidered garments decorated with silver jewelry that flashed in the sunlight.

Fight With A Nomad

I saw a man and his son practicing stick fighting. They carried long staffs, and danced around each other, whirling, thrusting and parrying. It reminded me of my practice sessions with my aunt Jade. I felt a pang of sadness.

To distract myself, I broke away from the caravan and rode up to the father and son. Dismounting, I bowed to the father, and he bowed back.

I tapped my chest. “Darius.”

The man pointed to himself. “Almaz.”

Gesturing wordlessly, I indicated that I would like to spar with him. Grinning, the man said something to his son, who tossed me his staff. Almaz and I bowed to each other again, and without preamble, he attacked. I parried his attack easily. The man was talented but limited in his repertoire, and slow by my standards, I spun and reversed, attacking from odd angles, giving the father something to think about. He grunted with the effort of blocking my blows. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

Still, I held back. I only wanted to have a bit of fun, not hurt the man.

As we fought, some of the caravan guards rode up to watch, and a number of nomads gathered around, including Almaz’s wife and children.

Almaz came at me with what I thought would be an uppercut strike. I leaned back to let it pass me harmlessly, but instead the tip of his staff dug into the ground and flung dirt in my eyes. Blinded, the next thing I saw was the tip of the staff at my throat, the father grinning behind it.

I laughed, held up a hand in surrender, and returned the staff to the boy. I was genuinely glad to have been bested. I had shown Almaz a few new moves, and he’d taught me something too. I shook his hand, and everyone applauded.

As I rode away, I looked back to see Almaz beaming as his friends clapped him on the back and congratulated him. Some of my fellow guards ribbed me about being beaten by a nomad, but Weili gave me a knowing smile, and I knew that she knew that I could have defeated the man at any time. I never forgot that smile, and the admiring look in her eyes.

A Bracelet and a Wooden Horse

We came to a city beside a broad river. High mud-brick walls surrounded clusters of flat-roofed buildings. Scents drifted to us before we reached the gates. Roasting meat mingled with fresh bread, horse sweat, leather, wood smoke and spices I could not identify. Merchants from a dozen lands crowded the roads leading into the city. Some led camels. Others drove wagons piled high with goods. I heard languages I could not begin to recognize.

The Five Stars caravan established camp on a flat topped hill. The city loomed on the horizon. Several merchants prepared to enter the city to see what goods they could acquire at the local marketplace, which Longwei called a suq. Two wagons were selected for the trip, along with a contingent of guards. To my surprise, Sergeant Karim chose me for the detail. He also chose Kuangren.

“If you disappear again,” Karim warned, pointing a finger at him, “I will nail your boots to a wagon. With your feet inside them.”

Kuangren considered this carefully. “You’re too good a man to do that.”

Karim gave him a serious look. “Don’t count on that.”

The suq was one of the most fascinating places I had ever seen. Narrow streets wound between market stalls crowded with carpets, silverwork, horse tack, bows, knives, embroidered clothing and goods from every corner of the world. One merchant sold hunting falcons. Another displayed exquisitely carved saddles. Yet another offered tiny painted figurines no larger than my thumb. I also saw many things, from bracelets and amulets to furniture and tea sets, that were decorated with Islamic designs, including geometric patterns, and the names of Allah and the Prophet. I assumed these items were here to catch the eyes of passing Muslim travelers.

I fingered a silver bracelet decorated with onyx stones that reminded me of Weili’s eyes. Feeling embarrassed, I nearly put the bracelet back, then bought it anyway.

Later I found a carved wooden horse small enough to fit in my palm. I told myself I admired the craftsmanship. The fact that it looked exactly like something Haaris would treasure had absolutely nothing to do with my decision.

No, nothing whatsoever. Still, I would hold onto it. Maybe someday I’d find someone to give it to.

A Muslim Land

Once the sun passed its zenith, the call for salat sounded from every direction. I gazed at one of the merchants in amazement. He grinned and nodded his head, giving me permission to investigate. Store owners everywhere closed their shops and exited the suq. Customers, travelers, tribesmen, nobles and servants streamed toward the masjids. That’s right, masjids, plural. There was not one grand masjid, like in Deep Harbor. Rather, there were masjids everywhere. I realized for the first time that all these people were Muslim. I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck.

In my country Muslims were a minority. Deep Harbor was one of the most heavily Muslim cities in the land, and even there only a fifth of the population were Muslim. I had known, of course, that there were faraway lands where Islam ruled, but I hadn’t known that we had reached such a place. I felt almost like weeping, but couldn’t say why. I felt powerful, like nothing could threaten me.

I followed one group to a local masjid, performed wudu, and with my travel pack and dao on my back, prayed beside people of many lands. When the salat was over I found myself grinning and shaking hands with everyone. No matter what language they spoke, everyone knew how to say as-salam alaykum. A man might gesture at my size – for I had grown taller and stronger on this trip – and say, “mashaAllah!” Another pointed to my dao, then pointed to the sky and said, “Allahu Akbar!’ I wasn’t sure if this was an indication of approval, or a reminder that true power was with Allah.

Raiders!

By late afternoon our business was concluded and the wagons rolled back toward camp. It was only after we arrived that someone noticed Kuangren was missing.

Several guards exchanged resigned looks.

Ahmed sighed, Meilin rolled her eyes and Longwei merely shook his head and said, “Again?”

No one seemed especially alarmed. Kuangren disappearing was hardly unusual. In fact, it had become so common that we hardly knew whether to laugh, get angry or simply not care.

The sun had already set when the sound of galloping hooves shattered the evening calm. A lone rider burst into camp at full speed, his horse kicking up dust and covered in sweat.

“Raiders!” he shouted. “Raiders!”

It was Kuangren.

The camp erupted into motion.

Guards scrambled for their weapons while merchants took shelter behind the wagons. Horses whinnied nervously as teamsters rushed to secure them. I drew my dao and joined the line forming along the outer edge of camp. Kaungren slid from his beleaguered horse and gesticulated.

“Raiders!” he shouted. “Hundreds of them!”

“How many hundreds?” Karim demanded.

Kuangren shrugged. “A lot, probably.”

Hold Your Fire

A dark mass appeared on the horizon – hundreds of riders, coming fast from the direction of the city, and spreading across the grasslands as they approached. My stomach tightened. They came up the hill at a gallop, raising a cloud of dust behind them, their horses moving with the effortless grace of men born in the saddle. Bows hung from their shoulders, spears bounced against their backs, and curved sabers gleamed at their hips.

Our archers raised their bows. We had the high ground advantage. We could cut down a good portion of this attacking force before they even reached us.

“Hold your fire!” Karim shouted.

The riders continued to close the distance.

“Hold your fire!”

Something about the approaching force seemed wrong. They were certainly armed, but none had drawn a weapon. Nor were they forming for an attack. They were not trying to flank us, for example, nor was anyone shouting commands.

The riders finally slowed and spread out in front of the camp. At their center rode a wealthy merchant with a magnificent beard and an expression of such furious outrage that I reached up for my dao, though I did not draw it, for a young woman with thick chestnut hair, and dressed in embroidered riding clothes rode confidently by his side, mounted on a gorgeous spotted horse. She wore no sword, but a long knife hung from one hip, and she carried a bow on her back. Yet gold bracelets adorned her wrists, and one nostril was pierced with a gold ring. She resembled the merchant strongly, and was obviously his daughter. She was altogether quite impressive.

On the other side of the merchant sat an elderly man with a long beard, wearing an expensive coat. He was surrounded by heavily armed retainers, and might have been a tribal chief.

The rich merchant said something to the young woman, who slowly surveyed all the guards, then extended an arm and pointed.

Every head in camp turned to see what she was pointing out.

She was pointing at Kaungren.

Kuangren attempted a smile, which faltered and disappeared.

Karim strode up to him. “Raiders?”

Kuangren cleared his throat. “I may have misstated the case slightly.”

“What did you do?”

Kuangren shrugged helplessly. “I met the young lady in the suq.” He gestured to the lovely young lady.

“And?”

Kuangren chuckled nervously. “Well… It’s hard to talk to a lady when she’s with her chaperone. We found a quiet spot in a garden.”

Sergeant Karim took a step toward Kuangren. “And?” His tone was menacing.

“Come on, Sarge. I didn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to. How was I supposed to know her father is some kind of big shot? It’s not my fault that – “

Karim struck Kuangren with a series of blows so rapid I hardly followed them, ending with a fast chop to the side of the neck. Shocked, I watched as Kuangren crumpled bonelessly to the ground. The young woman cried out, not in satisfaction but in protest, and her father silenced her with a gesture.

