Maha Hussaini says “every day felt like my last” as she documented atrocities in Gaza. UK arrests people for saying “Globalize the Intifada” and a resistance commander is assassinated.

Despite the October ceasefire, thousands could develop conditions affecting their vision.

Despite fresh attempts to make women cover up, many believe the regime wouldn’t risk mass arrests for fear of sparking a wave of popular unrest last seen after the killing of Mahsa Amini

On the streets of Iran’s capital, Tehran, young women are increasingly flouting the compulsory hijab laws, posting videos online that show them walking the streets unveiled. Their defiance comes more than three years after the killing of Mahsa Amini, a 22-year-old Kurdish woman taken into custody by the “morality police” for allegedly breaching the dress code rules. Her death led to the largest wave of popular unrest for years in Iran and a crackdown by security services in response, with hundreds of protesters killed and thousands injured.

Under Iran’s “hijab and chastity” law, which came into force in 2024, women caught “promoting nudity, indecency, unveiling or improper dressing” face severe penalties, including fines of up to £12,500, flogging and prison sentences ranging from five to 15 years for repeat offenders.

Two young female friends meet up in Laleh park to rest and drink tea together after a long working day. They used to be classmates studying English

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Structures on the verge of collapse in Gaza City’s al-Rimal endanger those living inside and near them.

Móglaí Bap believes that small acts of solidarity can have a huge impact.

Last week, the government announced a new initiative to combat misogyny among young men, targeting both schoolchildren and teachers. The £20m programme will include training for teachers to “spot and tackle misogyny in the classroom” and on issues such as consent and the sharing of intimate images, behavioural programmes for “high-risk pupils” and a helpline for teenagers facing abuse in their relationships. £16m of the money is to be funded directly through taxation; the other £4m will, the government proposes, be raised from private philanthropy. There has been some criticism, such as from the Liberal Democrats who said that the effort would fail if it were not accompanied by efforts to “properly moderate online content”; the domestic abuse commissioner for England and Wales, Nicole Jacobs, said the commitments did not go far enough and that the ‘investment’ was too little. Kemi Badenoch, the Tory party leader, accused the government of spending the summer watching the drama Adolescence, about a boy who kills a girl in his class because she rejected him, and of coming up with “silly gimmicks”, calling for more police to be put on the streets (after her government spent 14 years closing police stations and running down the maintenance of those that remained) and for people to be removed who “shouldn’t be here, especially those from cultures where women are treated as third-class citizens” (her whole treatise can be found on Twitter here).

This was quite offensive to me because the type of violence these programmes are intended to prevent has affected my family, and the perpetrator was a white British man, not a member of an ethnic minority, not a Muslim, not a refugee and not an immigrant. Of the 117 women listed in Karen Ingala Smith’s census of women killed by men in 2019, 74 of the named perpetrators had a name consistent with being white British (and many of the others were European, e.g. Polish or Portuguese); in her 2024 list, the ratio was 72 out of 106. Some Muslim names do feature but the overwhelming majority were names consistent with a western or Christian background. (The perpetrator’s ethnicity is recorded only in a minority of cases.) So even if people who are Muslims, immigrants or both are overrepresented in statistics of certain types of sexual violence or of violence against women and girls, the majority of lethal violence against women is still carried out by the majority of the male population, i.e. white men. There has been much research showing that young boys are accessing pornography in their early teens or earlier as a result of gaining access to internet-enabled mobile phones, and that young men develop unhealthy attitudes to sex, believing that women enjoy things they really do not as a result of seeing them pretend to in these films. While it is true that the violence mostly comes from grown men or older teenagers, teaching young boys about the importance of respecting women and girls, of how to treat them properly in relationships and so on, is important, especially if they are going to remain our problem even if they offend because they are our people and cannot be deported. Even among Muslims, there is evidence that they are exposed to many of the same bad influences as boys from western backgrounds: pornography and the aggressive misogyny touted by the likes of Andrew Tate rather than old-fashioned attitudes imported from “back home”.

Femicide Census, the organisation founded by Karen Ingala-Smith to carry on the work started in “Counting Dead Women”, gave a partial welcome to the new initiative, though is critical of the stance that ‘femicide’ excludes partner or family-perpetrated killings. However, the group of feminists who have been loudly opposing transgender rights and self-indentification (Self ID) and have welcomed the Supreme Court ruling on the subject from earlier this year have been noticeably silent on Kemi Badenoch’s ridiculous remarks. I did a search of the Twitter accounts of some of the feminists known for this stance; only Karen Ingala Smith has tweeted anything critical of it (linking to an interview with the MP Jess Phillips). I did a search of the accounts @AjaTheEmpress, @JeanHatchet, @ForWomenScot (the organisation whose litigation led to the aforementioned Supreme Court ruling), @LilyLilyMaynard, @cwknews (Stephanie Davies-Arai), @HelenSaxby11, @HelenStaniland, @bindelj (Julie Bindel), @ripx4nutmeg, @jo_bartosch, @lascapigliata8 (Maja Bowen/Isidora Sanger) and @BluskyeAllison (Allison Bailey) for mention of Badenoch’s last name in the past week or so and I found none. In a couple of cases there was a link to an article by JK Rowling (who founded her own rape support centre in Edinburgh but whose last mention of Badenoch on Twitter was in April), distracting the discussion onto the trans issue. Many of these women have been using arguments about women’s safety in the trans debate and some have other histories of campaigning or at least opinionating about women’s safety, male violence and so on, so one would think they would be critical of a politician trying to slap down a serious effort to challenge violence against women with a stupid deflection onto race. Probably they would have been more than a couple of years ago.

Heartless and bigoted Tories are, of course, nothing new but by and large they were not stupid. This is. In 1975, the former editor of the New Statesman, Paul Johnson, wrote a piece for the magazine castigating what he called the “know-nothing Left” and the way the Labour party had abandoned the Left’s intellectual traditions and embraced the trade union movement: “the arrogant bosses of the TUC, with their faith in the big battalions and the zombie-weight of collective numbers, their contempt for the individual conscience, their invincible materialism, their blind and exclusive class-consciousness, their rejection of theory for pragmatism, their intolerance and their envious loathing of outstanding intellects” (my response to the piece, republished by the NS in 2013, is here). He noted that ‘elite’ and ‘elitist’ were used as insults, and would have readily have been hurled at major socialist intellectuals of the past including Aneurin Bevan. These days, though, we hear the word used most readily by the likes of Matthew Goodwin, who is regularly on TV accusing “elites” of betraying Britain’s popular will, whether it be on Brexit, immigration or anything else. Not billionaires and the politicians that do their bidding, but intellectuals. Right-wing writers and politicians have been fulminating against expert opposition to their demands for a long while: Michael Gove’s claim that the “public are sick of experts” springs to mind, but even back in the Blair/Brown years there was a piece by Melanie Philips proclaiming that the tabloid she wrote for represented the popular will, and it was quite right that the government listened to them (in this case, on the classification of cannabis) rather than to experts when forming policy. Traditional University arts subjects are run down year on year because of the belief that a college education is only good for building earning potential. As a result, we have an elite of uncultured ignoramuses, some of whom can barely string a sentence together (Suella Braverman springs to mind), who are contemptuous of anyone who knows more than they do.

