Tag: Islam

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Arts

Intricacies of a morally-conflicted mind

Brotherhood showcases the struggling humanity of a war-torn family

There’s a lot that could be said about Concordia Alumna Meryam Joobeur’s Brotherhood. The short film was nominated for an Oscar in the live-action short-film category. In its simplicity, the film showcases the deep disturbance and shifting family dynamics caused by the emergence of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS).

Centred around a distrusting and hardened father, Mohamed, the 25-minute short follows the story of his moral conflict upon the arrival of his eldest son, Malik, who had left to fight in Syria with ISIS. Malik returned a year later with a very young and pregnant wife, clad in a niqab— forcing the father into a deeper conflict within himself.

There are a couple of things about the North-African and Middle-Eastern cultures that are important to know. Family is a founding value in this culture; a father’s responsibility towards his family is heavy and permanent. This responsibility is emphasized in the dialogue between Mohamed and his wife, Salha, where he says “I have slaved away my life for these boys.”

Salha, the boy’s mother and Mohamed’s wife, is mostly passively present; not so much taking part in the moral conflict that is set throughout the whole story. In a way, it’s reflective of the passive role of mothers in dealing with life-changing decisions. Although her role is not active, her presence certainly is; she welcomes Malik back without a second thought, expressing “as long as he’s alive, I’ll stand by him and defend him.” There’s a word in Arabic that perfectly embodies what a mother represents: hanan. It means tenderness. A mother’s love is never distrusting, always loyal to her children, and never-fading.

Watching this film was like reading a book—there was a lot left for imagination, for your own understanding. Nothing is said explicitly, nothing is forced upon you. There are a myriad of ways to interpret the struggles of Mohamed’s family. The underlying pressures of societal family values combined with this family’s faith and morality are all challenged when Malik left for ISIS. As an Arab, I think of what must have been going through Mohamed’s mind when Malik returned: he is my son, but he brought shame upon us. He is my son, but he joined an immoral killing machine. He is my son, but he impregnated a child. 

Mohamed’s inner struggle to accept the moral wrongs of his son is the core of Joobeur’s short. There’s a never-ending battle between unconditional love for his flesh-and-bone and loyalty to his moral grounds, and what he believes his religion, also his son’s, actually stands for.

The film is raw, and not very easy to watch. The very opening scene sees Mohamed and his middle-child, Chaker, looking at a flock of sheep that had been attacked by a wolf—a sheep was bleeding profusely, and the father and son went to kill it. The togetherness of this act strengthens father-and-son narrative, while also highlighting the contrast between the two characters—the father as a hardened man, and the son, sensitive and hesitant to kill. This contrasts directly the idea of Malik killing with ISIS— something Mohamed accused him of in one of the scenes, even though Malik said he never killed anyone.

The soundtrack consisted of wild sounds, setting a rural and haunting environment for viewers, forcing them to listen to the tension that is almost palpable on screen. In a scene where Malik takes his two younger brothers to the beach, a moment of confession ensues: “I regret going to Syria,” Malik told Chaker. “Promise me you will never go.”

It’s reflective of how misconceptions and false propaganda hurts people. 

In parallel to Malik’s confession, Mohamed makes a call. An argument between him and Salha leads Malik’s young wife, Reem, to confess that the baby was not his—she was forced to “marry” many fighters. In other words, she was raped by ISIS terrorists and got pregnant, and Malik, while running away, chose to help her even though he knew it would only make things worse with his father. That call was to authorities to take Malik away, a deed Mohamed instantly regretted as he ran towards his sons at the beach, calling for Malik in breathless shouts—only to realize it was too late.

Something that stood out to me was the portrayal of different facets of Islam: Joobeur sets a clear and hard line between the supposed “Islam” of ISIS, and that of a normal, rural family. The Arabic language has a different name for ISIS that recognizes their work isn’t that of Islam—something that Western languages never did. It’s called Daesh. There is no mention of the religion of Islam in this title. This is significant for a simple reason: a name reflects the identity of what it is that you’re introducing, dubbing a terrorist group as an Islamic state automatically associates Islam to terrorism. No matter how many times someone can say “this is not representative of Islam,” there’s no way the stain of that title can ever be removed.