Negotiations

The negotiations that followed consumed the better part of an hour. Translators moved constantly between groups while the merchant, the chieftain, several elders and Karim argued as Kaungren sat miserably on the ground, massaging his bruises.

The daughter herself seemed perfectly content with the situation. She stroked her horse’s neck and watched the proceedings with glittering eyes. I had the feeling this woman never did anything she didn’t want to do. On that, at least, Kuangren had not lied.

Her father, on the other hand, shouted and gesticulated continuously. More than once he took his bow from his back and nocked an arrow, aiming at Kaungren, whereupon our own people armed themselves in response. Each time the chieftain spoke a sharp word, and everyone settled back into an uneasy truce.

As the discussion continued, it became increasingly clear that there would be no peaceful solution that did not involve marriage. The father demanded it. The chieftain demanded it. Most surprisingly to me, the daughter seemed pleased at the prospect. Who would want to marry Kaungren of all people?

Eventually Karim made an announcement:

“Five Stars will provide compensation to the merchant and his tribe. The merchant’s honor will be restored. The caravan will continue unmolested.” He paused. “And Kuangren will marry the girl.”

For a moment there was silence.

Then Kaungren stood. “What?”

Karim folded his arms.

“You heard me.”

“I object.”

“I don’t care.”

“I can’t get married. I don’t even speak this woman’s language. Besides, I’m not fit for marriage. I’m a scoundrel. Sergeant, tell them I’m a scoundrel.”

“Trust us,” Meilin said, “they already know.”

“You will have to convert to Islam as well,” Karim said. “They will never accept their daughter marrying a disbeliever.”

Kaungren threw up his arms. “Doesn’t anyone know that we live in enlightened times? Such things don’t happen anymore!”

A Swordpoint Wedding

Things moved very quickly. Money changed hands. Ahmed was recruited to conduct the ceremony. A carpet was spread beside the campfire. Witnesses were assembled. The merchant sat proudly beside the tribal chieftain. I had the feeling that he was happy to be rid of his daughter, who seemed like a handful herself. I wondered if Kuangren knew what he was getting himself into. The daughter appeared delighted by the entire affair. Kuangren looked as though he had been condemned to death.

Ahmed cleared his throat and began in the name of Allah. The laughter faded as he recited a few ayat of the Quran concerning marriage and the creation of mankind in pairs. He then delivered a short khutbah on responsibility and kindness. It lasted less than two minutes. When he finished, he turned toward Kuangren.

“Repeat after me.” Ahmed recited the shahadah, and Kaungren – with a grimace – repeated.

Ahmed nodded, satisfied. “Do you accept this marriage?”

“No.”

Sergeant Karim took a step toward Kuangren.

“Let me ask again,” Ahmed said. Do you accept this marriage?”

Kuangren looked around as if seeking an escape route. The merchant glared. The chieftain narrowed his eyes. Karim took another step forward and put a hand on the hilt of his sword. It was not, I was sure, an empty threat. The bride smiled sweetly.

“Okay, then.”

Ahmed turned to the young woman and asked the same question. Someone translated. Her answer came instantly and enthusiastically.

“I accept!”

The surrounding tribesmen erupted into cheers. I found myself grinning. For some reason I wanted to seek out Weili and give her a nudge, as if to say, “What do you think?” But I knew that was beyond foolish.

The bride immediately wrapped her arms around Kuangren and kissed his cheek. More cheering followed. Kuangren stared into the distance as if contemplating whether being trampled by wild horses might improve his circumstances.

The celebrations continued into the night. Sheep were slaughtered, musicians appeared from somewhere, and gifts changed hands. We found ourselves sitting with these tribesmen, making mutually unintelligible conversation that consisted mostly of hand gestures, and sharing coffee and sweets. The merchant transformed from a man ready to start a war into the happiest father in Central Asia. The bride spent most of the evening sitting beside Kuangren, smiling at him and occasionally resting her head on his shoulder. Kuangren spent most of the evening staring into his bowl with the expression of a man trying to come to terms with a diagnosis of a terminal disease.

I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

When the celebrations were over, the tribesmen departed. A covered wagon was emptied, with its goods distributed among the other wagons, and it was given to Kaungren and his bride as their wedding suite, which I found somehow funny, embarrassing and scandalous.

A Brutal Judgment

The next morning, immediately after Fajr prayer, Karim ordered every guard assembled. Gone were the laughter and celebrations of the previous night. Even the air felt different.

We gathered in silence while dawn spread slowly across the grasslands. Kuangren stood among us looking tired and uneasy. His bride watched from their wagon, looking somehow satisfied and nervous at the same time. She clearly sensed that something was wrong, though she could not have known exactly what.

Karim waited until every guard was present. Then he began to pace before us with his hands clasped behind his back. Something that looked a lot like a bullwhip was looped and hung from his belt. This puzzled me, as my mind did not conceive of any possible use for it.

“Kuangren,” he said. “Step forward.”

With a half-grin, half-grimace, Kaungren stepped forward. He expected a stern dressing down, and was prepared to accept it with humility.

“I have tolerated your foolishness for months,” Sergeant Karim said. His voice was quiet, which somehow made it more threatening. “You drink too much. You gamble too much. You disappear whenever we pass near a town. You ignore orders. You ignore common sense. I have overlooked all of this because you fight well. So despite being an idiot, you are a useful idiot.” A few guards smiled despite themselves. Karim noticed immediately, and the smiles vanished.

The sergeant took a long, shuddering breath, and for the first time I realized that he was white-hot furious. He was trying to contain his rage. I had never seen him like this, and it frightened me.

Once again his gaze fixed on Kuangren. “Last night you endangered this caravan. You created enemies among the local population. You forced me to negotiate with armed men. You cost this company a substantial amount of money.” His voice rose with each accusation. “Had those negotiations failed, I might have lost guards, merchants, and teamsters. Good people. People who trust me to get them safely to Persia and back. All because you could not keep your trousers tied.”

The silence that followed was absolute. Even Meilin, who could make a disparaging comment about anything in existence, kept her mouth shut.

Karim held up the index finger of each hand. “You have two options. One, you and your bride may accept exile from the caravan. Your wages are forfeit. You can take your travel pack and weapons, and go wherever you wish. What becomes of you is not my concern.”

With the other index finger, he pointed to the nearest wagon wheel. “Option two, I tie you to that wheel and give you twenty lashes.” He drew the bullwhip from his belt and with a swing of his arm, flicked it. It billowed out as fast as lightning and gave a crack that made me jump.

“If you choose that option, you may remain in service to Five Stars, and there will be no further punishment.”

Twenty Lashes

For several seconds nobody moved. We all understood the choice. Thousands of miles from home, the caravan represented food, protection and survival. Without it, Kuangren would either have to settle permanently in a foreign land or attempt the impossible journey across half the world on foot, accompanied by a wife he had acquired less than twelve hours earlier. Or I supposed he could dump the wife at the city gates and run for his life.

He looked toward the distant hills, then toward the wagons. For the first time since I had met him, he appeared genuinely frightened. He opened his mouth to protest, then shut it.

“I’ll take the lashes,” he said quietly.

The punishment was carried out immediately.

Kuangren removed his shirt and was bound to a wagon wheel. He was a pale, skinny man with narrow shoulders. I couldn’t imagine what women saw in him.

Sergeant Karim rolled his shoulders and shook out the bullwhip. Around us, merchants emerged from their wagons and tents to watch. Even the horses seemed unusually quiet.

Karim wound up, swung his arm and let the whip fly. The first strike landed with a crack like a branch snapping in half.

I flinched, as did several others. A red welt appeared on Kaungren’s back, and while he grunted in pain, he did not cry out.

The second blow cut through the skin. The third opened it. By the fifth, blood streaked Kuangren’s back and dripped onto the grass beneath him. His bride began shouting in alarm. Longwei, who spoke some Kyrgyz, hurried over to her and attempted to explain what was happening. Whatever explanation he offered only seemed to upset her more. She tried to push past him and run toward her husband, but Longwei gently restrained her.

The sixth lash landed. Then the seventh. Then the eighth. Each impact sounded worse than the last. Kuangren’s entire body jerked with every strike, yet somehow he remained silent. Sweat poured down his face. The muscles in his neck stood out like cables. His breathing became ragged and uneven, but not once did he cry out. This surprised me. Though he was a good fighter, I had always seen him as a fundamentally weak man. I did not find him funny or cute. In fact, I realized now, I despised him. Seeing him whipped provided me with no satisfaction, but it didn’t bother me either.

