All of us live surrounded by trauma, and some of us might have experienced it first hand in different shape or form. Trauma has a very deep and wide ranging effect on the psyche of an individual, but not only that: its effect spreads in the society, and across generations. There are many reasons for it, but one that stands out in my mind is based on my firm belief that we are all interconnected. This belief is backed by some research. When we communicate, our body language mirrors one another; similarly, we tune to one another’s emotions. Others’ emotions have an effect of us – cheerfulness of happy people may rub off on us, and sadness of grieving ones may also leave us sad, there’s even a term for it: “emotional contagion” (Myers, 2008).

Post 9/11, research was done studying the effect of the tragedies on the general population in the United States, and the findings showed, that people who did not directly experience the events, but were exposed to their horrifying images via the media exhibited some signs of post traumatic stress (Psychology Beyond Borders). A report by Psychology Beyond Borders talks about effects of secondary trauma on therapists, social workers, and others in human services. Research has been done in this area. Pearlman & Saakvitne noted that “All those who engage empathically with survivors of trauma are vulnerable to vicarious traumatization.”

Human rights activists are no exceptions: we absorb countless stories of suffering and torture, view images and videos showing their effects. Whereas in the past it may have been possible to become numb to impersonal reports from the mass media, giving the count of the dead, and location of catastrophes, in the age of social media, the personal stories of the victims, their faces, their lives become more alive for all of us, and somehow the involvement becomes more personal. And when the involvement is personal, the risk of trauma is higher.

The diagnostic and statistical manual used widely in the United States for diagnosis of psychological disorders (DSM IV) states that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can be developed by people who witnessed a sudden horrifying death, or whose loved one suffered it. Even though most of us do not know the victims and survivors personally, the social networks bring us much closer to them. We know their faces, we know their stories, we see their mothers cry at their funerals. As we all become closer to one another, as we watch the media, we need to be aware that all of this has an effect on us.

The effect may be sadness, nightmares, insomnia, lack of appetite, tiredness. If prolonged, they can lead to depression. This is something we should take seriously, and take steps towards self care. Feeling bad, or taking time for rest and relaxation is not something to feel guilty about. We humans like to compare, and say things like – my life is so easy in comparison to so and so. We try to apply reason and logic to ignore or minimize our pain, but the thing is, pain is pain, and there is no logic to it. Of course relative where we are we need to be grateful for whatever we have: freedom of speech, health – but that’s not to discount the pain that we may feel. Because this pain can lead to burn out, or to the condition of secondary traumatic stress.

I am saying all of this because I would like to encourage the human rights activist friends to make sure they take steps toward proper self-care. You know, all those good things your mom would probably tell you too: exercise, get rest, eat healthy, and make sure to take time out with your loved ones. Creativity has been shown to help increase resilience of people working in trauma. Rituals help, so attending vigils or prayer gatherings can be a good way of honoring the memory and lives of the ones who suffer.

Above all, remember that self care is not a selfish deed. It prevents development of mental or physical illness and helps you to maintain and increase your energy level for all the amazing things that you do.

First, I would like to question the value that is automatically placed on agreement. The question is, agreement with what? Even if a person believes there is an actual source of truth (such as a holy scripture), any such source is subject to interpretation by human beings who by their nature are limited in their knowledge and understanding. To assume a need for an agreement is to assume that there is an interpretation worthy agreeing to. Expecting agreement somehow paradoxically leads to frustration and anger. How would it be to get comfortable with disagreement? I believe to be comfortable with disagreement is to be aware of one’s own limitations.

Second, and related to my first notion, is a question about Truth. It is a question of debate whether objective “Truth” exists. What if we substituted the abstract word of truth with a longer definition: what if truth is basically a sum total of all knowledge? Understanding of all the relations that exist in this world, and knowing the answers to all the unanswered questions? In this sense, it seems easy to concede that this would be a very large and complex body of knowledge that no mind can grasp of its own. What if contradictions are true because they are just different sides of a huge mountain that all of us are climbing, but because the mountain is very large, our sight cannot encompass it in its entirety? The notion of being “right” (knowing the truth) can lead to exclusion of additional information, and prevent further expansion of knowledge.

We like to think in dual, binary ways. Truth versus lies, right versus wrong. In this mindset it is very easy to get trapped by words, ideas, or ideologies. But, we do not have to take sides. What if there are no such dualities, but simply a continuum of knowledge? In this sense, I believe it would be easier to give a priority to the well being of people (their human rights), rather than establishing a victory of certain ideas.