Brotherhood, in asserting the difference between the Tunisian-Muslim family and ISIS, very subtly says that ISIS is not Islam. I’ve read great reviews of the film, but none of them recognized this—most of them related the strain between Mohamed and Malik to the latter leaving family responsibilities, and none highlighted the fact that he left to join a terrorist group, and that was the source of Mohamed’s moral conflict.

ISIS shook the Middle-East and North-Africa. It shook the world of Islam and only fed Islamophobia further, it justified the West’s pre-existent bias and discrimination. Brotherhood depicts how torn families suffered the aftermath of such a phenomenon in the rawest and most simplistic way—strictly humanized, embellished in nature, and thriving in moral conflict.

 Brotherhood can be watched online, on vimeo.com.

 

 

 

Collage by Laurence Brisson Dubreuil.

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Opinions

Innate Islamophobia is Everywhere

The portrayal of Islam in movies and on TV is, to say the least, tricky.

Spanish hit-series Élite was the first time I saw Muslims on western TV that weren’t al Qaeda or some terrorist trying to bomb a train. At first, it was a breath of fresh air to see the character of Nadia as just another student. Until she goes into the principal’s office and they tell her that in order for her to stay enrolled in the school, she had to remove her hijab. (Remind you of anything… kinda rhymes with Pill Quincy One?).

The new season also showed Nadia without her hijab, and with a new makeover meant to impress her crush. A lot of people were outraged by that, and rightfully so. One, it does imply that she’s not beautiful enough with her hijab to be impressive, and two, there is an underlying theme of oppression and suppression connected with the hijab. It’s as if the headscarf is a metaphor for the ‘tyranny’ that is Islam. As if to say, “take the scarf off, you’re removing the metaphorical veil of oppression and, voila! You’re free.”

Let me ask you something, do you remember Billie Eilish’s campaign with Calvin Klein, where she said the reason she wears baggy clothes is so no one can tell what’s under, and thus not objectify her? My god, people just wouldn’t stop praising her for this amazing and wonderful stance that inspired millions of women! It was seen as a fight against the patriarchy.

Well, you’re all a bunch of hypocrites and are absolutely incapable of moving past built-in bias. No, seriously, people don’t have the ability to emotionally and mentally transcend Islamophobic bias set by years of unfair portrayal, and see it for what it actually is. The point of the Hijab is humility, and exactly what Eilish said. The problem didn’t start, nor will it end, with Nadia in Élite. The problem is you. It’s all of us, really.

Look inside you, people. Have you ever caught yourself looking pitifully at a woman in a niqab? That’s problematic. Looking at headscarves at the same level we do a woman or child with bruises over their bodies is fundamentally wrong, and although your intentions might be good, your lack of understanding that it is most likely a choice hurts more than helps.

Yes, in places like Saudi Arabia and Iran, women are forced to cover up. And yes, I’m against that, but that’s a cultural thing and not a religious one. The Quran gives general intrusctions, and the Hadith, the sayings and actions of the prophet Muhammad, gives details. It’s important to remember that what was written then doesn’t need to have the same interpretation today. Most muslim women choose to wear the hijab. Most muslim women want to cover up. I know at least three women who put the hijab on at a young age, and then decided to remove it. MY MOTHER REMOVED HER HIJAB AT ONE POINT. Granted, she put it on at 11-years-old and removed it about a month later, but the point remains that it is a choice; it’s a worldly representation of your Faith.

The word Islam literally means surrender, and letting go of worldly vanities is a step into surrender; like monks living in Kathmandu, or Sufis wandering and letting go of physical possessions. It’s meant to be a physical representation of what your priorities are: my appearance doesn’t matter as much as my intentions; ‘I will cover the outside so you can get to know me on the inside first.’

Some Middle Eastern cultures have let an innate patriarchy warrant a rather patriarchal interpretation of Islam. There’s an entire conversation that should happen about Islam being “anti-feminist,” because this is truthfully an atrocious lie.