Still, by the tenth lash I found myself staring at the ground. By the twelfth, several of the older guards looked disturbed. Meilin looked as serious as I had ever seen her. The bride wept.

The whipping went on. A movement beside me caught my eye. Ahmed had stepped forward. Not much. Only a pace. But enough that everyone nearby noticed. His face showed horrified resolve. For a moment I thought he was going to intervene.

Karim looked at him. No words passed between them. Yet something in Karim’s expression caused Ahmed to slowly step back into line.

When the whipping was done, Karim stepped forward personally and untied the ropes binding Kuangren’s wrists. The moment he was released, Kuangren’s legs gave out beneath him. He was unconscious.

The camp physician immediately ordered everyone away. Without really thinking about it, I volunteered to help. The old man looked surprised. “You know something about medicine?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Kuangren awakened as we treated his wounds. His hands clenched and unclenched around the blanket while the physician worked, yet he never complained.

“You know the worst part?” Kuangren said.

“What?”

“I’m not even sure I know my wife’s name.”

The physician burst out laughing.

I shook my head, though I couldn’t help smiling.

Blue Domed Mosques

The weeks that followed carried us westward through lands I had only seen on maps. Uzbekistan was a country of broad valleys, ancient cities and blue-domed masjids that gleamed beneath the sun like polished gemstones. These masjids were the most beautiful things I had ever seen, and I thought that Uzbekistan must be a piece of Jannah on earth.

With everything that had happened after our visit to Kyrgyz, I had never given Weili the bracelet I bought for her. Now, the moment seemed right. I knew she was stationed at the rear of the caravan, and as we passed through a glorious valley alight with wildflowers, I pulled my horse out of formation and dropped back to find her. Her long black hair was loose and whipping in the wind. Sergeant Karim would not like that if he saw it. She rode easily in the saddle, her eyes scanning the surrounding hills.

I nodded. “Any news?”

She snorted. “What am I, the town crier?”

I laughed. With a smile, keeping my voice casual, I said, “I got you something back in Kyrgyz. With all the excitement I forgot to give it to you.”

Her face lit up. “Really? What is it?”

I handed her the bracelet. “It reminded me of you.”

A smile brighter than the sun transformed her face. “It’s lovely! Thank you so much, Darius. That’s so nice of you. Next time don’t wait a month to give it to me, though.”

I laughed again. “Glad you like it!” With that I galloped forward to my station. I was pleased with myself for having played it just right, nice and easy.

We arrived at a city called Samarkand. I stood staring at buildings so beautiful they seemed unreal. Great turquoise domes rose above tiled courtyards covered in geometric patterns and Quranic calligraphy. Merchants crowded the markets selling melons, apricots, silk, spices and carpets from every corner of the known world. Everywhere I looked I saw evidence of centuries of wealth, learning and trade.

And all these lands were Muslim. For the first time I was beginning to understand the vastness of Islam. It was not a local religion practiced by a minority of people. It was, quite possibly, the dominant belief system of the world. Many on our caravan were not Muslim, and in a turnaround I found satisfying, they were now the minority. All around me I was surrounded by my brothers and sisters in faith.

Yet I saw pick pockets and the occasional street fight. A local merchant struck his wife in the face, and another whipped his donkey too cruelly. A drunk sat slumped against a wall. One businessman accused another of cheating. Being Muslim, it seemed, was not a cure-all for humanity’s problems. It did not turn men into angels. This was something I would have to ponder.

Beyond Samarkand, we traveled through Bukhara, where Islamic scholars seemed almost as common as merchants. Half the people we encountered seemed to have memorized much or all of the Quran. This astounded and inspired me. Zihan Ma would love this place. I wished our caravan could stay longer. I resolved that one day I would return to study here.

Ahmed nearly drove Karim mad by repeatedly disappearing into bookstores and madrasahs whenever we stopped for more than an hour.

“If the scholars kidnap you,” Karim warned him, “I’m not paying a ransom.”

Ahmed looked genuinely puzzled. “Why would the scholars kidnap me?”

“To make you listen to their stories.”

Ahmed laughed. “Hey, as long as you’re not going to bullwhip me, I’m fine.”

Karim turned away, all humor gone from his face. No wonder Ahmed almost never told jokes. He was terrible at it.

After our time in Bukahra, I began spending more time with my own copy of the Quran. I memorized all of Juz Amma, and began on Surat Al-Mursalat, and then Al-Insan.

Good Spirits

From there we entered Tajik lands. The roads climbed steadily into mountain valleys fed by icy rivers descending from distant snow-covered peaks. Villages clung to hillsides above terraced fields. Stone houses stood against slopes so steep I could not imagine building anything there. The people looked different from those we had encountered farther east, many with lighter skin, lighter eyes and sharper features than I was accustomed to seeing. At first they looked strange to me, but soon I began to find them quite beautiful.

During all this time I continued to ride with Weili at times, sit with her at the campfire at night, and teach her the Quran. She often wore the bracelet I’d bought her, and that made me happy. I taught a number of the short surahs of Juz Amma. She stumbled over some of the Arabic, laughed at her own mistakes, and occasionally became frustrated, but she persisted.

“I know that you believe deeply in Islam,” she said to me one night over a campfire. “You talk about Allah, and it’s as if you are talking about your best friend. It’s amazing to me.”

“Don’t you believe?”

She stared into the flames for a long moment.

“I don’t know. I have seen a lot of evil.”

It was an honest answer, and I did not try to change her mind with my words.

In exchange, she began teaching me archery. I quickly discovered that shooting a bow well was much harder than it looked.

“You are pulling with your arms,” she said one afternoon as I attempted to shoot a very large tree and failed. “Use your back.”

I understood the concept of not using the arms to power a movement. My father had taught me the same thing in martial arts. Power came from footwork, body rotation and body weight. The back, however, was foreign territory.

“My back is for loading crates at the dock,” I complained. “How am I supposed to use it to pull the bowstring?”

“You’re not on the docks. Be quiet and empty your cup.”

That made me laugh. I had heard that expression many times from Zihan Ma, but never from Weili.

“Where did you learn that saying?”

“What? You think I’m stupid just because I don’t know how to read like you?”

“Of course not,” I said hastily. “You are very intelligent. I admire your brain. I mean, I think you are the most, you know, I mean you’re great, and -”

“Oh, shut up and shoot.”

I released the arrow. “I hit it!”

“It’s the biggest tree in the world,” she said. “It’s the size of a house.”

Which was true. And the arrow had, in fact, barely struck the edge of it.

Slowly, something changed in me. I found myself waking before dawn in unusually good spirits. Chores that normally irritated me seemed less burdensome. I brushed horses, checked harnesses, repaired equipment and stood watch without complaint. Food tasted better. The weather seemed friendlier. Even Karim’s constant criticism became easier to tolerate. And I thought about Weili a lot. I looked for her, and smiled when I saw her.

One evening Longwei sat beside me while I sharpened my dao and Weili practiced archery a short distance away.

“You look at her too much,” he observed. “And you smile too much.”

“I do not.”

He recited one of his poems:

A bee finds a flower
and believes the sun rises for him.
The flower blooms.
The bee grows drunk.
Winter begins its unforgiving descent.
The flower that bloomed dies away,
and the world wishes only to survive.

“That is depressing.”

“You should consider it carefully.”

I threw a pebble at him, and he smiled sadly.

Orange Bellbird

Several weeks later we entered a broad valley filled with farms, orchards and prosperous villages. Long before we reached the largest town, however, we began noticing signs of unusual activity. Banners hung from rooftops and fences. Families traveled the roads in carts and on horseback. Musicians played in the streets, and entire groups of villagers seemed to be heading in the same direction.

A local merchant eventually explained the reason. An annual archery competition was being held. Competitors traveled from throughout the region to participate, and the winner received not only a substantial prize but considerable prestige. The moment Weili heard this, she became impossible to live with. For the remainder of the day she bombarded every local she encountered with questions about the competition, the rules, the bows and the previous champions.

Weili’s excitement was infectious, and I was excited for her. She and I had grown very close by this point. We spent a lot of our free time together, though always in public. Our relationship was not physical, but I found myself dreaming about her occasionally. Even though Kaungren’s wedding had been a fiasco held at swordpoint, I thought about it a lot. Kaungren’s bride was no older than Weili. Yet whenever I considered the prospect of marrying Weili, my mouth became dry, and sweat broke out on my forehead. I knew that Weili liked me, but beyond that I was not sure of anything.

By the time we pitched camp outside the town, half the younger guards wanted to attend the archery competition. Karim eventually relented and allowed a group of us to go, provided we remained armed and returned before sunset.

Longwei approached me as I secured my pack straps.

