The Shi'a Condition

How do you see the Ahlul Bayt (as)? Are they perpetual victims in your eyes? Are they defined by the oppression they faced, the blood they spilled, the tears they shed? Or do you see them as eternal victors? Do you see their oppression, blood, and tears as the vehicles through which they triumphed over tyranny? When we listen to the tales of their tribulations, what emotions arise—sorrow, anguish, ire? Or maybe it’s admiration, hope, pride?

Their stories evoke the gamut of emotions within us; this is the essence of Ahlul Bayt (as)—they were the most extraordinary people in history yet they lived the simplest lives, and they are able to penetrate our souls so effortlessly. When you cry for any member of the Ahlul Bayt (as), do you cry because a bloody and tragic story is being relayed so passionately? Or maybe you cry humbled, knowing that regardless of the meager sacrifices we make (which seem so great to our selfish sensibilities), they can never match up to one iota of theirs?

Or maybe, just maybe, you cry because their sadness makes you realize the utter destitution of the human condition; those favored by Allah (swt) have suffered at the hands of other people—people like us. We like to think we would be with Ahlul Bayt (as)—exhibiting the bravery of Imam Hussein’s companions as opposed to the cowardice of the people of Kufa—but then we realize the sad truth. We would not be with them; rather, we would watch them suffer, and it would tear us apart, but we would do nothing. The stark reality is that our worldly lives are too important to risk. It is the Kufans who were the real cause of Imam Hussein’s demise, more so than the accursed Shimr.

But this is a moot point. It happened, and we are willing to cry for it, not learn from it. “Everyday is Ashura and every land is Karbala” has become a euphemism for the permanent state of mourning into which we have thrown ourselves. To us, Ashura was a tragedy, not a revolution.

How can I say such harsh things? It’s simple: we sit back and watch this oppression everyday with anger, sympathy, sadness, and helplessness. But we watch; “watch” is our verb, our action word. Ayatullah Khomeini (ra) once said that there are two types of people in this world: the oppressed and the oppressors. We are the oppressed, and we are the oppressors. We like to focus on the former, blaming everything and everyone but ourselves for our condition. Being a victim is painful, but that pain is too easy compared to facing the flip-side of our cruel, self-inflicted reality. Each and everyday we contribute—in some way, in some form—to oppression. I do not exclude myself from this, and I am humbled and ashamed by it.

Today, where do Shi’as stand? Are we a people who worship with our emotions alone? We have built up these traditions and institutions of demagoguery, and we are so intent upon preserving them that we cannot see any flaws in our ways. We have strayed from the path of Ahlul Bayt (as), and this is the source of the problem. Are we a people who have lost all interest in bearing the standard of Ahlul Bayt (as)? Not the tear-stained standard of sadness, but the blood-and-sweat-stained standard of victory. That is their legacy. Are we able (i.e. willing) to let go of our perpetual victim-hood and move forward with a mission and a message, or will we remain mired in moroseness?

The choice is ours…

Zeinab Chami

A Strong Mission Gives Good Results

I thought I would share this with some of the aspiring youth activists and organizers. This group came up with a beautiful charter which includes a mission, vision, etc. They put some hard work into it. I do hope they succeed in the endeavors. I know they will! Good job brothers!

Mission Statement (Bayaan Al-Muhima):

We are a youth-based Islamic brotherhood working to better the condition of our Ummah in the absence of the awaited savior, Imam Al-Mehdi [aj]. We seek to serve his ultimate mission of establishing peace and justice among humanity through self-building and encouraging socio-communal progress.

Vision (Ro‘iya):

We aim to build strong Islamic role models, valuable contributors to society and quality leaders within our brotherhood by providing a forum for mentorship, innovative religious activities, and community service. This will ultimately lead to a strong faith-based community.