Right now, the know-nothing Right aren’t in power in this country, but Badenoch’s brainless and bigoted response to a much-needed education programme to fight violence against women and girls should have produced a few critical responses from her own party. Ten or twenty years ago, it absolutely would have done. A Google News search reveals, in fact, no significant critical article bar one in the Guardian which quotes a couple of anti-VAWG charity figures; not that long ago, a chorus of disdain from the blogosphere would have accompanied a fair few mainstream media critiques. Someone ignorant enough to think misogyny and violence against women are imported problems, insignificant among the indigenous population, is just too stupid and ignorant to be in the running to be Prime Minister. I wonder if the party has anyone to replace her who has their head screwed on properly, or if the replacement is going to be just another frothing bigot.

Image source: Lajmmoore, via Wikimedia. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike (BY-SA) 4.0 licence.

Introduction

Discussions surrounding a wife’s obedience in marriage are often erroneous and misinformed. Certain scholarly articles online have wrongly attributed to the Hanafi madhhab (school of law) the claim that a wife must obey her husband in all permissible matters; whether something as significant as serving his parents or as trivial as replacing a shampoo cap. This article will explain why such claims are incorrect and will clarify the Hanafi school’s actual position using the most authoritative and widely relied upon books of the school.

When a well-seasoned ustadha—who has been serving and educating women for over two decades—approached me with questions about a wife’s obedience, I was dismayed to find that her understanding and research stemmed from the same online articles. This begs the question: If those who dedicate their lives to educating and supporting women still hold misconceptions about such a fundamental matter, how can we truly serve our sisters?

Fiqh, the Sunnah, and our Dīn are our greatest sources of empowerment; we must reclaim them through sound knowledge and take them from those grounded in authentic scholarship.

Important Points to Keep in Mind

Firstly, it was a challenge to write this article in a way that stays true to scholarly, fiqh-based discussions while considering sisters from all walks of life—especially those who have been wronged through misapplication of the fiqh. Additionally, as someone who teaches a six-month course dedicated to expounding these issues, it is of the utmost importance to me that they are given the attention they deserve—something this article alone cannot fully accomplish. Hence, it is important to acknowledge its limitations: this is merely a technical study on the topic of obedience, not a reflection of Islamic marriage as a whole.

Secondly, before discussing the details of obedience in marriage, it is essential to remember that all rulings in fiqh are subject to the broader maxims of the Sharīʿah (qawāʿid fiqhiyyah) and the principles of usūl al-fiqh. This means that rulings are not absolute in every situation but must be applied within the correct context.

For example:

• A wife does not need her husband’s permission to leave the house if staying poses a threat to her safety.
• She is not obligated to engage in intimacy if it would cause her harm.

These exceptions and others are explicitly mentioned in classical fiqh texts, and demonstrate that Islamic law always considers necessity (ḍarūrah) and harm (ḍarar) when applying rulings. Understanding these nuances ensures that we do not misapply legal rulings in ways that contradict the broader objectives of the Sharīʿah (maqāṣid al-Sharīʿah), which emphasize the preservation of essential interests—religion (dīn), life (nafs), intellect (ʿaql), lineage (nasl), and wealth (māl)—together with consideration of human capacity and the prevention of harm.1

Lastly, as this article focuses solely on the issue of obedience, it does not address a wife’s rights in marriage. Women have rights parallel to and in addition to those of their husbands. Just as a husband has the right to intimacy, so does his wife. She also has the right to privacy and personal space, free from anyone who annoys or harms her. In practice, this means that a husband must ensure his wife’s comfort and consent before bringing guests into shared spaces within the home. These are a few examples, and a comprehensive treatment of a wife’s rights requires deeper exploration beyond the scope of this article.

With these points in mind, we begin the topic at hand: 

Our Beloved Prophet ﷺ said, “If a woman prays her five prayers, fasts her month, guards her chastity, and obeys her husband, she will be told: Enter Paradise from whichever of its gates you wish.”2

This and other narrations like it have been understood literally to mean a wife must obey her husband’s every request. However, fiqh is taken from fuqaha (the jurists/scholars of fiqh) and hadith from muhadithoon (scholars of hadith)3. So, what is the ruling of obeying one’s husband according to the jurists? 

When we go back to the books of fiqh (Islamic law), we find that obedience to the husband is very specific and can be summarized in two points: 

1. Intimacy and what it entails;
2. Permission to leave the house.

According to the Hanafi school, these are the only domains in which obedience is required. The following discussion presents the textual evidence from authoritative Hanafi works that establishes this position.

I. Intimacy

Zayn al-Din ibn Ibrahim ibn Nujaym al-Misri, a distinguished Hanafi jurist, outlines the limits of a wife’s obedience in his authoritative work Bahr al-Ra’iq (The Clear Sea)4. He says: 

“…a woman is not obligated to obey her husband in everything he commands. Rather, obedience is required only in matters of marriage (nikah) and its related aspects, especially if his command would cause her harm…”5

Obedience, therefore, is obligatory only in marriage-related issues. “Marriage” here—i.e., nikāḥ as used by the jurists—“is used literally for sexual relations.6” In other words, in the language of fiqh, the word nikāḥ refers to sexual relations, not merely to the contract or to marriage in general. This is further confirmed in Ibn ‘Abideen’s Hashiyah:

“[Sexual relations] is the meaning of [the word nikāḥ] in the Sharīʿah and in the language.7” 

This is demonstrated by the fiqh rulings. For example, it is imperative to seek the husband’s permission when he is home, and the wife wants to fast a nafl (optional) fast, as this may come in the way of his desire for intimacy. Also, if he asks her to take a ghusl (the obligatory purificatory bath) upon completion of her menstruation in order to be intimate, it would be obligatory upon her to do so, as this relates to his right to intimacy.

The aforementioned explicit text (nass) from the Bahr qualifies all general texts on a wife’s obedience in the Hanafi school. Accordingly, the Hanafis interpret all hadith narrations on a wife’s obedience as referring specifically to intimacy-related matters. 