“Have you considered my poem?” he asked.

“Which one?” I didn’t have time for this.

He regarded me solemnly. “Never mind the poem. In the forests of Southeast Asia there is a bird called an orange bellbird. It’s small, but sings more beautifully than any lute or harp. When you hear it, you are reminded of Allah’s angels. You feel that the world is beautiful, and that everything is possible.

Yet if you catch it and cage it, you will be disappointed, for it will sit silently, and will soon die. You can never own an orange bellbird. You can only appreciate it from a distance.”

I made a helpless gesture. “Are we talking about flowers or birds?”

Longwei pursed his lips. “Neither. Enjoy the archery competition.”

* * *

As-salamu alaykum dear readers. Sorry for  the delay. But hey, I have you a double length chapter this week!

Come back next week for Part 19 – The Glory of Persia

Reader comments and constructive criticism are important to me, so please comment!

 

See the Story Index for Wael Abdelgawad’s other stories on this website.

Wael Abdelgawad’s novels – including Pieces of a Dream, The Repeaters and Zaid Karim Private Investigator – are available in ebook and print form on his author page at Amazon.com.

Related:

Pieces of a Dream | Part 1: The Cabbie and the Muslim Woman

Trust Fund And A Yellow Lamborghini: A Short Story

The post Far Away [Part 18] – The Flower Blooms, And The Flower Dies appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Ex-police official Nicoletta della Valle could be charged with abuse of public office.

Muslims in the UK, Europe and the US are increasingly fearful and frustrated as targeted attacks rise. Others must speak out

The chilling attacks that injured five men in Edinburgh at the weekend, including two who were struck as they left a mosque, have deepened the fear that many Muslims in Britain feel today. The case received remarkably little attention south of the border. A man has now been charged with five counts of attempted murder, allegedly “aggravated by reason of having a terrorist connection”. The facts of these attacks must now be examined in court in due course.

What is beyond doubt is the real and growing fear experienced by Muslim communities in the UK, Europe and elsewhere. The US president has said that “I think Islam hates us”. Increasingly open Islamophobic rhetoric from political figures, and a muted response from others, as well as violence towards Muslims, have left many feeling vulnerable and frustrated.

Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.

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Alsayed searches the world for his uncle Ghazi, a former resistance fighter.

Zoë Rogers on why she helped destroy Israeli drones in the UK. Jon Elmer reports on week 15 of the battle in South Lebanon, and Ali Abunimah provides analysis on the US-Iran deal.

Deir al-Balah municipality is struggling to keep life moving amid overcrowding, underfunding and scarcity.

Teva seems to be in breach of EU transparency rules.

Camille Farrah Lenain’s tender photo book Made of Smokeless Fire was inspired by grief for her gay uncle Farid. ‘He left without answering the questions I had for him,’ she says

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With their offices destroyed and their colleagues targeted, reporters must create new paths to continue their work.

Previously (in Part I), I discussed some of the rationale behind the pressing need for Muslims to pursue law and emerge as excellent, well-rounded practitioners grounded in the Islamic worldview. The following turns to the practical, drawn from my own experience, mistakes, and the mentorship I received.

How Do You Know You’re Ready for Law School?

There is no single moment of readiness; however, what you should have is clarity of purpose and a realistic picture of what the next three years (and further study) will cost, financially and spiritually. If you cannot articulate why you want to practice beyond a blasé desire “to help people”, that is a sign to spend more time researching and speaking with lawyers in the field.

The day-to-day of legal practice is unglamorous, and law school is a sustained exercise in pressure. Solely wanting to do good, inshaAllah, is not enough of an anchor when it is difficult, and it will get difficult.

Relatedly, another signal of readiness is reading seriously and widely. Law is a discipline built on close, critical reading and writing. You should already be someone who reads deeply: history, philosophy, journalism, Islamic texts, etc. If sustained reading feels like a burden now, law school will not fix that. The students who thrive are not necessarily the most credentialed; rather, they are ones who have trained themselves to sit with difficult material and write clearly. Start there.

A word on finances: law school is expensive. High debt constraints choices and naturally push people towards higher-paying work and away from precisely the paths – public interest, solo practice, nonprofit, etc – most likely to serve everyday Muslim legal needs. Before committing to any school, do the math honestly. Look at average starting salaries in the field you want to enter and run numbers against your projected debt. Note that scholarship negotiation is normal, expected, and unlikely to jeopardize your admission. If you have a stronger financial offer from a comparable or better institution, say so professionally and leverage it. Often, students leave significant money on the table simply because they feel it was presumptuous to ask. 

Getting In and Getting Through: Practical Advice

1. Map Out the Next Few Years

Before starting the law school application process, take time to map out where you want to be in the next 3-5 years. Think carefully about your ‘ilm goals, family goals, areas of interest, finances, and potential challenges, then speak to professionals in the field you aspire to enter. 

These conversations offer invaluable insights into the realities of the field, the steps you need to take, the timeline for achieving your goals, and what mistakes to avoid. Aiming for, say, expertise in tax law or the big-law route will look and make different demands on time, region, and (sometimes) tier of school, more than pursuing a judicial clerkship or becoming a solo practitioner.

I found it especially helpful to receive candid advice from other Muslimahs. All of them echoed that familial responsibilities should not be underestimated, but require diligent planning. A common concern is that being a Muslim woman in law will be impossibly difficult or require sacrificing marriage and family, but that is shaped by an outdated view of the profession, often modeled on the high-pressure, high-hour lifestyle of big law firms. In reality, the field is far more diverse. There’s a world of difference between litigating at a top defense firm and working remotely as corporate counsel, or building a public interest career. Government roles, nonprofit advocacy, academia, transactional versus litigation work, these all carry different demands, and many offered far more flexibility than I realized going in. The legal profession is vast, and with good guidance and planning, it can accommodate a wide range of life goals.

2. Pursue ‘Ilm Early and Consistently

I spent my summer before and during law school in Cairo with my husband, studying with different teachers, and now have returned for (inshaAllah) a year of studies. I recognize that this is not feasible for everyone. However, there are excellent programs in the U.S. that make it possible to gain exposure to ‘ilm, whether online or in-person, part-time or full-time. The point is, any engagement with good teachers is invaluable. Begin with foundational works that cover ‘ibadat (worship), then exposure to issues of mu’amalat (transactions and relationships).

Prior to making the decision to move abroad, I spoke with a few mentors, including the Assistant Dean at my school. She noted that while it is not uncommon for law graduates to immediately start pursuing advanced degrees like an MBA or a PhD, delaying entry into the workforce results in falling behind peers financially and career-wise. That was her only point of caution when I mentioned my goals, but otherwise, she was supportive. 

If I could do it over, however, I would have pursued ‘ilm earlier, and not just for spiritual reasons. It simply is harder when career considerations and familial obligations grow. Learning Arabic, for example, opens access to legal texts and compendia that are indispensable for anyone interested in Islamic jurisprudence. Doing so would’ve been easier for me to engage in and relate to my classes and research papers by bringing that depth of research.

3. Seek Mentorship and Good Suhbah (Company)

The legal field is already competitive, and depending on the school, it can be cutthroat. Law school is an isolating experience in many ways due to the demands on one’s time and relentless focus on performance. It builds discipline and good work ethics, but can quickly devolve into dreaded burnout and spiritual sickness.

During my first year of law school, I joined online legal ethics classes with Shaykh Amin Kholwadia of Al-Amin Ethics. Shaykh Amin’s focus on training Muslim professionals “to understand, present, represent, and re-present Islamic Civilizational values in their respective professions” bridged the gap between theory and practice I was looking for. It offered rigorous knowledge through an established methodology, tying back to the pursuit of ‘ilm point above, but also a space for mentorship and community, a rare combination that sustained me throughout my legal education.

Beyond the ethics classes, annual conferences and regular meetings became a crucial part of my suhbah and growth. They provided an opportunity to discuss challenges we were facing in our schools, receive guidance on applications and assignments, and engage with experienced legal practitioners and mentors with a similar mindset.

Good suhbah also provided a critical spiritual component. In the midst of demanding schedules and a hyper-competitive environment, being connected with individuals who prioritized faith and reminded me of my higher purpose kept me grounded. These were people who understood the unique challenges of weighing professional ambitions and religious obligations, and could reinforce the importance of maintaining integrity in both.

Conversations often extended beyond academic or career advice to reflections on how to approach legal practice as a form of service and accountability to Allah . This spiritual companionship was essential in navigating moments of doubt or moral compromise. Finding a support system that can do this, whether at your university, local mosque, or similar online classes, will be invaluable.