There is a difference between religion and culture disguised under religious pretenses. The way Nadia was portrayed in Élite is just an example of how the media doesn’t distinguish between these two things. It’s time we learn to differentiate, and realize that what TV teaches you isn’t always what’s real – unrealistic beauty standards? Unrealistic portrayal of the hijab. It goes both ways.

 

Graphic by @sundaeghost

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Opinions

The presence of xenophobia in Canada

Graphic by Thom Bell

CBC’s Radio-Canada’s new poll shows that Canadians aren’t as accepting as they seem

In February, a poll done by CBC’s Radio-Canada asked Canadians about their stance on a series of issues, specifically about populism and xenophobia. The results revealed that our so-called far and wide land that is “free” is not as hospitable as one may think.

Out of 2,513 Canadians surveyed for this poll—1,024 of whom were from Quebec—74 per cent of respondents answered they would “very” or “somewhat” welcome the act of screening immigrants on their values to determine if they coincide with those of Canadians.

Sixty per cent of Canadians believe refugees are great additions to our society, and 83 per cent feel they enhance our cultural diversity. However, when asked again if Canadians would be open to enforcing a Muslim ban, a quarter of them answered they would “strongly” or “somewhat” accept such a motion.

Is this really shocking? No, it shouldn’t be. Realistically speaking, as much as we would like to deny these discomforting revelations and promote that we are the overly-polite nation that accepts everyone, it’s time to face reality. Canadians are scared, Canadians are judgemental and Canadians, just like everyone else, are easily influenced. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that Canada is very much reflecting xenophobic characteristics when those characteristics are so prominent in today’s news.

In another survey done by the Angus Reid Institute (ARI) in 2014, Quebec’s results were just as negative. The survey, conducted with the help of The Province, a branch of the Postmedia Network, the Laurier Institution and the Canadian Race Relations Foundation, asked Canadians about their views on radicalization and homegrown terrorism. When it came to questions about whether people were supportive of religious symbols or religious clothing in public, Quebec scored the lowest for all Muslim symbols, such as the niqab and the hijab. The crucifix was the most accepted symbol, nationally.

It’s only human nature these views seep into our consciousness. We absorb what we are surrounded by. We live in a world saturated with overly-dramatic and mostly-negative media and we are instinctively accustomed to form likes and dislikes through personal experiences with particular people. We are drawn to what is familiar rather than unknown. Hence, our biases and escalated fear.

Take, for example, the rise of hate crimes in Canada. According to Mélanie Lajoie, Montreal police spokesperson, in Montreal alone, 81 hate crimes were reported in 2013, 89 in 2014, 112 in 2015, and we closed off 2016 with 137. Furthermore, entering the new year, 14 hate crimes were reported just after the Quebec City mosque shooting, already a 10th of last year’s total.

Sadly, even our nation’s leaders seem to be in the same boat. Racing to become the next leader of the Conservative Party, exhibiting Trump-like qualities, Kellie Leitch has proposed a method of screening newcomers to Canada, in order to make sure foreigners’ values reflect those of Canadians. On her campaign’s website are the values: equal opportunity, hard work, helping others, generosity, freedom and tolerance.

Insinuating these values only belong to Canada, and not to other nations, is insulting. Leitch, as well as her long-lost twin, Trump, seem to have a strategized method of targeting minorities, particularly Muslims, who are already marginalized and feared for no reason. They instill fear and anger into their supporters. Knowing that people’s emotions are sometimes stronger than common sense, the tactic works, and an increase in xenophobia ensues.

Does this mean we’re doomed? Not at all. Luckily, these sentiments can change, and it is up to us to educate ourselves and challenge in how we see and treat different cultures, religions and ethnicities. We can then feel confident in being known as a country for its inclusiveness, hospitable nature and multiculturalism. When we surround ourselves with different types of people, experiences and environments, we not only develop tolerance, but we develop further knowledge of the world as a whole.