Likewise, this is affirmed in other major Hanafi works. In Badāʾiʿ al-Ṣanāʾiʿ fī Tartīb al-Sharāʾiʿ (The Marvels of the Crafts in the Arrangement of the Legal Codes), Abū Bakr b. Masʿūd al-Kāsānī (d. 587 AH/1191 CE) says in the chapter on the legal consequences of the marriage contract: 

“Section: The obligation of a wife to obey her husband if he calls her to the bed.

(Section): Among [the legal rulings of marriage] is the wife’s duty to obey her husband if he calls her to the bed.8”

Al-Kāsānī is known for the meticulous detail of his legal analysis. By qualifying obedience specifically to the instance when a wife is called to the marital bed, he indicates that obedience is not intended to be absolute in all matters. Had he understood it as general, he would have simply stated, “Among the consequences of the marriage contract is the wife’s obedience to her husband,” without mentioning any such qualification.

A question may arise here: what about the many other texts that speak of obedience in general terms? Why set those aside in favor of this more specific understanding?

This approach precisely follows the guidelines for issuing fatwas (legal edicts). Muhammad Amin ibn ‘Umar ibn ‘Abideen (d. 1252 AH/1836 CE), known as the “Seal of the Scholarly Verifiers” (خاتم المحققين), outlined these principles in his work ‘Uqud Rasm al-Mufti (The Treatise on the Duties of the Muftī), stating explicitly: “… specifying something in textual transmission implies the negation of anything beyond it.9” 

This means that when an authoritative text qualifies, or places conditions on a general ruling, that qualified ruling becomes the main and definitive position of the madhhab (legal school). It must then be applied consistently, even to other texts that discuss the issue in broader or more general terms.

Hence, no one can argue here that these few texts may not specify the more general texts, as the Bahr al-Raa-iq is an authoritative text and the rules of issuing fatwa (i.e., a formal legal opinion) dictate that this understanding/qualification of obedience is therefore applied to all texts in the Hanafi school10.

II. Permission to Leave the House 

A wife’s obligation to remain in the home unless given permission by her husband to go out is closely connected to the obligation of intimacy, as it is regarded as a means of fulfilling that right.

Imam al-Haskafi says in his al-Durr al-Mukhtar: 

“There is no financial maintenance (nafaqah) for the woman who leaves [her husband’s] house without right…”11

This ruling establishes that if a wife leaves the home without justification, she forfeits her financial rights as a wife, since marital maintenance (nafaqah) is provided in return for her physical presence in the marital home.

There are details to what is considered ‘justified’ in going out, as Imam Ibn ‘Abidīn highlights in his commentary on al-Haskafi’s Durr al-Mukhtar:

[Al-Haskafi’s] statement “so she must not go out, etc.”… meaning: “If she has received (the dowry), then she must not go out, etc.”…According to the apparent implication of the text, if she has received her dowry, she is not allowed to go out—even for necessity or to visit her family without his permission.

However, there are cases where she is permitted to go out, even without his permission12, as mentioned by the commentator (shāriḥ). This is explicitly stated in his commentary on al-Multaqa (The Joining of the Two Seas), citing al-Ashbāh (Analogies and Similar Cases): “Similarly, she may go out if she wishes to perform the obligatory Hajj with a maḥram, or if her father is chronically ill and requires her service, for example…”13

There are also other exceptions to the rule requiring a wife to seek her husband’s permission before going out—such as when she is a midwife or a woman who washes the deceased—as noted by Ibn ʿĀbidīn. The detailed discussion of when a wife must seek permission and when she may go out without it warrants a separate article.

Clarification On Household Duties

Household duties are not from the husband’s rights but may be considered the wife’s responsibility based on customary practice (‘urf) and her socio-economic status.

This is mentioned explicitly by al-Haskafi in his commentary, al-Durr al-Mukhtar (The Chosen Pearl) on Tanweer al-Absaar (The Illumination of Insights):

If the woman refuses to grind flour and bake bread because she is not someone who serves [but is rather served, i.e., has servants], or if she has an illness, then he must provide her with prepared food.

However, if she is someone who normally serves herself and is capable of doing so, then he is not obligated to provide prepared food, and she is not permitted to take payment for it, as it is considered obligatory-religiously (diyānatan) upon her.14

Therefore, this duty is tied to a wife’s socio-economic background. If she comes from a wealthy family with servants and is not accustomed to cooking or performing household tasks, she is not obligated to do so in her marital home; rather, her husband must provide her with prepared food. Conversely, if she is accustomed to serving herself, then cooking becomes obligatory upon her. However, even in such a case, if she is ill or in a state in which she would customarily be cared for—such as during the postpartum period—her husband must provide her with prepared food.

The term “obligatory-religiously” (diyānatan) is used in contrast to “obligatory by law”  (qadaa-an), which is enforceable by the courts. When something is ‘obligatory-religiously’, it still means that she must fulfill it, and failing to do so would be sinful, but it is not enforced by a judge in a court of law. 

This is why household duties are not a “right” of the husband; rather, they fall under personal religious obligations, similar to a wife’s duty to nurse her child or pray witr (according to the Hanafis). These are matters between her and Allah , not something the husband can demand. A key implication of this is that the extent and manner in which she fulfills this obligation—how much she cooks and what she prepares—is her decision, as the duty rests upon her, and does not involve her husband.

Further proof that household duties are not the husband’s right is found in al-Kāsānī’s discussion on the legal consequences of marriage. When listing the obligations of the wife and the rights of the husband, he does not include household tasks such as cooking and cleaning.15

This omission is particularly significant given that al-Kāsānī is highly detailed in this chapter, addressing matters such as inheritance, in-law relations, and even the permission of the spouses to look at and touch one another—yet this so-called “right” is never mentioned.

Conclusion

Misunderstanding obedience in marriage has led to serious consequences. The expectation of absolute obedience places an immense burden on women, resulting in stress, resentment, and, at times, oppressive treatment. For example, some husbands demand that their wives serve their in-laws—visiting their homes to clean—while still maintaining their own homes; a combination that causes significant stress and anxiety. Many women from traditionally rigid fiqh backgrounds who follow this erroneous position find themselves overwhelmed by these supposed “duties.” Sadly, as this has been accepted as the status quo, it is no wonder women are struggling in their marriages, as these expectations are both unrealistic and unfeasible.

Additionally, husbands take their wives’ service for granted, viewing it as an entitlement rather than an act of kindness. Such an understanding can readily lead to an abuse of authority, where the husband’s demands are never-ending, and the wife can never fully satisfy them. This breeds resentment and undermines the very foundation of a healthy marriage.

In conclusion, we see that it is not obligatory to obey one’s husband in matters related to in-laws16, guests, or yes—even the shampoo bottle cap. The reality, as defined by the fuqaha (jurists), grants women far more autonomy than is commonly assumed. The correct understanding of obedience, rooted in legal texts, safeguards against the misuse of religious rulings to justify control, suppression, and injustice. 