4. Engage with Your School and Extracurricular Activities

Extracurricular activities provide opportunities to polish critical skills. Joining a law journal allowed me to engage in editorial decisions and contribute my own writing, offering a place to bring nuanced perspectives relating to issues like the niqab. The next year, we held a symposium on the topic “Emerging Issues in International Humanitarian Law,” wherein many speakers discussed war crimes in Gaza.

Involvement in student leadership or organizations that represent the broader student body is another meaningful way to engage and have our positions heard. Like with many fields, one of the challenges was the dismissive or anthropological treatment of religion, which was particularly intriguing at an institution that prided itself on serving minority communities, many of whom are deeply religious. But, constructive discussions with school leadership can make a difference. Our Muslim Law Student Association was able to provide feedback that led to reasonable accommodations for religious holidays, including Ramadan, which started with building a good relationship with the administration and being active on the campus, and then substantive discussions on bringing in guest lecturers and possibly even classes on religion and the law in the future. In another example, our Law Students’ Association signed onto a letter to affirm its commitment to protecting students who were being doxxed or threatened for their views in support of Gaza. The same association also held an open forum to gather perspectives for its statement addressing the violence in the Middle East. 

While graduate school is a different environment from the undergraduate level, where most are more occupied with full-time responsibilities, that doesn’t mean meaningful campus engagement should be left behind. Advocacy at this stage also builds real-world skills (coalition-building, strategic communication, institutional negotiation) that translate directly into legal and policy work. Additionally, the relationships forged at this time with faculty, admin, or fellow students become the ones that open doors down the line, which leads me to my last point.

5. Network Widely

Networking is essential, and limiting oneself to only Muslim circles can lead to an insular view of the legal system. While connecting with other Muslims, as noted above, is vital, engaging with non-Muslims is also critical for professional growth. Many areas of law (estate planning, corporate law, or even niche fields like arbitration) require collaboration with attorneys who have specialized experience. The opposite is also true; a non-Muslim attorney with Muslim clients in a region with little to no Muslim attorneys may often consult a Muslim attorney for guidance on certain issues. Attending webinars, conferences, or specialized training programs exposes you to a broader range of expertise and resources.

Every Muslim who enters the field with sincere intentions and a desire to seek sacred knowledge is, in some way, closing a gap that has had real consequences. The advice above is tailored towards providing a framework for entering the legal profession as a well-rounded individual, whose worldview informs the substance and direction of their work. The community’s legal needs run deeper than surface-level representation. Muslims dealing with issues of marriage, divorce, contracts, estates, disputes, etc., deserve attorneys who understand U.S. law and the moral and jurisprudential tradition that has shaped how Muslims understand their obligations. 

The work is long, the preparation longer, but as the community grows, its needs deepen, so too must the ranks of those equipped to serve it. Those who enter this field grounded in ‘ilm (sacred knowledge), supported by strong mentorship, and connected to a broader purpose, will be best positioned to practice law as a form of service and accountability to Allah , inshaAllah.

 

Related:

– The Limits Of Obedience In Marriage: A Hanafi Legal Perspective

The post So You Want To Become A Lawyer? [Part II] – How To Ready Yourself For A Career In Law appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Israel’s destruction in Gaza has not spared vital documents which are impossible to renew under current conditions.

Despite securing scholarships abroad, students from Gaza are unable to travel to further their education.

Before applying to law school, I spoke to Muslim lawyers for advice and mentorship. One lawyer I connected with was based in the U.K. and worked in human rights, advocating for Muslims impacted by the War on Terror. 

At this point in my life, I was interested in either immigration law or international humanitarian law. During the call, he explained that while many Muslims seek a path in the legal field for similar reasons, many Muslims’ legal needs in the West actually lie in the day-to-day. Marriages, divorces, disputes, business contracts, estate planning – these are areas where the average Muslim regularly finds themselves at odds with the law of the land or unsure of how to reconcile their faith’s obligations as U.S. residents or citizens. You may be able to avoid it, but if you intend to live out the rest of your days in the U.S., then you must know that even you cannot outrun probate courts, and preferably thought about it beforehand rather than after the death of a loved one.

This idea was reinforced during an internship at a Muslim boutique law firm where the supervising attorney stressed the importance of “bread and butter” legal work: drafting contracts and settling disputes. These are, in the language of jurists, matters of mu’amalat: the domain of the Shari’a that governs our transactions and relationships with one another. This is not to diminish the significance of civil rights advocacy, humanitarian law, or immigration law. These fields are undoubtedly critical, especially in light of the genocide in Gaza, arbitrary detentions of student protestors and advocates, and deteriorating civil rights. However, we also cannot overlook the need for legal expertise in the domains that shape our everyday lives, particularly where our fard al-ayn is concerned. Ensuring that our daily interactions – contracts, marriages, business dealings, and how we resolve disputes with others both on an individual and institutional level – are shari’a-compliant (as best we can) is an obligation, not a personal preference or last-minute add-on. It is a fard (obligation) to know the ruling (hukm) of an act before engaging in it, yet we routinely do so.

A Case Study: Islamic Marriage Contracts in the U.S.

I’ll give readers a case study that is perhaps unusual when we think of Islam and U.S. law, nonetheless salient for the point I am trying to make. In 2001, the following case was presented to the Court of Appeals of California, Fourth District1: a Muslim couple married decades ago in Egypt filed for divorce. California, like other community property states, has a presumption that acquisitions during a marriage (barring exceptions like inheritance) belong equally to each spouse, thus are to be divided equally upon divorce – unless the presumption can be overcome. The husband presented their Egyptian nikah contract, claiming it was a prenuptial agreement stipulating that marital issues were to be governed under “Islamic law”, but nothing more. If the nikah contract was upheld as an enforceable prenuptial agreement under U.S. law, his medical practice and retirement accounts would be considered his separate property and not community property, thus would not have to be divided with his ex-wife.

And therein lies the problem: the Court here was not looking at the substance of Islamic law on marital assets, per se. In one footnote, they even comment, “There are at least four schools of interpretation of Islamic law…The legal system in various Islamic countries will often be influenced by one school or the other. Egypt, for example, has been influenced by both the Hanafi and Maliki schools.” Instead, the Court focused on whether the document contained sufficiently clear and enforceable terms to function as a pre-nup. They found that it did not. So, the presumption of splitting everything equally held.

When my marital property professor, herself a family law practitioner, taught this case, she mentioned the lack of adequate legal help for Muslims in the local area. Because when Muslims, like others, marry and divorce, and like others, who generally want to proceed in a manner most aligned with their values, they want to seek attorneys who understand their needs and know not only U.S. law, but are competent in Islamic law. In her experience, she’d seen clients with disputes over unpaid mahr, oral agreements, and the like, with little precedent on the best way to proceed.

This is not an article on how enforceable contracts among Muslims should be in U.S. courts and what the jurisdictional implications are for Islamic public law in America, nor am I the first to articulate this. Rather, it’s a point on how thin calls for diverse legal representation and Muslim representation are if it does not go beyond being a particular type of face among the same types of faces. It is far deeper and urgent. There is an immediate need for Muslim professionals who can articulate the Islamic worldview in their research and work.

The above case is just one of many growing numbers of cases dealing with the intersection of Islam and U.S. law, but the number of legal practitioners who have a basic grounding and connection to the Islamic sciences, equipped to think about these issues a step further than the status quo, is fewer than desired. And conversely, it is not within the realm of work, nor is the faqih/mufti equipped to navigate U.S. legal realities. 

The disconnect between ‘secular law’ and ‘shari’a’ (though the distinction is not so discreet as we would think) is one of the enduring consequences of secularism. The systematic marginalization of Islamic legal principles in favor of Western legal frameworks has left a void in which Muslims are forced to compartmentalize their lives: ‘ibadat in one corner, everything else in another. Obviously, this is due to living in the U.S. in the first place (and on a higher level, the structure of nations/states). By residing in a non-Muslim jurisdiction, one implicitly and explicitly affirms certain obligations to its system. But this overlooks and oversimplifies, for example, the freedom to contract, which allows individuals to determine many terms of their relationships and transactions, provided they do not contradict public policy or statutory law. This creates some space, however imperfect, for communities to govern their affairs in alignment with their values, even within a secular system. For example, multiple scholars and writers have drawn comparisons between the American Jewish experience with beth dins – Jewish religious courts – and Islamic councils or tribunals.

This sort of interplay of religious and secular legal systems, therefore, has precedents, despite what bills attempting to ban ‘shari’a law’ would have one think. Critics – both within and outside the community – might argue that such a ‘coexistence’ is ultimately contradictory and makes Islamic principles subordinate. Yet the alternative is a community left to navigate a legal framework that often fails to account for their religious needs, leading to compromises that undermine both their legal rights and their spiritual commitments. 