It is not too late for Canadians to take a step in the right direction, and to learn, most importantly, to live with one another and appreciate our differences.

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Student Life

My religion: My Muslim faith

Warraich and his siblings as children. From left to right, Ahmed, Qasim, Fatima and Mohammed.

One Concordian’s honest portrait of what his faith means to him

As a Canadian-born Muslim, I’ve learned to live and grow in this country during one of the most trying times for Muslims around the world. Faith seriously entered my life when I was eight years old. My father had just been diagnosed with lymphoma and leukaemia, and his situation was quite dire.

We had been a relatively religious family up until this point, going to the mosque most Fridays and spending time within the Muslim community. However, my father’s sickness deepened our faith. We heavily relied on God and on our knowledge of the Islamic faith to get through that hard time.

Warraich’s father and brother

At the worst point of his sickness, it seemed not much more could be done, so my father planned a visit to the holy city of Mecca. There, he performed the Islamic hajj pilgrimage—a must for any Muslim before they die. After his pilgrimage, my father had a miraculous recovery, which further solidified his faith, and our family’s faith.

Religion is all around us. For thousands of years, it has been a driving force behind civilizations and understanding societies and the people who fill this planet. Sadly, it has also been the cause of many acts of war, genocide and persecution—whether it is a group of people using religion as a front to further their own political motives and agendas, or a group being persecuted for following a particular religion.

It seems to me that, these days, people increasingly dislike the concept of religion. Many cite it as outdated and the cause of the barbaric acts of violence we have all seen throughout the world.

I have found it difficult to refute these ideas in discussions with nonreligious or atheist people. Many who don’t practice any religion know very little about religion. As such, I believe when people see images and videos of people carrying out acts of violence in the name of religion, they paint a picture of that religion based solely on the brutality—ignoring all the positive sides of religion.

Islam is based on five pillars all Muslims should adhere to. The first pillar is “ shahada,” a declaration that there is only one God, and the Prophet Muhammad is the last of his messengers.  The second pillar is “salat,” a prayer Muslims perform five times a day. The third pillar is “zakat,” which means giving charity to the poor and to those in need. The fourth pillar is “sawm,” which is the act of fasting during the holy month of Ramadan. The final pillar is “hajj,” the pilgrimage to Mecca.

These pillars represent the basis on which Islam was created. Growing up, my parents really emphasized the importance of kindness and generosity.

“This should be the focus of your time here on earth,” they’d say.  Islam’s pillars reinforce kindness. This is why faith plays such a big part in my life. Many people say: “What if it’s all fake? And you’ve lived your life trying to be good all for nothing?” Yet, that is the point of Islam and many other religions in the first place—to sacrifice, and live your life for others, having faith that this is your purpose.

Warraich’s father (top left), with his siblings and other relatives

For me, regardless of whether it’s all fake or not, religion has taught me these key principles. To be kind, generous, empathetic, honest and to help people, regardless of their faith. Living with these ideals and trying to uphold them regularly is, in my opinion, a good way to live your life—this is regardless of what you feel happens after we die. This is why I find religion so powerful.

On Jan. 29, in la grande mosquée de Québec in Quebec city, six men, four of whom were fathers to young children, were massacred as they stood for evening prayer. The term I want to introduce here is “shahid.” This word is used to denote a martyr, a person who has died fulfilling a religious commandment.

Though people will say these men were not fighting for Islam in the typical way we think of today, these men are the brightest and most valued of Muslims—innocent, humble and hardworking fathers who were taken from this world and from their children too early. We must not forget what happened almost 10 days ago, we must not forget the names of these men, and we must always remember what they and their families were forced to go through in order to shed light on the problems our society faces. May they find their way into eternal paradise and may their families be lessened of the burden they now face.

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Opinions

Don’t you dare judge the hijab

A rebuttal to a disturbing and misinformed article regarding the burkini ban

Last month, The Concordian published an opinion piece entitled “Advocating for a full ban of the controversial burkini.” The argument made by the contributor was typical. It claimed that Muslim women who wear the burkini are disempowered and are prevented from “taking full control of their bodies.” After reading the article, I was infuriated, annoyed and disturbed to say the least, and I’m tired of these stereotypes surrounding Islam.