Next, I also would like to question the definition of the Other. The Other stems from our dualistic tendency to view things as separate. So far, in multiculturalism, the focus has been on differences. On what differentiates the Other (as if to better identify them, define them for the purposes of manipulation, control, or simply making the other like us). I would like to suggest that there is another view one can take. I believe it is possible to recognize and hold the differences, and at the same time, recognize what is common between the Other and I. Perhaps it is a question of belief (even if belief in science and biology) that there is more to our common humanity than to the differences created by labels others identify us with or we choose to identify ourselves.

And further, empathy. It has been posited that empathy is required to understand The Other without the necessity of agreeing. Sometimes, empathy is considered as the ability to feel what the other feels. This notion is problematic because of course we can never know the totality of another’s internal experience. Let’s look at empathy as the ability to imagine what the other is feeling, and to think what this feeling might mean for the person. In other words, empathy is not just the ability to reproduce a feeling, it is an ability to recreate the feeling in imagination, and hypothesize its potential consequences to a person’s thoughts and behavior.

Between any two people, there is a field of uncertainty, no matter if these two people are strangers from antagonized groups, or if they are a married couple. My point is we need to learn to accept this unknown. This Unknown transcends the right and the wrong, the truth and untruth, the differences and commonalities between the I and Thou. It can be seen as a field, or maybe even better, as a forest. We go into the forest, looking for the other, and we need to imagine that they are looking for us. This search, I would think, is something that all of us can attempt. That we are capable of it, and that we may be willing to do it, is a source of hope for me.

PS: This is just a quick outline of thoughts. One day, I hope to expand this with more theory, quotes, and stories. One day. I hope.

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I already hear arguments about violence perpetrated by people aboard, but the numbers speak for themselves: 10-20 activists were killed, many more injured. On the side of IDF, there are no known casualties at this point, although one was seriously injured. The attack happened in international waters, breaking international laws. Yet the propaganda spin machine already spews out arguments about necessary “self-defense” on the side of IDF. Attack is now called self-defense? This could be an example from a textbook teaching Orwellian double speak. When oppressed people try to defend themselves, they are called terrorists; when people in power attack, they call it self-defense.

And as the propaganda floods the media (or as media largely ignore what happens), who thinks of the people in Gaza? Who considers the root cause of this problem, the gross human rights violations carried out, in front of the eyes of the entire world, on a daily basis, with impunity? Who pays attention to the Goldstone report? I am furious. I feel helpless too – the machinery of governments is big and powerful, and keeps on spinning in its oppressive direction.

Yet I am grateful for the activists out there. I am still learning what this means, and I guess becoming an ally is a lifelong process of learning. I think knowledge is important, knowledge of the causes we support, knowledge of cultures other than ours. Activism becomes a very emotional matter, I believe because it ultimately works against violence, and violence is emotionally charged. But I do not want to take sides against any group of people. I take a side against oppression, and against violence. I don’t want my work to be fueled by anger. But, if this is what I can do my anger, let me try.

In narrative approaches to psychotherapy, there is a technique called externalization. It defines a problem that people face as a phenomenon that everyone must collaborate to solve. It purposefully does not try to fault with individuals. I think it is useful to look at oppression as such a phenomenon.I want to believe that most people have good intentions, and that they would not consciously choose to deny human rights to others, but that lack of understanding perpetuates bias and oppression. That is why we must continue speaking up, sticking to non-violent ways, work to open people’s hearts. Love is the anti-dote for violence. Individuals deserve the benefit of doubt, in fact, not a benefit, but an imperative of doubt. I would prefer my work to be driven by love.

The world premiere of The Taqwacores was on Sunday January 24th in Park City, with The Kominas, Al Thawra, Mike Knight, and many of us fans in the audience. We cheered wildly to the opening credits, as The Kominas song Sharia Law in the USA set the scene. From the start it was clear that this is about rebellion, but not without humor.