This challenge must shift from theoretical discussions to actionable strategies. Muslim lawyers have a significant opportunity to collaborate with ‘ulema and other relevant experts, leveraging their knowledge of Islamic jurisprudence while refining their own expertise in legal research and practice. Even those engaged in civil rights, humanitarian law, and other legal fields remain deeply connected to Islamic principles and jurisprudence; their work is inseparable from questions of right and wrong, justice and ethics, with accountability shaped by the moral and legal foundations of shari’a. Muslim lawyers must recognize that what we do is not value-neutral, and the community must recognize and support the need for competent Muslim lawyers. Work devoid of an Islamic objective and actualization is a failure of purpose.

[Look out for Part II next week inshaAllah]

 

Related:

– Age of Consent in Classical Islamic Law

– Why Studying And Teaching Aqidah is Necessary for the Ulama And Students of Knowledge

1    105 Cal. Rptr. 2d 863, 88 Cal. App. 4th 398.

The post So You Want To Become A Lawyer? [Part I] – On Faith, Duty, And The Legal Profession appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Lawmaker for New Jersey threatens Dublin with investment losses.

Dear Struggling and Distressed Muslim,

This letter was meant for you. Yes, you specifically. The one who has been struggling and not understanding why it’s not working out. The one who has seen countless members of your family and friends “getting ahead” and sailing through this stage of life. The one whose suffering is not as visible or discussed in our communities, despite the pain striking and settling at the core of your heart, as you feel you have been left behind. This is regarding your pain from infertility and the struggle of not being able to have a child.

Know that you are not alone. There are millions across the world who are dealing with the same exact problem. But you have something that many do not: the Ultimate Supporter and Creator of the Universe is with you.

Infertility is not a sign of Allah’s Displeasure, but rather a test. As with every test, everyone advises patience; yet, sincerely practicing patience is difficult. It is, however, a choice and an action. How we actively practice patience will inshaAllah bring peace and blessings to our hearts and lives. While I cannot take away your pain and struggles, what I can offer is advice to remind you of some actions that can be taken to strengthen your relationship with Our Creator, and find ease through this difficult time. 

Advice #1: Elevate Your Du’a and Fully Trust Allah

Du’a is not simply asking from Allah . It’s the essence of worship and a way to rewrite our destiny. Du’a is, without a doubt, the most powerful tool we have at our disposal, but there are ways to make it more effective and meaningful. I will focus on these 3 points:

1. Etiquettes of Du’a
2. Focus on Forgiveness 
3. Practical Game Plan

The Etiquettes of Du’a

The first etiquette is regarding what we should say before we even start making dua to Allah . Specifically, praising Him and sending durood (peace and blessings) upon the Prophet . Sending durood on the Prophet is so powerful that even if we were to not ask anything and just spend our entire time sending durood on the Prophet , our worries would disappear and our sins would be forgiven. 

This isn’t to say we shouldn’t ask and make du’a for what we want, but it’s just a point of how many blessings there are in just sending peace and blessings on the Prophet . It could be that Allah appreciates so much that you send peace and blessings on the Prophet -the most beloved creation to Allah – instead of asking for your own needs, that He solves your problems and rewards you for it too. Do we really think that any problem in the world can withstand so many blessings coming from Allah ?

The second etiquette I want to mention is calling on Allah by His many blessed Names and Attributes. 

Specifically, some names that come to mind are:

• Al-Kareem and Al-Wahab – the One who is the Most Generous and Gives the best of gifts
• Al-Qadeer and Al-Azeez – there is absolutely no problem we can ever have that will be more powerful or unable to be solved by the Almighty and All-Powerful
• Al-Jabbar – the One who can mend your broken heart while you suffer through the pain

The third etiquette is to mention your weaknesses to Allah and never be disappointed in making du’a. When Zakaria made du’a to Allah for a child, he knew that his state of being old didn’t matter – the Lord of the Worlds could change anything and everything if He willed it. He went decades without children but remained optimistic.

Do not focus on what you can realistically do, but focus on what the Lord and Creator of the Worlds can do. Allah made the rules of the world we live in, including our own medical states, and He [wt] can do whatever He wills. 

The fourth etiquette is to have full trust in Allah’s Plan for you. This leads to consistency and surrendering yourself to Allah – you cannot lose hope. Even if you do not receive what you asked for, remember that Allah gave or will give you something equivalent or better; but it will be on Allah’s timeline, not ours. Our task is to be patient in making du’a. 

“Every one of you will have his supplications answered, as long as he is not impatient and he says: I have supplicated, but I was not answered.” [Bukhari and Muslim]

I’ve been guilty of this, where I make du’a and expect that my problem will be immediately solved. But du’a doesn’t always work like Amazon Prime. I personally know a couple who had multiple miscarriages, and it took almost 10 years for them to have their first child. We have to remember and trust that Allah knows and decides when the best time is for everything. He knows what is good for us and when it is good for us, and we do not. 

This is part of the perfection of our faith: to be content with what Allah has ordained after we have done everything we possibly can. This sentiment is perfectly encapsulated by the beautiful du’a of the righteous caliph Omar ibn Abdul Aziz : 

“O Allah, make me pleased with Your decree and bless me in Your providence, such that I would not like to hasten anything You delay, nor delay anything You hasten.”

The fifth and last etiquette I will mention is to take advantage of the times when du’a is accepted. These include:

• The last third of the night
• Between the adhan and iqaamah
• When it is raining
• When in sujud
• When traveling
• A fasting person as they break their fast

Focus on Forgiveness

We all fall short of our duty to Allah , and we all make mistakes. Even if we fulfill the obligations, did we fulfill them to a level that is befitting the Lord of the Universe? But, by the Mercy of Allah , He still may accept our broken actions. 

Allah created us so that we would turn back to Him after we slip. What’s also interesting is that asking forgiveness from Allah for those same mistakes is directly linked to certain blessings.

A man once came to al-Hasan al-Basri and complained to him: “The sky does not shower us with rain.” He replied: “Seek Allah’s forgiveness (i.e. say أستغفر ألله).”

Then another person came to him and said, “I complain of poverty.” He replied: “Seek Allah’s forgiveness.”

Then another person came to him and complained, “My wife is barren; she cannot bear children.” He replied: “Seek Allah’s forgiveness.”

The people who were present said to al-Hasan: “Every time a person came to you complaining, you instructed them to seek Allah’s forgiveness?”

Al-Hasan al-Basri said, “Have you not read the statement of Allah? ‘saying, ‘Seek your Lord’s forgiveness, ˹for˺ He is truly Most Forgiving. He will shower you with abundant rain, supply you with wealth and children, and give you gardens as well as rivers.’”[Surah Nuh:10-12]

So, given that asking for forgiveness is one of the best ways to have a child, what is one of the best ways to ask for forgiveness?

The Prophet taught us Sayyid al-Istighfar – the master du’a for forgiveness. I would highly recommend memorizing it and repeating it often.

Finally, an important part of seeking forgiveness is to leave the sins that we are knowingly committing. While we cannot eliminate every mistake, we can at least do our best to leave the things we know we are doing that are crossing the boundaries of Allah . 

Practical Game Plan

Now, what is a practical way to implement some of these etiquettes of du’a? Here is a game plan inspired by the dua of the mother of Imam Bukhari and of the legendary hero Salahuddin when he defended Jerusalem from the Crusaders. While you may not be able to do all of this, the goal is to try to do the best of your ability and at least do part of it. 

1. Wake up during the last 1/3 of the night, especially on Friday night, about 30-45 minutes before Fajr, and pray 2 rakaats and make a long dua during sajdah (remember that in the Islamic calendar, Friday night starts on Thursday after maghrib)
2. Go to the masjid, especially on Friday morning, right before fajr adhaan
3. Combine the intention to pray 2 rakaats sunnah of fajr, sunnah of entering masjid, and sunnah in between adhaan and iqaamah, and make dua during sajdah
4. Make dua right after fajr salah, after you’ve done the adhkaar after salah
5. Consistently repeat this at least once a week, if not daily

During your du’a, complain of your own poverty to Allah and how you have done everything you possibly can, but there is nothing else you can do. Keep knocking on Allah’s door, just like Imam Bukhari’s mother. Imam Bukhari was born almost blind, and his mother would spend her nights making du’a for her son’s eyesight to be restored.

For 2-3 years, she she didn’t lose hope or give up. Just kept knocking and asking for a medical miracle from Al-Shafi.

