Standing Alone (39 page)

       
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

       
We are not now that strength which in old days

       
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are

       
One equal temper of heroic hearts,

       
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

       
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

For a long time I believed that Muslim society was filled with hypocrisy. This may be true to some extent, but what I've since come to believe is that what seems like hypocrisy is actually contradiction. The actions of many Muslims seem to contradict their belief system. What I see is that they are actually in conflict with their cultural programming.

I have often stood physically alone in my life as a Muslim woman. But I have stood spiritually together with an ummah of honorable Muslim women, men, boys, and girls who, like my family, are trying to use Islam as a guide to living their days on this earth with love, honor, and respect toward others.

They are the silent moderate majority whose voices are so often lost in the thunderous assault of the hatred and violence perpetuated by certain Muslims in the name of Islam. They reached out to me as I walked on this unscripted path fulfilling my Qur'anic injunction to testify to the truths of injustice. These brave Muslims are my kin. And they did not abandon me or leave me alone in the parched desert. They stood by me, and they deserve the blessings that come with welcoming a person into the fold of Islam. With the love and understanding they expressed toward my son
and me, they became for me the human expression of Islam's teachings of tolerance, compassion, and kindness.

I was blessed to be touched too by a wider global community of men and women who enact the universal principles of love and tolerance as the teachings of their churches, synagogues, temples, monasteries, and homes. They are a group of intelligent critical thinkers who do not judge the religion of Islam for the injustice, bigotry, and prejudice that have swept through it and who acknowledge that all of the world's religions and civilizations have been subject to these repressive forces. They separate the human dimension from the theological, and in reminding me that we are intertwined in our hopes, dreams, and visions, they have encouraged me.

Those who want to separate and divide the global community with hate find a twisted sense of belonging by abandoning the basic moral values of decency, respect, and kindness. I could fill these pages with the words of correspondents who have scolded, berated, and admonished me. Instead, I have chosen to share with you the voices that, it is my prayer, will gain ever more strength in this world.

Asra,

I was forwarded your police incident report which you and your father filed after the mistreatment at the mosque.

I was very shocked and angered at how both you and your father (long time members of the community) were treated after attending the mosque.

However, I was also not surprised. Just remember that ignorant people hold on to power the only way they can—through threats, violence and bullying. May Allah bless you and your father for standing up to the tyrants who hold onto the mosque as a place for themselves only. The only way they get away with it is because we let them. By taking a stand you and your father are not letting them get away with it any longer.

Just remember, they (your oppressors) do it out of fear and not out of what is right and just. From what I read, you handled it very well.

Please take care of yourself. I send this virtual hug to you to let you know that you are supported.

Dear Asra,

I am an architect working for a major pharmaceutical firm besides having my own independent but modest practice, mostly designing homes coupled with other miscellaneous projects. Like your father, I am also from Hyderabad and I expect I have much in common with him. I commend him for bringing up such a daughter as you and for the moral support and understanding he must be providing you. I am sure your mother must have also played a role in it. I am married to a wonderful lady, Fawzia. We have three very nice children, Faiz, Faraz and Farah.

I had suspected that you named your son Shibli for him to get inspiration from his ancestor, the great Urdu poet and author Maulana Shibli Nomani. I happened to read one of his books
Iblees ka Khutba-e-Sadarat
which is full of very refined humor and of high literary value. He was a person of great intellect and far ahead of his time.

Your fighting spirit and zeal must be applauded and what you have embarked upon is a great task—to get rid of the many ills our community is suffering from. It will take a great effort and energy and perseverance. You will also have to be very articulate. “
Samp mare aur lathi bhi na totae
.” “Destroy a snake, but don't break the stick.”

I think we have found in you a person with the right qualities to lead us out of the darkness that prevails around us, into enlightenment. I also hope that your son grows into a man of integrity and courage and carries the torch you have lighted to far distances, inspired by you and Maulana Shibli Nomani. I wish you good luck.

I'm an Arabic gay who lives in an Arabic country but will go back to the UK soon. Tell me how can I be a pro-gay Muslim? Tell me how can I live my sexual life in a good way, but at the same time be a devoted Muslim.

Thanks.

I read your writings.

I think you're among the group of people who want the real Islam to return back, and I am supporting u and those people and praying that Allah is supporting u too.

Thank you.

Of course, my parents know nothing about my sexual identity, cause I'll face death if they know, unless, of course, I was in the UK.

Asra, this morning I read your article in the
Washington Post
before I went to Mass. I was struck with number one, your bravery and next the solidarity that we share.

As I worshipped this morning, I put myself in your shoes and wondered how I would react if women could not worship along with the men and children in my church. It didn't take long for me to realize that years ago, I would have been like many of the women of your faith and culture . . . but then, the peace of passivity would have been slowly eroded and in its place, frustration, anger and the continual questions of “Why”???

As a woman of 56 years, I am now coming into a place in my faith that requires courage and speaking out. Like Islam, Catholicism has been strongly influenced by the traditionalists and conservatives who want to “go back” to a time before Vatican II when we were so strict and inflexible . . . closed to other people of faith. In the 60's a courageous man, Pope John XXIII said, “Let us open the windows of the church and let the fresh air in.” Many of us believe this was the Holy Spirit working through him. Now there is a movement within the church to destroy all that Vatican II achieved.

In May of this year, I went to Morocco with a few friends. At first, I felt so out of place and uncomfortable, but very soon, I realized that the Moroccan people had big hearts and lived their faith daily. Often I heard the word, “
Inshallah
,” and felt it resonate in my heart especially after learning it's meaning.