Eyad’s movie is based on a book of the same title, written by Michael Muhammad Knight. It tells a story of Yusuf, an engineering student, who moves off campus to live in a house, inhabited by people who are all Muslim, “from a certain point of view.” There is Amazing Ayyub, the Shi’a skinhead, Fasiq, the Indonesian skater boy, Rabeya, the Burqa clad riot grrrl, Umar, a straightedge punk, and Jehangir, a visionary mystic reminiscent of Dean Moriarty from Kerouac’s On the Road, a book that Taqwacores reminds me of so much because of its love of life, uninhibited by societal baggage. All of these characters are united by being outsiders, from a certain point of view, outsiders with a desire to belong, and to love Allah, in their own personal way.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1kDYlbQgOw[/youtube]

Eyad’s rendition of the book follows the original very closely, and the casting is just perfect. Dominic Rains as Jehangir and Volkan Eryaman as Amazing Ayyub got into those characters so deeply, that I have a hard time now thinking of Domic as Dominc, and not as Jehangir. Volkan gave such a beauty to Ayyub, an overgrown, passionate, wild child that I want to see the movie again just to see his quirks and silly shenanigans. The beauty of the movie is also in its cinematography, where color is toned down almost to the point of being black and white, emphasizing the gritty surroundings in which the punks live. The soundtrack of the movie of course features songs by The Kominas, Al Thawra, Secret Trial Five, and Sagg Taqwacore Syndicate, bands, that have been shaping the taqwa scene for a few years now.

The Kominas and Al Thawra, together with Filmstrip, played in Park City’s Star Bar on the 25th January to celebrate the premiere. Many of us agreed that Sundance was a life changing experience, and the Park City show, the best show ever. Of course this is personal, having met the people involved, and gaining some sense of understanding for their struggle. But these bands create such beautiful punk mosh pit mayhem that would be difficult to remain untouched by.

Filmstrip from Cleveland opened the show. Their drummer, Nick Riley, was also a production manager for The Taqwacores movie, and his Cleveland Tower 2012 punk house was used to shoot the movie. Filmstrip is a band to watch out for, with beautiful instrumentation and guitars that soothe the mind. Natalie Hammingson described their sound in her post Taqwacores Make Their Pilgrimage to Sundance as psychedelic punk, which I would like to borrow here. Yes to the psychedelic punk.

Filmstrip

Marwan Kamel and Micah Behzold

The Kominas have a more playful feel, they use a lot of humor and sarcasm to deal with issues such as Islamophobia, hypocrisy, or homophobia. The great thing about the Kominas is their openness. This is their second show that I was lucky to see, and in each of these shows, they slowly convert the show into a jam session, where everyone is welcome. At one point, The Kominas said that they needed some dancers on the stage, and so many of the fans, the movie cast, the director, climbed the stage, dragged Mike Knight on it too, and joined in the singing and moshing right there with the band. At these shows, one cannot remain a passive spectator, an involvement is inevitable because the bands will jump down and play right there in the middle of the moshing crowd. And I think this is the key.

The Kominas

There are probably as many definitions of taqwacore as there are people connected to taqwacore, and that is a great thing because to me, it is about an openness. It is somewhat ironic that taqwacore is becoming a label, just by the nature of it being a name assigned to a group of people, but at its essence, it is about removing labels. About being an outsider who belongs, and who creates something beautiful from this tension of being inbetween.

Marwan Kamel is a son of Syrian father and a Polish mother, and grew up in Chicago. We talked a bit about Al Thawra music and a bit about his identity, and of course THE taqwacore movement and THE Taqwacores book (as seems inevitable in all the beginning taqwacore conversations). I was wondering if the questions about the identity and the book get boring or irritating given these bands must be asked the same thing over and over by the media since 2007.

Marwan was philosophical about this: He said the story becomes whatever the writer wants it to be. Often they already decided on the story before they talk to you, and, if you want publicity, you kind of have to bite the bullet. So, where do we start? I started on the Wikipedia: this is where I found Al Thawra, when trying to read up on the taqwacore movement.  Their video, Disorientation caught my attention, and so I set out to learn more about their story. I got their album, and fell in love with their music. Marwan says they are influenced by Sufi, and by Western experimental music (such as the composer John Cage), and one can really hear it. I swear I can hear Phil Glass inspiration somewhere in-between the lawyers too. I feel that with Al Thawra, you have to listen between the layers of sounds to really appreciate their music.

The beginnings of Al Thawra date to 2006 or 2007, when Marwan started experimenting with music on his computer. He calls it “me and my computer phase.”  He was trying to mix Middle Eastern music with punk and metal, trying to find commonalities, and differences. He put his song online for the first time sometimes in 2007, and within weeks, The Newsweek was calling him about an article they were doing on “Islam in America” (whatever that means).