Then one night, she saw Prophet Ibrahim in a dream, who told her that because of her persistent du’a, her son’s eyesight had been restored. Imam Bukhari would go on to author the most authentic book ever written by man, leaving behind a legacy of scholarship that still endures over 1,000 years later. 

This is the power of du’a. Not because of what you can do. But because of what Allah can. 

There are many other things that can be done to elevate one’s du’a, but the crux of du’a is recognizing that Allah is in control and we need Him . When we show and verbalize our need to Allah and show that we are not self-sufficient but rather completely reliant on Him , we hope He will shower His Mercy and Bounties upon us. And just like anything in life, if we continue to do the same thing over and over again the exact same way, du’a can start feeling mundane and even empty, so I hope implementing some of these points can revitalize and reenergize our du’a again.

Advice #2: Internalize the Quran

The Quran was sent as a mercy to mankind and the way to expel darkness from our hearts and lives as we go through the trials of life. But when we only focus on reading it without reflection, especially as non-Arab speakers, we miss many subtleties and messages. 

Do these 2 things, and you will see how your perception of the Quran will change and how peace will enter your heart:

1. Make yourself the audience of the verses you are reading. Do not just read the story of Musa and think of it as a nice history lesson. Internalize the message as if the Quran is speaking to you and that the verses were revealed specifically for you. If there are verses about arrogance, ask yourself – am I arrogant? If there are verses about patience, ask yourself – am I patient? And so on and so forth.
2. Pay attention to the Names of Allah that are used in the verses. Allah is the Greatest Writer, and every word and Name He places is placed in a very specific location for a reason. Reflect on what the verse is saying to YOU and why that specific name of Allah is being used. 

Advice #3: Practice Gratitude

Often, when we are struggling with something difficult, patience is what is recommended. But the fact of the matter is, sincere patience requires something even before that: gratitude. 

Allah told us in the Quran:

˹Consider˺ when Moses said to his people, “Remember Allah’s favour upon you when He rescued you from the people of Pharaoh, who afflicted you with dreadful torment—slaughtering your sons and keeping your women. That was a severe test from your Lord.

And ˹remember˺ when your Lord proclaimed, ‘If you are grateful, I will certainly give you more. But if you are ungrateful, surely My punishment is severe.’” [Surah Ibrahim; 14:6-7]

The Bani Isra’eel, after being tested with hundreds of their babies being murdered by Firawn, are not being told to be patient. They are being advised to be grateful. Ponder this profound point. Why would Allah and Musa advise them on gratitude and remembering the blessings they have? Does not patience in this scenario make more sense?

The only way to practice sincere patience is to first appreciate all the blessings Allah has already given us. Only then will we find the strength to sincerely endure the hardships we are facing for the sake of Allah . 

And for those who think, “What blessings do I even have to be grateful for?”, consider these questions:

• Would we trade even one of our eyes for Elon Musk’s trillion-dollar pay package?
• Would we trade our warm beds for living in makeshift tents during the freezing, wet winter of Gaza while consistently being threatened by bombs and airstrikes? Or for a place in a Rohingya refugee camp?
• Would we trade the security of our lives for the constant violence, hunger, and humanitarian crises happening in Sudan and Lebanon? 
• Would we trade our freedom to practice our religion and beliefs for the religious and political persecution happening to Uyghurs in China or Muslims in Kashmir and India? 

None of this is to say that we don’t have problems or tests in life. But when we consider the enormous blessings Allah has bestowed upon us, we would not trade our problems for anyone else’s across the world. 

Furthermore, not having a child does not mean you don’t already have a loving, supportive spouse – do we appreciate him/her as we should? Or do we wonder if things would have been better if we had married someone we could have children with? If so, we are failing at understanding that while children can be a beautiful part of marriage, not having children does not mean a marriage is any less successful or less full of love. The Prophet loved Aisha more than anyone else, and their marriage serves as a role model for all of us. This is despite them not having any children together.

Another point that I want to mention is that if we are given children and one of them causes us to lose our faith, was that child really a blessing? This point is emphasized during the story of Musa and Khidr in Surah Al-Kahf. Khidr kills a child and later explains to Musa that Allah wanted to replace that child with another one for the parents, as the first child could have caused them to become kuffar and destroy their relationship with Allah . Who is to say that if we are given a child, that would not happen to us, and Allah is in fact protecting us from a greater evil?

The final point I will mention is that there will always be blessings given to others that we may never receive. At the same time, we have been given blessings in our lives that others can only dream of. This is by the decree of Allah . So our focus should be on the blessings we have and how we can maximize them in pursuit of pleasing Allah . 

As Prophet told us, “Know that whatever happens to you could never miss you, and whatever misses you could never reach you.” [al-Mu’jam al-Kabīr]

Advice #4: Increase in Good Deeds

Part of showing and practicing gratitude to Allah is to obey Him and fulfill the obligations He ordained on us. But, if you only fulfill the obligations, that alone will not necessarily get you special treatment from Allah . If you think about our careers – how do we get ahead? We have to work harder than our coworkers, contribute extra on projects, serve on committees, etc., to get promoted. Those who barely do their job, under fair circumstances, would not be the ones who would get promoted and benefit from a bump in salary, benefits, perks, etc. 

In a hadith qudsi, Allah said:

“Whosoever shows enmity to someone devoted to Me, I shall be at war with him. My servant draws not near to Me with anything more loved by Me than the religious duties I have enjoined upon him, and My servant continues to draw near to Me with supererogatory works so that I shall love him. When I love him, I am his hearing with which he hears, his seeing with which he sees, his hand with which he strikes, and his foot with which he walks. Were he to ask [something] of Me, I would surely give it to him, and were he to ask Me for refuge, I would surely grant it to him. I do not hesitate about anything as much as I hesitate about [seizing] the soul of My faithful servant: he hates death, and I hate hurting him.” [Bukhari]

There are so many good deeds that can be discussed, including qiyam al-layl (which is the best prayer after the fardh salah), dhuha salah, various adhkaar, praying in the masjid, fasting, etc., but the one I want to emphasize is sadaqah. It’s an absolutely amazing, widely encompassing, and easy deed if we have the right mindset. Moreover, in the current state of the world where everyone is talking about investing and making money, the fact of the matter is, whatever money we spend in charity is our real investment because that is what we will see on our scale of good deeds in the Hereafter.

“Envy consumes good deeds just as fire burns wood. Charity extinguishes sinful deeds just as water extinguishes fire. Prayer is the light of the believer, and fasting is his shield from the Hellfire.” [Ibn Majah]

Advice #5: Seek Professional Help

The problem with this step is that we often either prioritize this step over fixing our relationship with Allah , or neglect this step completely. Take advice from qualified medical professionals, talk with your family and elders, pray istikharah, and make a decision regarding next steps in your journey. We will never know what will or will not work unless we try, but we should be informed about the risks and benefits of each avenue available to us so we can make an educated decision.

I would also mention that infertility can come with a whole set of emotions, including depression, anger, despair, hopelessness, etc., so a qualified therapist, especially one with an Islamic background, could be beneficial in understanding how to process and manage our emotional state from both an Islamic and psychological perspective. I have included a list of resources for mental health at the end of this letter.

A man said, “O Messenger of Allah! Shall I tie it and rely (upon Allah), or leave it loose and rely (upon Allah)?” The Prophet SAWS said: “Tie it and rely (upon Allah).” [Tirmidhi]

Final Thoughts

The Prophet frequently made a du’a asking Allah to make him firm in his religion.

It’s so hard to be consistent, and it’s even harder at times to be consistent and trusting when you don’t have physical proof in your hand of what you’re aiming for. There’s a reason why Muslims are called believers – one of them is that we believe in the Unseen. And can you imagine that the greatest of all creation, the Prophet , is making du’a to be steadfast on Islam? It’s surreal to me because he had the Quran revealed to him by Jibreel . But while we’ll never have the same level of iman as the Prophet , that doesn’t mean we don’t try. It’s up to us to remember that Allah is writing our story in the best way possible. 

Don’t be displeased with Allah . You are where you are, and I am where I am, and every person is where they are exactly as the Greatest Story Writer has written. While we don’t know how things will go in the future, our job is just to do our best with what we know now. And part of this journey for you involves your family, so encourage them to do the things you all find beneficial – inshaAllah you all will grow closer together as you continue to support each other.

At the end of the day, it very well could be you’re never gifted a child. That doesn’t mean that all your efforts and du’as went to waste. We don’t know what Allah protected us from and what reward Allah has prepared for us in the Hereafter. 