As scholars have long emphasized, “rights are for the courts and the miserly,” whereas true companionship is grounded in the sublime Sunnah of our Beloved Prophet ﷺ and his Noble Family; sunnahs of mutual kindness and iḥsān (excellence). Just as a wife is expected to help fulfill not only her husband’s needs but also his preferences, he is equally expected to support hers, honoring her hopes and aspirations beyond mere needs. Ultimately, a marriage that focuses solely on rights and obligations—without regard for each other’s hopes and aspirations—may be doomed to failure or misery.

May Allah grant us the success and ability to follow the Sunnah in our marriages and bless them with love and mercy.

والحمد لله ربّ العالمين

 

Related:

– Podcast | Happily Ever After (Ep 2) – What Are The Limits Of Wifely Obedience?

– A Primer On Intimacy And Fulfillment Of A Wife’s Desires Based On The Writings Of Scholars Of The Past

 

 

1    Human capacity means that obligations only apply within a person’s ability. For example, if one can’t pray standing, she sits. 2    Ahmad ibn Hanbal, Musnad Ahmad, Hadith no. 1661. 3     In a well known narration, Imam al-A‘mash, the exegete and hadith scholar, says to Imam Abu Hanifa, the jurist and founder of the madhhab: “O group of jurists, you are the doctors, and we are the pharmacists.”4    Zain al-Din Ibn Ibrahim Ibn Muhammad Ibn Nujaym (d. 970 AH/1563 CE), Bahr al-Ra’iq (The Clear Sea) is a commentary on Kanz al-Daqaa’iq (The Treasure of Subtleties), one of the foundational texts of the Hanafi school by Abū al-Barakāt ʿAbd Allāh b. Aḥmad al-Nasafī (d. 710/1310), a prominent Hanafi scholar.5    Ibn Nujaym, Al-Bahr al-Ra’iq Sharh Kanz al-Daqa’iq, vol. 5, p. 77, Dar al-Kitab al-Islami, 3rd ed.6    ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn al-Ḥaṣkafī, Al-Durr al-Mukhtār Sharḥ Tanwīr al-Abṣār (The Chosen Pearl on The Illumination of Insights), vol. 3, p. 5, Muṣṭafā al-Bābī al-Ḥalabī, 3rd ed., 1984.7    Ibn ʿĀbidīn, Ḥāshiyat Radd al-Muḥtār ʿalā al-Durr al-Mukhtār Sharḥ Tanwīr al-Abṣār, vol. 3, p. 5, Muṣṭafā al-Bābī al-Ḥalabī, 3rd ed., 1984.8    Abū Bakr b. Masʿūd al-Kasani, Badāʾiʿ al-Ṣanāʾiʿ fī Tartīb al-Sharāʾiʿ, vol. 3, p. 613, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2nd ed., 2003.9    Muhammad Ameen Ibn Umar Ibn ‘Abideen, Majmu’atu Rasaa-il Ibn ‘Abideen, quoting Ghayat al-Bayan, p. 41 (Beirut: Dar Ihya al-Turath al-Arabi, n.d.).10    A more detailed explanation of intimacy and its conditions will be covered in another article, in shā’ Allāh.11    Al-Ḥaṣkafī, Al-Durr al-Mukhtār, vol. 3, p. 604-5.12    Emphasis added.13    Ibn ‘Abideen, Ḥāshiyat, vol. 3, p.154.14    Al-Ḥaṣkafī, Al-Durr al-Mukhtār, vol. 3, p. 608.15    Al-Kāsānī, Badāʾiʿ al-Ṣanāʾiʿ, vol. 3, p. 605.16    . When it comes to significant matters that affect both spouses, such as in-laws and family dynamics, both partners must exercise due consideration to ensure that each feels valued and fulfilled. Neglecting this balance can lead to resentment, ultimately undermining the maqāṣid (higher objectives) of the Sacred Law in fostering a stable and harmonious marriage.

The post The Limits Of Obedience In Marriage: A Hanafi Legal Perspective appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Israeli interrogator denailed the prisoners’ fingernails to elicit a confession forcibly.

A brutal childhood under a violent father forges young Darius into a skilled fighter, setting the stage for a life shaped by hardship, survival, and a search for meaning.

* * *

Author’s Preface

I woke up recently with the idea for this story in my head, and immediately sat down and began to write. Maybe it was a dream I had, I don’t know. I’ve never been short of ideas, alhamdulillah. I have more ideas than I know what to do with.

If you’re a long-time reader of mine, you’ve noticed that my early novels focused heavily on action and international intrigue. Later stories, such as Day of the Dogs, The Things He Would Say, and the most recently completed Moonshot, were more about family dynamics. All That Is In The Heavens is, of course, straight-up sci-fi. I do plan to return to that, by the way.

I like changing things up. I’m not one of those writers who churns out dozens of novels based on a single formula. Maybe I should be, since some of those authors make a lot of money. Speaking of which, I met Danielle Steele once at a charity auction at Fort Mason in San Francisco, and bought her old antique typewriter. Another time, I made a delivery to her mansion, which occupies an entire block in Pacific Heights. There’s someone who took a formula and alchemized it into pure gold.

But no, I prefer to push myself and explore new fictional territory. This next story is a first. I hesitate to call it a fable. It is based in the real world, and rooted in the culture and historical circumstances of 1700’s rural China, featuring a Hui Muslim family. The Hui are an East Asian ethno-religious group that is predominantly Muslim. Today, the official Chinese census says there are 10 million of them. They are not segregated, but live intermixed with Han Chinese, and their practice of Islam tends to be low-key.

I did a lot of research to keep the story historically accurate. However, I never name China as such.

The narrator’s tone is brutally honest yet distant, as if narrating these events from a time many years removed. As such, it is not extremely detailed. That’s why I almost call it a fable.

It won’t be a full novel. Maybe 20,000 words, of which 10,000 are already written. Eight to ten chapters. I hope you enjoy it. – Wael Abdelgawad, Author

* * *

Father and Son

When my father, whose name was Yong Lee, wasn’t in prison, he taught me to fight and to steal. He was a small man and a drunkard, and he treated my sweet mother badly. I despised him. When Mother died of a breathing disease, all I could think was that instead of taking me with her into the realm of silence, she had left me behind. I was seven years old. I remember that I cried for many days, and struck my father, blaming him for Mother’s death. He was a violent man, yet, when I hit him he did not react.

Someone had taught my father to fight very well – not street brawling, but a fighting style that he called Five Animals, that consisted of rapid, fluid movements, deep stances, dramatic leaps and kicks, and the use of the spear and sword.