A 2016 study released by the Environics Institute, a Canadian-based social science research centre, revealed the number of hijab-wearing women has increased over the last decade in Canada, particularly among younger adults between the ages of 18 and 34. Also, 52 per cent of Canadian Muslim women wear the hijab or other headscarves in public, according to the same study. Many women choose to wear the hijab—they don’t wear it simply because they were coerced into doing so by their religion, as the article implied.

The idea of the hijab as a tool of oppression is widely held throughout the Western world. In my opinion, the hijab isn’t a symbol of oppression. Oppression exists because of various socio-economic reasons, and it exists in countries outside of the Muslim world.

Graphic by Florence Yee

I won’t argue that oppression isn’t a problem in Islamic countries. There are a lot of countries under Islamic law that impose restrictions on women which are completely unjustified—but these are not issues that stem from Islam. For example, in Saudi Arabia, women are not allowed to drive. Many people blame Islam for this policy but in the Qur’an, it is stated nowhere that this is true.

Countries such as Saudi Arabia and Pakistan are led by predominantly male political and religious leaders who—in my opinion—misinterpret the Qur’an and implement made-up rules that allow them to control women. It’s a question of culture, not religion.

In the article that was published, the writer chose to use a verse from the Qur’an that says that women should conceal their bodies and only reveal themselves to their husband. The thing is, there’s a huge double standard when it comes to Islam and the idea of sexism. For example, in the Christian bible, there are also verses where women are deemed inferior to men. I could take any religious quote from any religious text and distort the meaning, thus taking it completely out of context.

When the Qur’an was first written, it actually gave a lot of women in the Arab Peninsula rights they didn’t have before. For example, the fourth chapter of the Qur’an is titled “An-Nisa” or “Women” and discusses women’s issues and inheritance laws. Women were allowed to inherit property during this time, and were entitled to child support if they chose to divorce.

To a Muslim woman who chooses to wear the headscarf or to dress modestly, the hijab means to be free. She is choosing to put the attention not on her physical beauty, but on the other assets that make her who she is: her brain, her wit, her thoughts. The hijab emphasizes a woman’s personality, and she is simply asserting that her physical appearance shouldn’t play a role in her social interactions. Also, women who choose to wear the hijab might be doing so because of their own personal relationship with God. There are various reasons for women to dress modestly not just because they feel forced to do so.  

When I defend the hijab, I’m usually told that I have internalized sexism and that I’m allowing women to be oppressed by Islam. But that’s not true. I’m an intersectional feminist, which means that I advocate for those of various social identities and those who are oppressed or discriminated against because of their race, sexuality, etc. While I agree a woman shouldn’t be forced to wear something she doesn’t want to, I also defend the idea that a woman shouldn’t be told not to wear something just because it might offend a few Westerners.

The hijab is another form of female expression, not oppression. Here in Canada, women are allowed to dress however they want, and Muslim women absolutely have the right to wear the hijab if they chose to do so.

Read the article ‘Advocating for a full ban of the controversial burkina’ here: theconcordian.com/2016/09/banontheburkini

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Opinions

Burkini backlash

This past week, images surfaced from Cannes, France where four armed police officers surrounded an innocent woman on the beach. They forced her to remove her garments amongst a bevy of bystanders and issued her a hefty fine for defying a new ban that prohibits her apparel.

The burkini is a swimsuit that essentially covers the entire body and is worn by Islamic women around the world when swimming or sunbathing. It adheres to their religious beliefs regarding veiling, while also allowing them to enjoy typical aquatic activities, such as going to the beach on a sweltering summer day.

Several French municipalities banned the religious swimwear, with the French Prime Minister saying that the swimsuit symbolizes “the enslavement of women,” according to the CBC. However, this past Friday the ban was overturned by a French high court, ruling that municipalities cannot issue fines, according to another report by the CBC.