Now, a question always comes up, what came first: forming the band, or reading Mike Knight’s book, The Taqwacores (published in 2003), which gave the name to this movement. In this case, Mike Knight and The Kominas somehow found the Al Thawra song online, and Mike Knight sent his book to Marwan. The book itself is a powerful story of several friends, living in a punk house in Buffalo, exploring sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll and questioning the traditions and conservatism of the Muslim community. The book has become something of a legend as it gave the name to the movement, and deserves a post in its own right. Marwan finished the book in two days, and felt like he could relate to its spirit.

Marwan says he sees a conservative Sunni community, with Imams in the US mosques being “imported” from Saudi Arabia, denying anything remotely different, such as the Shi’a form of Islam, and Sufism;  on the other hand, there are the mass media and general public, with their displays of prejudice, racism, and hate against the Muslims. Marwan said that this prejudice is probably the last “socially acceptable” form of racism in the United States, with even mass media displaying it without any repercussion.

One example Marwan quoted was when the shoe got thrown at George W. in Iraq. Some TV station commented on this as if it was some exotic custom: “Throwing shoes is a serious insult in Middle East.” Marwan was just thinking: why do they need to point this out? It’s as serious here in the US. It’s not like I’d be happy if someone were to throw a shoe on me here…. “Funny thing is, that shoe really did make a lasting impression on more than one taqwacore band. The Kominas made a point of throwing their shoes at their epic show in Oakland. I think one important message that taqwacore bands bring is that it’s time to get attuned to this prevalent and insidious prejudice, and start speaking up, speaking up like the philosopher Edward Said who talked about fascination with “Orientalism,” and whose words are used in Al Thawra’s video for Disorientation. Said says   “Orientalism is completely about the manufacture of the other, and that other is really of great convenience to oneself. It’s mainly done for purposes of domination….” We can see how the media today still perpetuate the notion of the “Other” when it comes to Muslims, and how dangerous the dehumanizing notion of the “Other” can be.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVI0xV6_gdA[/youtube]

Al Thawra music carries many other political themes, their song Miskeen, which means “someone who is doomed (or followed by bad fortune), comments on the situation in Gaza. It starts with a young Palestinian girl, reciting a sort of political protest poem, saying “we are the revolution,” the heirs of Salah ad-Din…. while the video shows dark streets of Chicago, public transport scene, and Al Thawra band members, with grim and somber expressions, as if reflecting the gloomy mood stemming from the incomprehensible and pointless oppression, regardless where it takes place.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNFjIkUodv4[/youtube]

Al Thawra’s songs are a commentary on political issues, and a criticism of hypocrisy, prejudice, and violence on all sides. The name of the band means The Revolution, and when we spoke with Marwan, we agreed on how this revolution really starts inside. How one has to go through, and face the darkness, but make sure that peace is first and foremost in one’s own heart, and relationships to one’s own family, friends, and community.

When it comes to community Al Thawra and the other taqwacores do find themselves in a strange place of tension that probably feeds their creativity. They feel the pull of their parents’ culture, as well as the pull of the culture of the US where they grew up. But they don’t completely belong anywhere. When Marwan goes to Syria, he is considered an American, here in the US, he is considered a Syrian. You know these questions, right – “Where are you from,  ORIGINALLY.” And the same thing with Islam: the Muslim community is not a homogenous group: there are variations in interpretation of the Holy Quran, variations in conservatism, but it is not likely that a traditional Muslim community would embrace a band of punks with open arms.

In 2007, Al Thawra and four other bands set out on a tour, accompanied by Omar Majeed, a film maker from Toronto who was working on his documentary called Taqwacores. They decided to conclude their tour at the ISNA conference in Chicago: the largest Muslim conference in North America. The bands decided to sign up to perform in at its Open Mic, which created an interesting reaction: the organizers were shocked and called the police to stop the show. The first band to perform was an all female band Secret Trial Five from Toronto. Second was Diacritical/ Sarmust from Washington DC. The cops arrived at the point when Sarmust was singing his song Ignorance, and he and a number of others were shouting “Stop the Hate.” It created an interesting contrast. As if both the community of their spiritual roots, as well as the community of their physical home conspired against them, as the cops arrived to put an end to their show.  All was captured for Omar’s film, and you can watch its teaser including some footage from ISNA here.