The sword was curved, single-edged, and about as long as my young arm. My father called it a dao. He had long since sold his genuine dao to buy wine, but he’d made two replicas out of hardwood, and a pair of spears as well. We owned a small rice paddy that had gone to seed, and was a rat-filled nest of weeds and mud. My father would take me out to the paddy and run me through dao and spear forms, and then we would fight. He was not gentle, and by the end of the session I was always bleeding and bruised.

Failed Defiance

One time, I defied him, throwing down the dao and screaming that I hated him and would not do it anymore. He seized my shirt with both hands and put his face very close to mine. His breath reeked of wine. “This is the only thing of worth I have to give you, Darius,” he said. “You will take it, or I will kill you, then kill myself.”

I believed him, and I never refused to train after that.

Once, when we went into town to steal, the Mayor approached us. He looked me up and down – my ragged clothes, split lip, cut cheek, and a gash on my arm – and told my father plainly that if he did not treat me better, they would take me away and send me to live with my aunt. This was the first time I knew that I had an aunt.

My father raged that the Mayor could not do that. The Mayor cowered, for everyone knew my father’s fighting prowess, but to his credit, he held his ground and said that he would do it anyway. After that, my father treated me a little better, for though he still forced me to train, he did so less violently.

My father stole food from local vendors, cheated at card games, and picked pockets. He excelled at these things, and on the rare occasions he was caught, the locals would decline to press charges, for they knew my father’s temper and abilities.

In the town there was a temple with a great statue, and the people went there to pray, meditate, and leave offerings. My father scoffed at this, saying these people were brainless idiots, and he would sooner stab himself in the eye than waste his time and money on a hunk of bronze that could not see, speak, nor even defend itself. “The only one to worship is Allah,” he said, but when I asked him about the meaning of this word, and who was Allah, and where was his temple, my father fell mute.

Wake Up Hungry, Sleep Hungry

My father was not foolish enough to steal from nobles, but some traveling nobles dressed plainly so that you did not know their status, and every now and then, my father would be caught stealing from such a one; or from a traveling businessman or functionary. These people had no fear of him and always pressed charges, whereupon my father would be whipped and sent to prison.

Whenever this happened, I was left to fend for myself. After seeing my father whipped, I was not brave enough to pick pockets, so I confined myself to going out at night and stealing corn, potatoes, and tomatoes from local farms. The amounts I stole were so small that either no one noticed or they pretended not to, for they feared my father even in his absence. When I was younger, I had sometimes helped my mother cook, and I knew enough to boil the vegetables, which I ate plain with a bit of salt.

I was very thin, and my clothes were so tattered they were nearly falling off. I was lonely, but I did not despair. My days of crying myself to sleep were long past, and I knew my father would return. I did not know how far away the prison was, but I did not feel that my father was far away. His presence was commanding and inescapable, even in his absence. In addition, I was long since used to waking hungry and sleeping hungry. To me, it was a normal state of existence, and in fac,t I could not imagine what it might be like to have companionship and a belly full of food.

Hiding

Three times, the Mayor and a few others came to the house looking for me, but each time I hid. I barred the door with a chair, doused the candle, and crawled beneath the straw mattress, which was silly because if they managed to enter they would see my form anyway. I held my breath and watched the movement of shadows beneath the door as the men stood outside calling, “Darius Lee!” But they did not enter, for they knew better than to enter the house of Yong Lee without permission, even in his absence. Eventually, they went away.

I did not know if they wanted to punish me for stealing, or to send me to live with my aunt. I did not want to be sent away. Though I hated my father, I also loved him and missed him. I cannot explain this except to say that he was all I knew, and I felt a strange loyalty to him. He had spent countless hours teaching me Five Animals style, and though he was brutal, it was personal and intense. In his twisted way he cared about me and perhaps even loved me, though he had never expressed such a thing, and I had only ever heard that word – love – from my mother.

There was an enemy invading our lands from the south. It was said that they came on great ships, and wore armor of a kind our weapons could not penetrate. Wherever they went, they massacred our people and burned our homes. They were said to be tall and ivory-skinned, and fought with long, straight swords. I had never seen such a person, and could not imagine why they wanted our hardscrabble rice and corn fields. But every time I went into town to beg for a little money to buy salt, I saw more and more refugees either passing through or living in shacks on the outskirts of town.

There were posters in the shop windows. I knew how to read and write, as my dear mother had taught me. The posters said that anyone who volunteered to fight the invaders would be paid five gold pieces upon inscription, and one gold piece a month. The minimum age was fifteen, however, and at that time I was only eleven.

Return

My father came home from prison. He’d always been a strong and hard man, yet he returned from prison with new scars, and a terrible rage in his eyes. I thought he might take his anger out on me, in training, but when he saw my condition – I was so thin that my cheeks were hollow and my ribs protruded – he squatted down, covered his face, and wept. I had never seen my father crying, and did not know what to do. Torn between comforting him – how would I do that exactly? – and walking away to preserve his dignity, I sat down in front of him and said nothing. He suddenly seized me. I tensed up, ready to fight or flee, but he only embraced me and whispered, “I am sorry.” At this, I did flee, for it confused and saddened me more than all the beatings.

My father had quit drinking. He was not an affectionate man, and he still stole from time to time – but our training, though still exhausting, was no longer bloody. Furthermore, he began working the land. He would wake me up at dawn, and we would labor and sweat, clearing weeds, planting peanuts, and fertilizing. My father worked feverishly, as hard as any horse or donkey, and I understood that this was his way of pouring out of himself the terrible anger that – like a horse carrying a millstone – he had carried home from prison.

When the first peanut crop came in, he took me into town, where we sold the crop to a merchant. Then he took me to an eatery, where we sat at a table like normal citizens. My father ordered a huge quantity of food, and we gorged ourselves on rice, beef, green beans, sesame buns, bean cake, broccoli, and egg noodles. I had never even tasted some of these things.

When we could eat no more, my stomach felt like it would burst. I felt sleepy and content for the first time in many years. “So,” I thought. “This is what it’s like to be full.” I felt something I could not identify, which I later came to understand was contentment, and it frightened me because I knew it could not and would not last.

Infestation and Enlistment

My fear was premonitory. An infestation of rats destroyed our crop, and we were left destitute. My father stomped through the field, hacking at the rats with a plow and screaming foul words. He seemed not angry but despairing, and this shocked me, as I had never imagined my father this way.

The next day, he went into town by himself. I was afraid he had gone to drink and would return to beat me as in the past, but no. When he returned, he wore a scabbard hanging from his hip. He sat me down and handed me a small purse. I looked inside and saw five gold pieces, shining like the sunrise. “I have enlisted to fight the invaders,” he told me. “With this money you can buy traps and poison to kill the rats, then plant a new crop. You know how to raise the crop, how to harvest, and where to sell it. You will be fine. I will send my salary home to you.”