I want to end with this advice a friend pnce gave to me:

“One of Allah’s Mercies towards you is that He continually creates needs for you to Him. Whenever He fulfills one of your needs, He creates another for you, so that you do not become detached from Him. Indeed, souls are inclined to detach from those they feel self-sufficient without.  Whoever becomes self-sufficient from Allah and detaches from Him will perish. Therefore, some scholars have said: ‘that Allah creates needs for you so that your servitude to Him may grow.’”

May Allah always guide and bless our families and us to what is best for us in this life and the next, relieve our struggles, anxieties, and fears, and always keep us hopeful in His Mercy and Plan. 

 

List of Mental Health Resources:

• Muslim therapists in various localities in the USA: https://www.mapsnetwork.org/ 
• For a local Muslim mental health professional: Please take a look at the resources here to find a local Muslim therapist: 
  • https://muslimpsychologycenter.com/directories/
  • https://muslimmentalhealth.com/getsupport/
  • https://www.muslimtherapist.directory/
• If you are looking for assistance regarding spiritually-related concerns: Please consider Khalil Center: https://khalilcenter.com/. They are able to provide many psychospiritual resources, including therapy and religious consultations.
• For general options: Please try www.psychologytoday.com. This website can narrow searches down by religion, therapy type, insurance, and zip code.

The post On Infertility And Not Having A Child: A Letter To Couples Going Through The Silent Struggle appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Sun’s out, and while some people are ready for (halal) pool parties, some of us just want to pick up a good book or ten. And with Muharram having just begun, it’s important for us not to get caught up in the ghaflah (heedlessness) of summer holidays and to maintain a sense of intentionality in how we spend our time off.

As always, the MuslimMatters Bookshelf has you covered! No need to hunt around for interesting books when we’ve got a list ready to go right here.

A Beautiful Patience by Samaiyah Mushtaq [Non-Fiction]

Dr. Samaiya Mushtaq writes about her husband, Dr. Mahmoud Sabha, and his journey into Gaza on medical mission – not just once, but twice. But this book isn’t just about him, or about what he witnessed in Gaza; it’s also about her own raw experience being the wife who stayed home with two young children, who wrestled with her own emotions… with guilt, fear, shame, anxiety, and more.

This unique memoir is so beautifully written that I was on the verge of tears almost every time I opened it. The author touches on her own background, her first marriage and divorce, her second – happy – marriage, motherhood and post-partum… and how all the blessings in her life competed with her husband’s decision to serve the people of Gaza.

There’s so much I want to say about the book, but really there’s nothing more to be said other than that everyone should read it immediately. It’s a book for us all – not the heroes of Gaza, but those of us left behind, those of us who open our newsfeeds every day to read about massacres upon massacres and then swipe to pictures of restaurant meals and think about buying a sweet treat on our next outing and then wonder what we’re doing for Palestine.

Dr. Samaiya’s vulnerability and honesty pulls the reader in, holds up a mirror to our own selves, and then shines a light on how – even as we grapple with our guilty consciences – the people of Gaza and the medical heroes of Gaza push through daily horrors with a quiet strength and beautiful patience that comes from complete and utter trust in Allah alone.

This book is truly incredible, especially as more and more news from Gaza is throttled by the zyeo entity and the genocide escalates daily. It is a primer on sabr and tawakkul, and challenging ourselves in our positions of privilege.

Hope and Despair: My Struggle to Free My Husband by Monia Mazigh [Non-Fiction]

Most young Canadians today don’t recognize the name of Maher Arar, but as part of the 9/11 generation, I grew up reading the news about Arar’s illegal abduction by the FBI and his deportation to and torturing in Syria at the behest of the RCMP.

Hope & Despair was written by Arar’s wife, Monia Mazigh, whose unyielding pursuit of justice for her husband is what finally resulted in his release – and the exposure of the Canadian government’s responsibility in the entire affair.

While this book is about Monia and what she experienced from the day of her husband’s disappearance, to the day that a public inquiry finally vindicated him, this book serves as a stark reminder of the reality we live in: our governments are corrupt to the core, intelligence and security agencies are evil in their very essence, and both have no inclination to change their ways.

Yet rather than languish in silence, it is our responsibility to do as Monia did: to never give up, to pursue justice, to fight against the powers that be, no matter the discomfort or risks it carries. Given that the Canadian government continues to target Muslims, this book is necessary reading for us all – that we too do not give into learned helplessness, but know that Allah does not help a people until they help themselves.
It’s also a reminder that anyone who blindly trusts in the government as an agency of truth or justice is an absolute idiot.

That’s not to say that there aren’t occasionally good people out there. Mazigh writes of individuals who listened to her, who campaigned with her, who did their best to subvert the machinations of injustice from within. Allah brings forth help from where we do not expect… but we must demonstrate our own commitment first and foremost.

The Arar case isn’t just an aberration in the fading annals of Canadian history. It is just the tip of the iceberg of the Canadian government’s entrenched Islamophobia, and just a glimpse of what they have done and continue to do to Muslims across the country.

Some Justice: A Ghazi Ammar Medieval Mystery by Laury Silvers [Adult Historical Fiction]

Laury Silvers’ medieval Muslim mystery novels are a force of creativity and thoughtfulness that make the reader overlook the lack of professional editing and the rough-around-the-edges craft.

This newest book, the first of a new series connected to her original series (The Sufi Mysteries), follows former Ghazi Ammar at-Tabbani as he tries to solve the first big case to come to his investigation agency… a case that seems doomed from the very beginning. Zaytuna, the original heroine of the original series, has her own mystery to solve, of course – one that will teach her yet another lesson in trusting God. Ammar has his own lessons to learn, and readers will be enthralled by the introduction to medieval Baghdad’s more unsavory elements.

Note: This book explores very heavy, very dark themes of suicide (and worse), and is absolutely a very adult murder mystery.

The Ocean Would Paint Me Blue by Zoulfa Katouh [Young Adult Fiction]

The author of the legendary “As Long As The Lemon Trees Grow” is back with a new novel! This one is solidly young adult, and definitely targeted at Muslim teen girls.

Jihad is a Syrian American Muslim girl, whose grief over her mother’s death has leached away her ability to see the world in colour. When she’s enrolled at a bougie private school to improve her chances of getting into an exclusive arts university, Jihad has to contend with elitism, Islamophobia, and a sketchbook with the mysterious power to magically paint her murals across the city.

In all honesty, this is in many ways a Muslim teen girl fantasy: from Jihad’s unique talents as an artist to the smart, attractive teen boy who’s interested in Islam and becomes Jihad’s loyal friend/ protector, there’s a lot of angst and just-under-the-surface romance (nothing explicitly haram, as there’s a lot of care to avoid this, but there is a fair bit of Jihad and Jamie talking alone together). This is also a magical realism book, which might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I know my teenage self would have been all over this book! Fans of SK Ali’s Misfits series will adore this book as well.

Amina Banana and the Formula for Fairness by Shifa Saltagi Safadi [Chapter Book]

The Amina Banana series never fails to serve up an excellent story that’ll keep kids hooked!

In book 4, Amina is struggling with how unfair life can be, AND with the school science fair. As always, the author manages to weave together a rich, layered story that covers themes that all kids will relate to: unfairness, jealousy, making some (big) mistakes… but also faith, forgiveness, and understanding.

I ADORE that there’s a scene where Amina wakes up to her grandmother praying tahajjud, proving once again that it is absolutely possible to include powerful Islamic representation in a kids’ story in a way that is organic and adds to the story without being preachy or annoying. There’s also a science activity included, as well as a recipe, and an explanation of the Islamic lunar calendar!

The Amina Banana series needs to be a staple for all chapter book readers – filled with heart, STEM, and most importantly, Islamic values that are never compromised.

Papa and the Missing Something by Shieda Majeed

“Papa and the Missing Something” by Shieda Majeed is a unique, incredibly sweet story about a man whose life is perfect… almost. Something inside him is missing, and he’s not quite sure what it is. This adorably illustrated picture book follows Papa and his family as they search for the “missing something.”

This is the first time I’ve ever come across a kid’s book specifically about parents coming to Islam, and this book is beautifully done! I did find it a titch long, but it should keep the attention of kids 7+ for sure. This is such a beautiful concept to see in Muslim kidlit, and it’s wonderful to see the spectrum of authentic Muslim representation mashaAllah.

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What books have you added to your summer reading list?

Related:

From The MuslimMatters Bookshelf: Summer Reads For All Ages

From The MuslimMatters Bookshelf: Your Go-To Summer Reading List

The post From The MuslimMatters Bookshelf: Your Summer 2026 TBR appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

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