Since then, ISNA changed its policies, and performers must audition before being able to perform at the Open Mic. This was 2007, and the taqwacores are still going strong. Omar Majeed’s documentary is opening at the Vancouver International Film Festival in two weeks, and a movie based on the book The Taqwacores directed by Eyad Zahra is in production. Al Thawra is working on a new material in co-operation with an Indonesian band, The GATT, and with a Turkish artist, Serhat Koksal. Give them a listen. From the tension between the cultures, they create something new, something integrated, and something that transcends. Their music does carry a political statement, and walks through some dark places, but their message is ultimately about inclusion, unity, and transformation. All sides of this story can take something away from it.

But first, what exactly is taqwacore? I don’t think there is any exact definition, and if you asked ten people, everyone would probably give tell you something slightly different. Taqwacore is a subculture expressed in music inspired by punk, and a community inspired by Islam. It has evolved in the United States during the Bush era, as a response against rampant islamophobia, and as such, it carries political undertones. It also deals with the questions of identity, of being a child of immigrants and integrating different cultures in your identity, as many taqwacores come from families that immigrated to United States from different countries in Asia. Above all taqwacore is a call against hate and fundamentalism of any kind. This, I must point out, is my personal definition, and the said ten others may come up with something different.

I continue my exploration of taqwacore, having been introduced to it by The Kominas (a band of rather epic proportions), about whom I wrote here earlier. Since then, I have felt a great affinity for this movement, and was very happy when Ra found me. I listened to his songs on repeat since then, racking my brains to figure out where this guy is coming from.

Now here’s the deal. Ra is not a Muslim. Ra is not from Middle East. But this is something you would not know when listening to his music, or talking to him online. Labels don’t work very well online. Taqwacore is against labels, and about blended identities. So it all fits, right? In his music, and in our conversations, Ra speaks up for the Muslims, and against bigotry, and his story should be written up in an epic novel rather than in a short article.

Ra was raised a Mormon in Utah, and has been a part of the music scene there. He  witnessed the famous Salt Lake City punk scene that in itself formed a basis for a movie. So his roots are punk, and counterculture, and with hindsight it seems logical that taqwacore would come next.

The first Muslim person that Ra met was a refugee  from the former Yugoslavia, when many immigrated to Utah during the Croatian and Bosnian wars for independence in the early ‘90s. Ra formed first friendships with people following Islam then. He read The Holy Quran, and said how much beauty he found there. Also violence, but not really more violence than say in the Torah. Taqwacore on the other hand is all about rejecting violence, of trying to find new ways to be united. Mike Knight expresses this struggle in his novel, The Taqwacores, which gave the name to the movement. (If there is a list of required taqwacore reading, this would be it). Ra found Taqwacores the book in the trash somewhere in Colorado (his story seems full of epic travels), picked the book up with missing pages, and liked the idea, but thought that this was complete fiction; he liked how preposterous the concept of Muslim Punk  seemed (how could this ever be real?). But it was. When things are meant to happen, they will, even in weird ways, you find a book in the trash, and it leads you to people.

Of course there is a longer thread between Ra meeting his first Bosnian refugee Muslim friend, and picking up The Taqwacores novel in the trash. The Bush years were the inbetween, and the war on the alleged terror. In his music, Ra comments… comments on the war experience, on war, on Afghanistan, on Palestine. His song, Afghan wishes, speaks about death with dark poetry, and concludes “get outta my face…if you think that death is a game,” speaking (to me) about the devaluation of human life, that the Bush era brought with its reckless rush into injustified wars.

Another song speaks about Dhaba ‘Debbie’ Almontaser, a teacher and a peace activist of Yemeni origin in New York, who founded the Khalil Gibran International Academy and was later forced to resign from it, after promoting a Tshirt with a sign of “Intifada NYC” – the Tshirt’s meaning (to shake off oppression) was misconstrued as inciting violence, and a scandal and lawsuits ensued. In the song Rusty Pipes, Ra sings:

“In the name of my family and my dead father:
New York city is in the need for an Intifada!
…
And you ask why I am angry like I am
Because my family just got killed by Uncle Sam”
The verse unfortunately rings too true in Ra’s life, since his younger brother died in Iraq. There are many layers to Ra’s story, and to his message. Layers of loss, of rage, of love, of passion. Just go and listen to his music. This is what Ra says about himself. He sums it all up better than I could:

“I would’ve been biting on Chuck Berry in the 50′s and Hendrix in the 70′s It’s just the 2000′s and Im biting on the Dead Bhutto’s and Mike Knight instead.
I dont want your Top 40!
I dont want to battle any band!
I’d prefer justice rather than an award
INCLUSION~Diversity~EVOLUTION
helping ease the masses into the future
I prefer harsh reality to candy coated lies
Friends in place of Fans
Comrades in place of Commanders
No stolen rule…No stolen elections…
and NO we dont want your occupation!!!