Then he removed the scabbard from his hip and drew a shining steel dao with a razor-sharp edge and a pommel wrapped in green cord. He re-sheathed it and handed it to me with both hands. “I bought this for you,” he said. “Never let anyone take what is yours.”

I begged my father not to go. I debased myself, throwing myself on the ground, crying and clutching his legs. But he left.

Robbers

I killed the rats and planted the crop. I lived simply, never wanting to let anyone know of the gold I had. The dao remained with me at all times, on my back when I worked in the fields, and by my side as I slept. At times, I took it out and practiced. It was lighter than the wooden version I had trained with, and was very sharp. Once, I cut my own thigh by accident. The cut became infected, and I passed two days in a fever, thrashing on the little straw-stuffed mattress, until I got up and dragged myself to the medicine man in the village. He cleaned my wound and slathered it with something sweet-smelling, and I paid in gold, receiving some silver and copper coins in return.

That night, two men broke into my house seeking the gold. They were young, rough-looking men who wore no masks, and were armed only with knives. I was still unsteady on my feet. Nevertheless, I drew my dao. The men laughed. “A boy with a shiny toy,” one said. “That will soon be mine.” He lunged at me with a knife. I parried it easily with the dao, and in a single smooth motion, thrust the sword into his throat. The other, shocked, took a step back. When I went after him, he threw the knife at me. I dodged it, then leaped forward and slashed him across the belly. Clutching his hands to his belly, he turned and stumbled away, and I let him go.

Evil Banners

The floor of the house was no more than baked earth, and was now stained heavily with blood. I went out to fetch a bucket of water from our small well, to clean the floor, and saw a blood trail from the second man leading into the peanut field. I found his dead body in the field, his hands still clutching his belly as his entrails hung out like evil banners, and a portent of bad things to come.

Leaving the man in the field for the moment, I scrubbed the floors inside. Seeing in my mind the point of the sword entering the man’s throat, remembering the slight resistance as it penetrated, I vomited, then cleaned that up as well.

Then I dug a deep hole in the field and buried both men. This took two days of labor, as I had to use a pickaxe to get through a layer of limestone and shale. When it was done, I collapsed into bed and slept for three days and nights, waking only to drink water. When I recovered, my leg wound had healed. No one ever came to ask about the dead robbers.

New Songs

I continued to practice with the dao. I cycled through all the moves my father had taught me, then improvised. If movement were a song, then I broke the words apart and put them back together in random ways, creating new songs that sometimes made no sense, and other times struck my own soul like gongs, leaving it shivering. I cut myself a few more times, but not seriously, until there came a point where that was no longer a concern. The dao was part of me. I would no more cut myself with it than I would poke myself in the eye, or punch myself in the stomach.

My father had taught me to count the days from planting, and harvest the peanuts at 130 days. The crop came in full and heavy, and I sold it for a good price. While I was in town, I went to see the Mayor. My father had said he would send my salary, but it had not arrived.

* * *

 

Come back next week for Part 2 – Alone

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:

Zaid Karim, Private Investigator, Part 1 – Temptation

No, My Son | A Short Story

 

The post Far Away [Part 1] – Five Animals appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Last weekend I saw a set of pictures on Instagram with the lead picture containing the headline “The Ten Most Dangerous Logical Fallacies”. The author, Sahil Bloom (author of a book called The Five Types of Wealth), does not explain why they are more dangerous than any other; these are just ten of the best-known or perhaps most common. They include ad hominem, straw man, appeal to authority, false dilemmas, hasty generalisations and the “fallacy fallacy”, i.e. thinking you’ve disproved someone’s argument because you’ve identified a fallacy. He also includes the “sunk cost fallacy”, continuing to expend money or effort on something because of the money or effort already expended, when “smart people” cut their losses; this is a major reason why scam victims continue to engage at their own loss after they start to suspect that they are being scammed, but it’s not relevant to the context in which the other fallacies listed are commonly used. However, the fallacy I want to discuss is “tu quoque” (“and you too”), also known as the “appeal to hypocrisy”, because it is often invoked in contexts in which the argument is in fact quite valid.

Tu quoque is illustrated by a man holding a bottle of beer, telling another man “you are not morally correct because you smoke”. The other man starts to reply “but …”. It’s a trivial example that illustrates how the fallacy works, but it also illustrates why it can sometimes be used validly. Smoking is something people often get addicted to when they are young, because their friends do it and they do it to fit in; tobacco smoke also smells bad to anyone not used to it and both the plant and the smoke contain chemicals which cause a number of diseases, mostly but not exclusively to the smoker. Many smokers nowadays do things to mitigate the effects to others, such as only smoking outside (it is banned in enclosed public spaces in the UK nowadays). Alcohol can also be harmful: it makes people drunk after a glass or two, often too drunk to drive safely, and affects their behaviour, making them uninhibited or violent. Western society considers a moderate drinker to be more “morally correct” than a smoker, but a hard drinker (including someone who might be found drinking at work, as that picture suggests) more of a danger. Someone applying for a sensitive job, such as a teacher, who was a smoker who only smoked outdoors would stand a better chance than a problem drinker, even though the drinker didn’t smell of smoke. (If drinking at all is a sin in your religion, as it is in mine, someone who is known to drink will be excluded from consideration altogether, and may be ostracised.)

And this last point illustrates why this line of argument often is no fallacy. It is a fallacy in a pure, academic moral exercise, but the world is not like that. In the real world, the accuser’s flaws might well be relevant. In an election campaign, for example, a candidate might be making loud criticisms of his opponent’s character but be just as guilty of some of them himself, or of others, and this would directly affect his competence or suitability for the job, so it is entirely valid for the opponent or his supporters to point it out. It might not make the thing he is accused of right, but if the accuser is worse, it might not make him a worse candidate. If a country is gearing up for war, criticisms of their enemy might include that he rigs elections, is corrupt, or is repressive and has people summarily executed or tortured, and the fact that other countries do the same does not make any of those things right either, but if some of those countries are our allies and we are not making any threats towards them, it clearly shows that human rights are not the reason for the war. Whether the war is justified or not, the debate needs to be had, and to be had honestly.

In other contexts, “tu quoque” fails as an argument. When someone is apprehended for a crime, it is no defence to argue that someone else has done the same, or worse, and is not being prosecuted. Sometimes this is fair, sometimes not; if the offence is drug possession, and the person arrested was arrested as a result of a racially-motivated stop and search while people with another skin colour use the same drugs freely, that is obviously unjust and racist, but if the offence is something that causes great harm, like rape, the unfairness is of no importance; taking one rapist off the streets is vital, even if it is in no way preferable to taking off two. It has sometimes been used as a defence in war crimes trials, where officials from the defeated power are tried at the behest of victors who have perpetrated other crimes in other wars, or in their colonial empires, but invariably rejected because the crimes in question were heinous and they were arrested when their attempt to seize their neighbours’ countries failed.