Goals: (Ahdaaf)

1. Provide community service opportunities for the young Muslim brothers offered through local institutions, mosques, and organizations.
2. Proactive outreach initiatives to attract the young Muslim brothers of the community into faith.
3. Hold recreational programming including outdoor activities and sporting events for brothers.
4. Provide weekly programming appropriate for maintaining an Islamic environment for the brothers.
5. Proactive Outreach initiatives aimed at other faith and ethnic groups.

Mannerism of Those Who Wait (Adab Al-Muntathareen):

Manner 1. We will respect all institutions, organizations, scholars and reference authorities.
Manner 2. We will promote impeccable manners among the brothers by refraining from vain talk, back-biting, jest and time-wasting activities.
Manner 3. We will be good role models for the young and old by having positive attitudes, developing solid Islamic knowledge, and always having compassion and sincerity in faith and action.
Manner 4. We are life-long students of one another, respecting others and their ideals and promoting dialogue to foster the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood.
Manner 5. We will completely avoid environments that promote idleness and indecency, ensuring that we hold ourselves to the high moral standards befitting of a follower of the 12th Imam [aj.].

For more information on this organization please visit: http://shababalmehdi.org

AH Dabaja

Take Me Back

After a long day, I need time to unwind. Today might have been long, but the weeks and months preceding have been longer, more hectic, filled with trial and misfortune. I ask myself, have I withstood the test of time. My gut reaction is no. My heart sinks as I think about where I am in life, how I have progressed and where I will go. Despair is a terrible state to be in. I take my Qur’an in hand contemplating whether the oceans found within may be of help to me. "May" i think. "Have I fallen that deep into despair?"

My spirit needs certainty. It needs a sign. It is the catalyst that keeps hope pulsating through my veins and heart—I must revitalize it. As I reflect on my state, my spirit begins to move. It starts pounding at the door of my heart trying to resuscitate it, knowing that it’s on the brink of failure. I yearn for those days spent reflecting on the signs of Allah [swt] and on my own actions. I remember vividly the time when life was easy. Not because there was less responsibility and difficulties, but because those distant days were filled with satisfaction coupled with strong faith. Whatever came my way I felt I could handle. The exams, difficult people, trials. Today, it seems as if my heart sulks in uncertainty—on the precipice between faith and disbelief—a feeling between hope and hopelessness. My heart sinks deeper. It needs to be revived.

Opening the Qur’an, I whisper to Allah [swt] to give me certainty once again. I need it. I crave it. I want it so bad. I ask the Qur’an, “Oh the one who guides the misguided, guide me.” My mind immediately shifts and recollects the days spent growing up in the beautiful colonial home my parents purchased. The scent of pine needles and the warm glow of a Michigan summer’s sun flood my senses. Why I ponder? Why that home, why those summer days spent climbing pine trees and exploring my own backyard. Why? The innocence I conclude—the tranquility that accompanies childhood. That is what I yearn for.

I begin to open the Qur’an wondering what awaits me. Damnation? Hope? Ambiguity? Would God put his servant on this earth and not show him the path of hope and salvation? No, never. I begin to read and immediately I am overwhelmed. My emotions take over and my mind and intellect struggle to make sense of it all. So many solutions I think. He gives solutions; we are the ones that reject arrogantly out of negligence and disbelief.

“Verily, the Muslim men, and Muslim women, and the believing men, and believing women, and the truthful men and truthful women, and the patient men and the patient women and the humble men and the humble women, and the alms-giving men and the alms-giving women, and the fasting men and the fasting women, and the men who guard their private parts and the women who guard, and the men who remember God much and the women who remember God much, for them has been prepared forgiveness and a great recompense.” [Al-Ahzab: 35]

I am in my backyard now. The one which use to be filled with pine trees and crabgrass, cracked cement slabs that make their way up to a rundown garage. The sun hits my face as the wind dances by. I lay there. I hear children playing and birds chirping. The metal backyard door opens and slams abruptly, as it use to always do. My mother walks out, her young face, bright and spotless greets me. My heart is at peace now. The peace I was longing for.

DA Hadi