We dont require your write-ups, put downs,
call backs, set ups, push pins, break thrus
and buzz clips!!!
We only require the following:
JUSTICE!!!
TOLERANCE!!
and a bit of fucking REASON!!!!”

Check out Sagg’s song Afghan wishes on his myspace page. Lyrics are here:

Afghan Wishes
Smoke covered mountains
Cloud covered dreams
Death and his brother
Watching me sleep

Waking in an Inferno
and Demons laughing proud
Lost within a religion
A naked faceless shroud

Cobble bottomed plasma pool
Demonic evil and impish fool
Godlike Thanatos dripping fire
and Truth becomes a frail liar

death and sleep

Poison lips, poison one
getting sick, hike up alone
the burning red, and now I’m dead

I dont know you
(army cadence chant in background)
you know the same
I’m all alone
waiting to be slain

No I don’t know you
get outta my face

if you think that death is a game

Only couple days ago, a new date of the trial was reported (August 18). This is the third date that was given over the course of the year, and there is no way of knowing whether it will be upheld. The prisoners have not had an access to their lawyer, who as a height of irony was also recently imprisoned himself.

As much as the reason for this event was tragic, the event itself was quite uplifting and encouraging, and planned on an unprecedented scale. It was hosted in the Herbst Theatre, a venue that seats 1,000 people. The theatre was packed to the point that some people had to stand. The fact that in this venue, The United Nations Charter of 1945 was signed, added to the special nature of the evening.

Several distinguished speakers participated: San Francisco Supervisor, and first Iranian American to be elected to public office, Ross Mirkarimi spoke passionately about the events in Iran, and the desire of the local politicians to support the freedom movement. Sepi Richardson, the Mayor of Brisbane, and the first Iranian American woman to be elected to public office spoke of her dream for democracy and freedom for Iran, the country so many of us hold so dear in our hearts.

In the photo: Sepi Richardson, Mayor of Brisbane

Dr. Abbas Milani, the director of the Stanford Iranian studies program gave a historical perspective on Baha’i persecutions, and highlighted Baha’i contributions to the Iranian society, including mentioning the fact that the architect of the Freedom Monument on the Azadi square is a Baha’i. Finally Dr. Farhad Sabetan, a representative of the Baha’i International Community at the United Nations spoke about the plight of the seven prisoners.

In the photo: Fares and Kaveh Hedayati

It was very encouraging and heartwarming to see these local dignitaries express their passion for human rights in Iran, and their support for the Baha’i prisoners. Other than encouragement, the evening brought some uplifting moments as it was imbued with arts, and included a small presentation by children, who read a letter that they wrote to the President Obama regarding Baha’i persecutions in Iran. The artistic presentations were quite diverse: classical Western and Persian music, spoken word, and a dramatic presentation “We are not spies.” Prayers in English, Spanish, Tongan, and Farsi languages were offered.

There is really no way of knowing whether the trial will happen on August 18th, and what the outcome may be. But it is my hope that we will soon see free Iran, where everyone can exercise the human rights we all are entitled to. Doctor Sabetan concluded his talk by reading the letter written to the Iranian Baha’is by the Universal House of Justice, the international elected governing body of the Baha’i community. I would like to do the same because of the inspiring nature of its words.

To the Bahá’ís of Iran

Dearly loved Friends,

With hearts grieved by events unfolding in Iran, we address this letter to you, the steadfast followers of Bahá’u’lláh in that land. To the concern for your safety that has long weighed on us is now added mounting fear for the safety of millions of Iranian men and women, so many of them at the pinnacle of their youth, their vast potentialities yearning to be realized. How rapidly have veils been rent asunder! Cruelty meted out in calculated measures to you and others over the years has been unleashed in the streets of Iran for all humanity to see. No matter what the turn of events, we are confident you will adhere firmly to the fundamental principle of our Faith that strictly prohibits any involvement in partisan political activity by individual Bahá’ís or by Bahá’í institutions. Yet you cannot remain aloof and insensitive to the suffering of your people. Decades of hardship have prepared each of you to stand as a beacon of strength in the circle of your family and friends, your neighbours and acquaintances, radiating hope and compassion to all those in need. Keep alive in your hearts the feeling of confidence that the future of Iran holds bright promise, the certitude that the light of knowledge will inevitably dispel the clouds of ignorance, the conviction that concern for justice will protect the nation from falling prey to calumny, and the belief that love will ultimately conquer hatred and enmity. You have demonstrated in the example of your lives that the proper response to oppression is neither to succumb in resignation nor to take on the characteristics of the oppressor. The victim of oppression can transcend it through an inner strength that shields the soul from bitterness and hatred and which sustains consistent, principled action. May the words of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá resound: “Iran shall become a focal centre of divine splendours. Her darksome soil will become luminous and her land will shine resplendent.” You and your compatriots are in our continued prayers.