The same set of pictures includes a slide on the “appeal to authority” fallacy and this, too, sometimes has valid uses: 

The person uses an expert’s opinion as proof, without any supporting evidence. Experts can inform your thinking, but they generally shouldn’t replace it. People often hide behind credentials when logic runs out.

The problem here is that expert opinion is all that the average person has to go on when talking about things that are beyond their expertise. The average person might assume that one summer is the direct result of man-climate change, or that a cold winter disproves it; they often do not even know what constitutes ‘evidence’ and what is irrelevant. The fact is that the majority of the world’s climate scientists are of the opinion that man-made climate change, caused by burning too much fossil fuel too quickly while destroying the rainforests for logging and farming, is real; to state that is not a fallacy because the authority is real. What is a fallacy is when people cite dissenting studies to explain away a scientific consensus that is inconvenient to them, because it would require them to change their behaviour or might affect their business or other personal circumstances. They will often say “this scientist says …” or “this expert says …” without considering that he is the wrong type of scientist or expert, and is at variance with sometimes an overwhelming majority of qualified scholarly opinion.

In short, there are sometimes good reasons to use arguments that, in an academic context, are fallacies. Sometimes the character of one’s opponent is relevant, sometimes it matters that the accuser is just as guilty as the accused, sometimes it matters that the ‘offending’ behaviour is normal (though sometimes it does not), and sometimes we need to rely on experts rather than our own perceptions; even when the argument is not valid in itself, it does open a window on another injustice. We use arguments not for their own sake, but to advance a cause or to prevent harm being done. The world is not an academic exercise in moral philosophy, and we cannot and should not always behave as if it is.

Image source: Sahil Bloom, via Instagram.

At least three children have died of hypothermia due to Israel’s continued refusal to allow in necessary shelters and materials.

For most families, “returning home” means pitching tents beside the ruins of their houses.

Annual awards ceremony brings in big money from Murdoch-owned media.

Gaza’s fishing sector, once a crucial source of livelihoods, is operating at just 7.3 percent of its pre-genocide capacity.

Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib’s Gaza genocide resolution stirs ire of AIPAC.

How Ahmed al-Ahmed’s selfless intervention at Bondi Beach exposed the lie of stereotypes and showed the highest expression of Islamic faith in action.

Going Out For Coffee

On the evening of Sunday, December 14, Bondi Beach was crowded in the way only a summer Sunday allows. Thousands of people filled the promenade and shoreline, lingering at the end of the weekend. Among them were hundreds gathered for Chanukah by the Sea, a public celebration marking the beginning of the eight-day Hanukkah festival, held in a small park just off the beachfront.

Ahmed al-Ahmed was there for a far more ordinary reason. He had gone to Bondi with a friend for coffee. A simple plan. An unremarkable outing. Ahmed was not attending the celebration, not looking for spectacle, and certainly not expecting violence.

Ahmed is 43 years old, a Syrian immigrant from the town of Idlib, who arrived in Australia in 2006. Over nearly two decades, he built a life through patience and work. He became an Australian citizen, opened and ran a small convenience and tobacco store, married, and became the father of two young daughters, aged three and six. His parents, long separated from him by war and displacement, had only recently been able to reunite with him in Sydney.

Shots Across The Sand

Shortly after 6:45 pm, the ordinary rhythm of Bondi Beach shattered.

Witnesses reported that two gunmen opened fire from an elevated footbridge leading toward the beach. Shots echoed across the sand. Video footage later showed people in swimwear sprinting for cover, scattering across open ground with nowhere to hide. Panic spread instantly. Parents grabbed children. Strangers dropped flat. The attack continued for several minutes before police were able to intervene.

Ahmed and his friend arrived to scenes of chaos.

Speaking to Australia’s ABC, Ahmed’s father, Mohamed Fateh al-Ahmed, said his son was shocked by what he saw when they reached the area. Armed men firing into crowds. People lying on the ground. Blood visible on the pavement.

“Their lives were in danger,” his father said. “He noticed one of the armed men at a distance.”

According to the family, Ahmed saw people lying wounded on the ground, some bleeding heavily. At that point, calculation gave way to instinct, and perhaps to training as well, as reports say that Ahmed had been a policeman in his native Syria.

“When he saw people laying on the ground and the blood everywhere,” his father said, “immediately his conscience and his soul compelled him to pounce on one of the terrorists and rid him of his weapon.”

Making A Move

A screenshot shows Ahmed Al-Ahmed wrestling with one of the shooters.

At some point during the attack, Ahmed began sneaking up on one of the gunmen. Reports say that the attacker had momentarily exhausted his ammunition, but I have watched the video several times and there was no indication of that. Rather, it appears that Ahmed crept up between two parked cars, and – as the shooter was still actively firing – charged him from the side.

He charged the attacker unarmed, and wrestled with him for control of the rifle. The shooter fell to the ground, leaving Ahmed in control of the weapon. Again, reports say that during the struggle, Ahmed was shot several times in the shoulder, but I do not see that in the video. Rather, it appears that he was unharmed during the struggle, which leads me to believe that he was then shot by the other attacker, who was still firing from atop a bridge nearby. But this is speculation.

In any case he was shot in the hand and four to five times in the shoulder, with some of the bullets still lodged inside his body, according to his parents. He was rushed to hospital and underwent emergency surgery.

In the hours that followed, family members described the toll the injuries had taken. Jozay, a cousin of Ahmed, said that he was recovering from his first surgery and had two more operations still to come. “He took a lot of medication, he can’t speak well,” Jozay said after leaving the hospital on Monday evening.

Couldn’t Bear To See People Dying

Another cousin, Mustafa al-Asaad, told the Al Araby television network that Ahmed’s intervention was not driven by anger or impulse, but by something deeper.

“When he saw people dying and their families being shot, he couldn’t bear to see people dying,” Mustafa said.

“It was a humanitarian act, more than anything else. It was a matter of conscience. He’s very proud that he saved even one life.”

Mustafa recalled Ahmed explaining the moment in simple terms.

“When he saw this scene, people dying of gunfire, he told me, ‘I couldn’t bear this. God gave me strength. I believe I’m going to stop this person killing people.’”

The attack ended. Many lives were lost, but – without a doubt – many lives were also saved by Ahmed’s heroic actions.

What Would You Do?

It’s easy to call someone a hero after the fact. It is much harder to grasp what such a moment actually demands. Which raises a question that should unsettle us.

What would you do in that situation? What would I do?