Asra, you are truly a woman of God, and I believe that He is inspiring you to work to free the restrictions of women in Islam, and I feel that your work will inspire courage in women of every faith to speak out. I see that all the major religions of the world are experiencing the “push” of conservatism in hopes of going back or, better yet, preventing the forthcoming freedoms that God has for all His people.

From: Sarah Arif

Date: Friday, September 17, 2004 12:02 AM
Subject: Hats off to you.

Dear Asra,

This term of endearment comes natural here. I am proud of what you have accomplished and the courage you have shown in standing up for women's rights in Masjids.

My name is Sarah Sunita Arif, born in Hyderabad, India to a Brahmin family in the early 60s. . . . You can imagine the challenges, when I ran away from home to marry a Muslim boy when I barely turned 18 in the late 70s. . . . I accepted Islam with all my heart, although my motives could have been questioned at the time of my marriage.

Coming from a lineage of highly educated professors and doctors, I had a hard time with women being treated as second class citizens in Masjids. I have lived in Wichita Kansas since 1978 and yet to see a Masjid which will allow women to say their prayers along with men.

Some of us are planning to build a place of worship and a community center which will allow men and women praying side by side. I am hoping to gather moderate Muslims to join us in this task.

I wanted to thank you for showing me courage to join this group. I was a little hesitant till I read your stand on this issue. Hats off to you and my head is bowed!

Keep up the great work!

Dear Ms. Nomani,

Heard you on NPR this morning and read your homepage. You are a role model for women and men of all cultures. Please continue your struggle for equity as we all benefit from your courage, thoughts and actions.

       
So many years all spent alone

       
Seeking a voice of my own

I am indebted to so many people for giving me the courage to find the voice that was my own. There is one moment that captures the importance of the simple acts of encouragement we can give each other.

It was the spring of 2004, and I was meeting a woman who was a pioneer in the American Muslim world. I wheeled Shibli in his stroller through the doors of the Ritz-Carlton in Tysons Corner, Virginia, to meet Sharifa Alkhateeb, a community activist born in Philadelphia to a Yemeni father and a Czech mother. I had first crossed paths with her after I broke the gender barrier at my mosque in Morgantown. Mrs. Alkhateeb was a well-respected Muslim community leader, and she didn't have to embrace a woman like me, dubbed radical by so many. But she did, quite literally, in the lobby of the Ritz. Together, we pushed Shibli in his stroller through the mall that adjoins the hotel. On our stroll, she offered me compassionate support. I was confiding in her the plan for a march on the mosque in Morgantown to affirm women's rights in the Muslim world. She offered encouragement and strategic guidance. “It is important what you are doing,” she said, offering a blessing that gave me strength. The mother of three daughters, she died in October 2004 at the age of fifty-eight from pancreatic cancer. She will go down in history as an inspiration to American Muslim women like me to raise our voices. And I thank her and so many countless friends, colleagues, scholars, and readers who have given me encouragement to speak with a voice of my own.

For creating not only a book but also a vision, I am greatly appreciative of my publisher, Mark Tauber, and editor, Eric Brandt, at Harper San Francisco. They are grounded and yet visionary. For her tireless dedication
to the spirit of my message, I am grateful to Miki Terasawa. I am thankful to Claudia Boutote for her enthusiasm. For their creativity and hard work, I am grateful to Terri Leonard, Kris Ashley, Jim Warner, Lisa Zuniga, Cindy Buck, and all of the dedicated staff at Harper San Francisco and Harper Collins Publishers. All of us have something important to say, it is true, and I am grateful to Kris Dahl, my literary agent at International Creative Management, for helping to make me blessed enough to share my thoughts with you, the reader. I also thank Liz Farrell and Carol Bruckner at ICM. And I am indebted to the work done by Jud Laghi, Mary Gollhofer, and Jonathan Baker behind the scenes.

My family and friends have generously shared with me countless hours of their commitment to the mission and vision. I thank my mother, Sajida Nomani, for her critical thinking, good sense, and important care of my son and me. I thank my father, Zafar Nomani, for his role in arranging our pilgrimage, his conscientious editing of my work, and his constant love. And I thank my brother, Mustafa Nomani, for his wise guidance and constant support. I am in awe of my friends Lynn Hoverman, Pam Norick, Ellyce Johnson, Vasia Deliyianni, and Rachel Kessler, who have helped me beyond the call of friendship. I am grateful to Mariane Pearl for her vision of my mission. For helping to bring my voice from a whisper to a roar, I am grateful to my coach, Ed Jacobs. This book and I were transformed because of his gentle coaxing and encouragement.

I thank Ron Shafer and Ken Wells, my former editors at the
Wall Street Journal
, and my countless friends from the
Wall Street Journal
for their friendship and guidance. I am indebted to Mohja Kahf, Patricia Dunn, Ahmed Nassef, Kecia Ali, Amy Leigh, and Alan Godlas for their editing. I have deep appreciation for the Islamic Society of North America and for ZamZam Tours and their guides for their attention to the details of my pilgrimage to Mecca. I am grateful to my local mosque in Morgantown and my local Muslim community for giving me the challenges that allowed me to grow. I thank the people and leaders of West Virginia, West Virginia University, and Morgantown, West Virginia, for their kind support, from Morgantown mayor Ron Justice to extraordinary citizens Sue Amos, Jim Friedberg, and Nellie Williams. For their prompt and courteous assistance, I thank the staff at the UPS Store, Office Depot, Superior Photo, and the West Virginia University Copy Center. And for a constant stream of coffee and a quiet corner without wireless Internet connection, I appreciate Mary Lewis and the kind wait staff at my local Morgantown diner, Eat 'n Park.

May all be as blessed as they have blessed me.