[signed: The Universal House of Justice] Dated June 23, 2009

More photos from the event can be seen on flickr: Evening in Support of Iranian Baha’is

So, thanks to further disbursement of Twitter magic, I learnt that they are on tour, and playing in the Bay Area. Deciding to go to the concert on August 1 in Oakland was a no brainer – I knew I was in for something special because the punk subculture and Islam are close to my heart. How does this fit together? Perfectly! (At least in my mind).

Photo: Basim Usmani, Arjun Ray, Nyle Usmani

Punk is music of revolt. It’s a revolt of youth against the establishment, against its materialism, apathy, and hypocrisy. Punk emerged in the 70’s in the UK and US; in UK as a response to the bleak era of Thatcherism. Its music is fast, raw, energetic, and spontaneous, but punk is not just about music. It’s a movement; it’s a community of friends who stick together, and try to define their life without the barrage of the consumerist attitudes plaguing the establishment.

The Kominas with their humor take on the society’s hypocrisy very well. Songs like Walqaeda Superstore that talks about Saudi oil industry and American consumerism, or Sharia Law in the USA that deal with the fear of Muslims are great examples. It’s no wonder: if anyone saw a fair share of hypocrisy, it would be the American Muslims when our homegrown Ahmadinejad, George W. Bush entered stage and introduced his very own brand of bleakness.

Photo: Shahjehan Malik Khan, Arjun Ray

Growing up in this land that claims freedom and human rights for all on one hand, and which feeds and perpetuates prejudice against the Muslims and Islam on daily basis must have been a challenging experience. The band members spent their youth in the post 9/11 dark ages, an era which has done so much to perpetuate labeling of Muslims as terrorists, fanatics, and weirdos. This kind of climate must have presented some odd experiences for Muslim teenagers, who would already be likely struggling with the issues of identity and stereotypes: mix of cultures of their parents, and the society in which they are growing up, question of race (“brown” people in a society that is so hyper-focused on “black” and “white”), as artists who tend to be traditionally expected by their community to go to MIT and take up a Masters in Engineering or some such. That’s why the song Sharia Law in the USA has such a touch of genius: by morphing one of the greatest tag lines of punk from the godfathers of the movement, the Sex Pistols: “I am the anti-christ, I am an anarchist,” into “I am an Islamist, I am The Antichrist,” The Kominas are heaping the well deserved mockery onto the prejudiced masses, and make one big shout to express their revolt. Other Kominas songs are more contemplative, with poetry of belonging, and loss. Their latest song, Dog Called Akhira (lyrics), recorded in collaboration with Prop Anon only a week ago, is dealing with mourning and grief. You can check the song here, with The Kominas permission:

[audio:http://www.mideastyouth.com/audio/akhira.mp3]

To me, somehow all The Kominas songs convey struggle to establish one’s own identity in an environment ignorant at best, and hostile at worst (or vice versa?).

Photo: Prop Anon, Basim Usmani

Basim Usmani, the band’s singer and author of the songs’ lyrics, mentioned in a great interview for Sepia Mutiny that when he was in 4th grade, a child would bring The Bible to school every day, and tell him that he would be going to hell. Basim’s attempts to explain that he also has a spiritual tradition were completely in vain. I do remember that post 9/11, people were so crazed that there were that even a Sikh man (!) was beaten somewhere at a gas station in New Jersey up because the thugs who got him thought he was a terrorist. Obviously they didn’t do their research first. This kind of ignorance feeds the prejudice, and it is something that many of us are fed up with.

In this climate, a book called Taqwacores by Michael Muhammad Knight was published that helped define the Taqwacore movement. This book connected several US bands into an underground movement, and currently, a movie is being made based on it.