I am a trained martial artist. I have spent years in classes gaming out scenarios exactly like this. How to tackle an active shooter, how to control the weapon, how to disable the shooter and create distance. But class training is one thing. Seeing it happen in real life, with the noise of the shots, the screams, the chaos, is something else altogether. I like to believe I would act courageously. I like to believe training and moral conviction would carry me forward. But only Allah knows.

Because this is the reality: if the shooter had spotted Ahmed’s approach – if he’d caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye – and turned – Ahmed would be dead. He’d be shot dead in the parking lot, leaving his two young daughters without a father. And he undoubtedly knew that. Think about that.

None of us truly knows what choice we will make until we are confronted, face to face, with that level of evil. Training, faith and strength of character all help. But certainty only arrives when fear, instinct, and conscience collide in real time.

Ahmed al-Ahmed does not have to imagine.

When asked about his actions, he expressed no regret. He did not speak of bravery or heroism. I cannot speak to his specific religious convictions, as the reports do not mention this. He might be a Sunni, Shiah or Alawi. He might be practicing or not. But he bears the name of our beloved Prophet (s), and he gave the credit for his actions – as any believer would – to Allah, saying that God granted him courage.

Ahmed’s father emphasized that his son’s decision was not shaped by identity or affiliation.

“When he did what he did, he wasn’t thinking about the background of the people he’s saving, the people dying in the street,” Mohamed Fateh al-Ahmed said. “He doesn’t discriminate between one nationality and another. Especially here in Australia, there’s no difference between one citizen and another.”

A Grim Irony

There is, however, a grim irony that cannot be ignored.

Authorities later confirmed that the attackers were also Muslim immigrants. This fact, widely reported, inevitably stirred anxiety within Muslim communities already accustomed to collective suspicion.

The man that Ahmed wrested with and disarmed was named Sajid Akram. He was 50 years old, originally from Pakistan.

Here, on the same beach, in the same violent moment, stood two radically different representations of what it means to invoke Islam.

On one side, a profound betrayal of faith. A reduction of religion to grievance, rage, and indiscriminate murder. On the other, the apex of faithful action, a man who ran toward gunfire to protect strangers, including members of another religious community, without hesitation and without calculation.

Have we, in recent memory, seen a clearer reminder that no group is monolithic? That no religion, race, or nation can be reduced to its worst representatives? That Islam can be invoked as a pretext for horror, or lived as a shield for others?

Whoever Saves One Life

Chris Mims, New South Wales premier, visits with Ahmed Al-Ahmed.

In the days that followed, public gratitude poured in. Political leaders visited Ahmed in hospital. Fundraisers raised extraordinary sums (over a million dollars, it is said) to support his recovery and his family. Officials credited his intervention with saving lives.

For Muslims, the value of a life saved is not dependent on that person’s faith, character, nationality or identity, for Allah tells us in the Quran:

“Whoever saves one life, it is as if he has saved the lives of all humankind.” (Quran 5:32)

This is especially true when you save a stranger. By saving the life of someone you don’t know, you have symbolically saved the life of anyone and everyone. Ahmed Al-Ahmed, therefore, saved my life and yours, as well as that of everyone else in the world.

Let’s Choose Our Own Heroes

This is an age when Western entertainment culture is relentless in shaping our imagination of heroism, trying to force its own imprint onto our brains. The hero is a mythical Norse god wielding lightning, a billionaire playboy in an iron suit, a Superman wrapped in red, white, and blue. These figures are entertaining, but they are not moral templates.

We already have heroes.

At the dawn of Islam, we have the sahabah. Hamzah ibn AbdulMuttalib at Badr. Nusaibah bint Kaab, Musab bin Umair and Talhah bin Ubaidullah at Uhud. Salman al-Farisi, Ali ibn Abi Talib, and Hudhaifah ibn al-Yaman at Khandaq. And any others. Men and women whose courage was inseparable from humility, restraint, and devotion to Allah and His Messenger.

In the modern age, we must choose our heroes as well. Not from movie screens or marketing campaigns, but from real human beings who act rightly when it costs them dearly.

Ahmed al-Ahmed is one such hero. No, I’m not comparing him to the sahabah. But we do not live in the time of the sahabah. We live in an age of runaway technology, overhwelming mass media, and widespread oppression and corruption. We must laud our heroes when they appear.

Ahmed is not a hero because he is flawless. Again, I know little about his personal relgious convictions. He is a hero because, in one decisive moment, he chose other poeople’s lives over his own safety, conscience over calculation, and mercy over self-preservation.

Sources

• • ABC News (Australia)
    Interviews with Ahmed al-Ahmed’s father Mohamed Fateh al-Ahmed regarding the events at Bondi Beach, Ahmed’s injuries, and his motivations.

  • News.com.au
    Reporting on Ahmed al-Ahmed’s background, injuries, surgeries, and public response following the Bondi Beach attack.

  • NSW Police Force Media Releases
    Official statements on the Bondi Beach public place shooting, timeline of events, and police intervention.

  • The Guardian (Australia)
    Coverage of the Bondi Beach attack, investigation details, and confirmation of the attackers’ identities.

  • SBS News (Australia)
    Reporting on Ahmed al-Ahmed’s medical condition, recovery, and statements attributed to family members.

  • Al Araby Television Network
    Interview with Ahmed’s cousin Mustafa al-Asaad describing Ahmed’s actions as a humanitarian act and a matter of conscience.

Related:

A War Hero Comes For Taraweeh – The Remarkable Story Of Hajjah Hasna al-Hariri

Do You Know These Heroes of Eid?

The post Ahmed al-Ahmed and the Meaning of Courage appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Cair claims in lawsuit that Florida governor’s order blocking group from state resources was unconstitutional

A leading Muslim civil rights group in the US has sued Ron DeSantis, the Florida governor, over his order designating it and another organization as a “foreign terrorist organization”, saying the directive was unconstitutional.

The Council on American-Islamic Relations, known as Cair, has more than 20 chapters across the United States and its work involves legal actions, advocacy and education outreach.

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We talk to producer Laila Al-Arian about media coverage of Palestine and new Al Jazeera film “Target Tehran.” Resistance in West Bank, university purges and more.

Interfaith groups share messages of love, unity and ‘deep heartbreak and condolences’ in the wake of antisemitic mass shooting

• Full report: Bondi terror attack

• Victims of Bondi beach shooting

• What we know so far about the Bondi terror attack

About 24 hours after terror was unleashed on Sydney’s Bondi beach, Rabbi Jeffrey Kamins stood in the city’s Hyde Park and delivered a message of unity.

“So many in our Jewish community have received messages of love from leaders in different faith communities, from Palestinian friends and friends around this country, and in so doing, we are now learning we are all just flesh and blood, and we are all also the light,” he said.

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Unable to return to their homes behind Israel’s “yellow line,” Gaza’s displaced must endure winter downpours in tents.