Nevertheless, the debate has even spread overseas to Quebec. CAQ MNA Nathalie Roy recently advocated for a province-wide ban of the burkini, and linked the religious garment to radical Islam, according to the CBC. Meanwhile, Parti Quebecois leadership candidate Jean-Francois Lisée said to CTV that the hijab and burkini represent “the ultimate symbol of oppression of women.”

These remarks are reminiscent of Pauline Marois’ mandate back in 2012, when her government tried to introduce the draconian Charter of Quebec Values, which drew upon the dark underbelly of Quebec’s xenophobia. Although the charter was never passed, it stirred up quite the controversy and casted many religious minorities—including Muslim women—to the peripheries of society.

Here at The Concordian, we are absolutely mortified by the conversation amongst Quebec’s political elites, and we fully oppose any ban on religious garments. Since when is it appropriate for the government to tell its citizens how to dress?

It was nearly a century ago that women were subjected to similar harassment from the police in North America, but it was because their swimsuits were too short and revealed too much skin, according to an article published in The Huffington Post. An accompanying photo featured in the article reveals a policeman using measuring tape to see if the length of a woman’s bathing suit is preserving her modesty.

It is preposterous and paradoxical to create a policy that would aim to impose that same kind of control. Furthermore, it is blatantly oppressive and misogynistic to tell women how to dress, in order to meet certain standards, or to better blend into society.

We should all have the right to wear whatever we want, whenever we want—even if it signifies our religious beliefs. The beauty of living in a secular and pluralistic society is that people have the power to determine their own destiny, and we think that wearing the burkini or practicing Islam is a part of that. We should be advocating for tolerance and acceptance, rather than resorting to divisive tactics that drive minority groups further towards the fringes of society.  

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Opinions

Freedom of speech vs. freedom of religion

Does killing innocent people, creating riots and destroying buildings really communicate the right message regarding a controversial Youtube video?

On Sept. 11 four American diplomats, including an ambassador, were killed in Libya following the release of a controversial anti-Muslim YouTube video. Afterwards, riots broke out in two dozen Middle Eastern countries. The protests against the video were largely violent and the New York Times reported that at least 28 people had died as a result of the reactionary demonstrations.

On Sept. 15, the FBI arrested 55-year-old suspect, Nakoula Basseley Nakoula, an Egyptian-born American citizen, for allegedly taking part in the creation a short film portraying or rather parodying the Prophet Muhammad and Muslims as a war-mongering nation.

Shortly after the suspect’s arrest in California, federal probation officers interviewed him for half-an-hour and then released him. Nakoula’s release further angered Muslim communities around the world and some Muslim leaders demanded that American authorities arrest the suspect and execute him.

“The anti-Islam film hurt our religious sentiments and we cannot tolerate it,” spokesman for the Afghan militant group Hizb-i-Islami, Haroon Zarghoon, told The Associated Press. “There had been several young men who wanted to take revenge […] to tell the world we cannot ignore any anti-Islam attack.”

On Sept. 22 Pakistan’s Railways Minister Ghulam Ahmed Bilour also had a lot to say about the video.

“I announce today that this blasphemer who has abused the holy prophet, if somebody will kill him, I will give that person a prize of $100,000,” he said.

Did Nakoula, a Coptic Christian, really commit a crime punishable by a prison sentence or even death? I believe he did not.

Although the creation and release of the video does violate moral and ethical conventions, it does not constitute a crime under U.S. law. The United States is a democratic society that values freedom of expression and the country should not be held accountable for the acts of one citizen.

In my opinion, the violence seen in many Muslim countries is unacceptable, especially the murder of innocent foreign diplomats. The reaction of the Muslim world is disproportionate to Nakoula’s acts. No country or group of people is allowed to demand the imprisonment of a citizen that would go against that country’s constitution.

I understand that in Islamic law, insulting the Prophet Mohammad is a crime punishable by death, but the Western world is not governed by religious laws or by threats. We are a democratic society bound by judicial law and try as we might not to offend the views of others, violence is never going to be the answer.

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