Due to some lucky constellation in the stars over the Bay Area, it so happened, that the author of the book, the director of the movie, as well a bunch of friends were present at the Oakland show. Consequently, I found myself at a show that was more like a party. At one point, the Kominas took off their shoes and threw them into the audience. When I asked them later if this is a tradition, they said that yes, since G.W. Bush trip to Iraq. At some point, they jumped off the stage and played among the crowd, and later, all piled up on the floor (I wish I could have captured that scene, but the floor was very dark!).

Photo: Imran Malik

Other than Kominas, the bands that were performing were Micropixie, Prop Anon, Sarmust, and Mujahideeen Bernstein Affair. All of them joined at the end for one splendid jam session, with energy that feeds me till this day. I could feel their love, I could feel their anger (more love than anger, really), but most of all, I heard their demand to STOP THE HATE.

Photo: Nyle Usmani, Arjun Ray

The general ignorance about Islam and Muslims, and prejudice angers me, and so I want to do my bit to promote the Kominas and spread their word. As much as I loved their music and their performance, what touched me most was the friendship that I saw they shared, and the struggle that they so poignantly express.

You can follow the Kominas and the Taqwacore movement in the Taqwacore Webzine. Big kudos to Kaitlin Foley for her valuable suggestions for this post. A full set of photos from the concert can be seen on Flickr.

As a Baha’i, I am grateful for the friends from the MideastYouth.com and Muslim Network for Baha’i Rights for coming up with the idea and organizing the Baha’i Rights day, which was also made possible with the enormous help of our friends at Iran Press Watch. The idea was simple: get the #BahaiRights hashtag* (see note below) trending on Twitter, meaning, make the the Baha’i Rights one of the top 10 most frequent topics on Twitter, so that people’s attention is drawn to the issue of Baha’i persecutions in Iran and Egypt. Later, this idea expanded to Facebook and blogs to spread the awareness across the entire web. I got the insider view of the campaign as I was helping a little, and so I wanted to write a couple of insights about it.

It seems that universe made a small conspiracy against this effort: the date that was originally chosen, July 9, which is a Baha’i holy day commemorating the Martyrdom of the Bab, also coincided with the 10th anniversary of the student uprising in Iran, 18 Tir. The decision was made to move the date of the campaign to July 11, and so we had to spread the word, and make sure that the Twitterverse, the Blogality, and The Facebookers all know when to raise their voices (or for some who have been talking about this for a while, raise the volume). July 11 was also the date when the seven Baha’i leaders held in the Evin prison were scheduled to go on trial. If I remember correctly, there were only about couple weeks of planning with folks extremely busy: traveling and taking exams, so there was no time to produce a new video clip. However, a simple, but effective web page was built for the occasion, featuring the earlier video, Safeguard the Innocent.

On the actual 11th July, Twitter failed us because a couple of crucial contributor’s hashtags were not working. However, a big discussion of #BahaiRights was generated on Twitter, with various religions and nationalities participating. According to Esra’a Al Shafei, the director of MideastYouth.com, we had at least 4 religions represented. People generated approximately 1.400 tweets in at least 7 languages, and over 4.700 people joined a Facebook group dedicated to the cause. It was very heartening to see all the diverse friends tweeting in support of Baha’i Rights. Possibly because of this buzz, Andrew Sullivan’s Daily Dish at The Atlantic Monthly featured the Safeguard the Innocent video clip. I learned about through a friend who sent me a message via Twitter, saying, you surely saw this. I didn’t. It was the most amazing surprise and a reward.

Things that worked great:

• Having a central webpage for the campaign where we could point people to
• Having a powerful video clip as a symbol of the campaign
• Choice of a meaningful date (the date of the trial)
• Cooperation between diverse friends over several continents and very short time

Now, couple notes for future about running an online campaign:

• Test Twitter hashtags for key accounts several days before the event (it can take Twitter support several days or up to a week to fix the issue)
• Pre-prepare high quality tweets that include facts, quotes, links, and stories
• Be clear on what action can other people take to help
• Include tips on tweeting, retweeting, and hashtags for those new to Twitter
• Establish additional goals of the campaign (i.e. find 1,000 people to sign Amnesty’s petition, etc.)
• Make a list of human rights activists to contact, and notify them about the event beforehand, so they can give their support

The Baha’i Rights day was not limited to only Baha’is, or only Muslims, but participants were from all over the world representing diverse religions and personal beliefs. We envision a similar day for the Sunnis in Iran, and for the Kurds who continue to struggle for their rights throughout the Middle East.

*For people not familiar with Twitter, hashtags are a way of marking up keywords on Twitter that enable others to easily find tweets with topics of interest.