# TAQWACORE WEBZINE

### Either a munafiq or a really lousy atheist

Posted by basimkanjar on August 22, 2009 · 14 Comments

Ramazan has always been good to me in America. In Lahore, the month always made me very bitter towards Muslims – offices would open at noon and close before sunset, which during the winter made for five hour work days. Everyone besides laborers would take advantage of the holiday to shirk work, and bring the city to a hault. This would be infuriating when I’d have to get my motorbike looked at, or if our water boiler stopped working, or if there was a gas leak at my apartment.

But in America, I remember being a drug addled teenager in 10th grade, and the one month I didn’t down gallons of cough syrup was Ramazan. I had enjoyed not needing to eat, and loved how defensive it made the classmates around me. I relished their stupidity.

“Wait, how can you survive thirty days of no food or water? I thought humans could only survive like … five”.

It was a form of power over everyone else, everyone’s stupid benders, cocaine parties, everyone’s hedonism. The Nation of Islam for a time would fast during december, as opposed to the traditional lunar calender method, simply to offset the consumerism of Christmas season.

There were many times I wanted to beat the shit out my younger brother early in the morning. Just half an hour, I could barely concentrate on my prayer with him standing next to me. I wanted to snap out of it, and slap him across the face. No reason, just to get my aggression out. But Ramazan is about nafz. It’s about controlling rage, an emotion I pray to some day have a drought of. I notice why Islam is engineered to encourage group prayer. It’s because most of us hate each other, and want to see less of each other. And if you force us to pray together, maybe we’ll also be better about eating from the same plate, or sharing the same blanket. It’s about keeping resentment low.

But I think Islam was man made. I think Muhammad’s encounters in the cave of Hira were a testament to his imagination. I think the verses he was transmitted were a testament to his own skills as a poet, and his own ability to see the world for what it was. Knowing that young teenagers like Bilal, Usman, Omar, and Ali were willing to put faith in Muhammad, and put their lives at risk for him offers me great comfort. There is no jihad like a jihad against your elders.

Similarly, I don’t think Islam is in any way the ‘true’ religion. I don’t put a lot of stock into the kalma either. The kalma is something I recite to myself when I’m stuck sleeping in an alley way, and I don’t want to get robbed. Beyond that, I don’t think that saying there is no god but Allah, or believing that Muhammad is the last prophet has any special meaning for me. Any creative force, any conscious force that lead to the creation of life is holy enough for me. A woman’s uterus is more holy to me than Mecca. The arc at which a tree grows closer to the sun is more holy. The rate at which a carcass decays to make room for life is more holy.

And yet, I make a shitty shitty atheist. I don’t believe in a hereafter, but I find myself praying from time to time. I find myself asking Allah directly for guidance when I make du’a. I don’t think du’a is the only way to communicate with some higher power, but it’s the only way I’m familiar with. If my father was born 263 miles East of Lahore, I would have been taught the Guru Granth Sahib, or the Ramayan instead of how to read the Qur’an. Who knows. I could have been brought up to pray to fire. For me it’s all the same.

It’s not to undermine religion to state that it came from the imagination. That is exactly what makes it divine. I think consciousness is divine. It was only a matter of time before life evolved into a being who could observe what it means to be alive. I loved reading Blake years ago. He said it was beautiful that man could throw two twigs together and be reminded of crucifixion. Invention and art are divine. And religion is a mix of both.

That either makes me a munafiq or a really lousy atheist. What drew me to this scene is that fictionally, it’s based around a house where everyone has the space to be themselves. It’s no surprise we find solace living in America. If we were Christian heretics, chances are that we’d become a cult. But being the non-WASP heretics we are, no one really bats an eye. The media has been running the same story for years about us being “muslim punks”, despite the fact that most of us have problematic and very personal baggage with being muslim, or being religious. And how personal can you really be with a reporter? Short of sleeping with them?

There I go into nafz again. Astagfirallah. Ramazan mubarak to you all, mad props to those who can break the chains today.

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Filed under Editorial · Tagged with atheism, god, Islam, munafiq, nafz, no god, one god, ramazan, taqwacore

##### Comments

14 Responses to “Either a munafiq or a really lousy atheist”

1. James NMD says:
   August 22, 2009 at 6:03 am

   Saying you make a shitty Atheist is giving it sort of a status as religion and rules, and if you do that you are arrogantly giving Atheism the status of religion when it is something it claims to reject. Everyone has rituals and some morals even if some people can be manipulated out of them easier than others. Religion tends to make sense of these rituals while claiming alittle more than a passing affiliation with Atheism usually implies conforming to an extent with secular society (even if those ideas you conform to come somewhat from religion) with just a rawer deal (no heaven, no reassurence, no prayer, BUT WE ARE LOGICAL AND THINK WE ARE RIGHT) religion cannot really be rejected so it’s better just to be yourself even if that means you add pray sometimes or what not.
   I claim to be an Atheist only in the sense I don’t want anyone confusing me with a Christean (or any religion) anymore than any other religion even if I’ve lived in a more Christean society because I’m not part of any, I am Atheist as I am part of no organized religion and don’t believe in god, or think he has a real interest in “human” rules we create for him. But its far from having spiritual beliefs, it’s just I would rather belive in freedom for all than who is right on the religious front and forcing us.

   But what you write interests me in the sense where I can like religion to provide a way for us to make sense of the world and be able to get along better with ourselves and our people in this world, and I like the idea of it (such as controlling rage, the idea that it’s good to be able to have control over ourselves, as that is power and something that makes us divinely human). Plus whenever we are raised with religion it influences us no matter what so it must be confronted, I cannot deny how much being Unitarian Universalist influenced me, yet I have little interest in returning to that church for religious purposes and say some hypocrisy in it I didn’t love, but then it was done by people, not the greater spiritual message.

   I think allot of the press with the Kominas is simply due to American ignorence of what you are doing, not to mention that you are in ways breaking some new ground so it creates some real novelty and you have created a sort of spin on controversy as most rock ‘n roll controversies are tired and done (shouldn’t they be it means they have won and created somewhat acceptance for their ways of life or society at least realized their not a harm because people may like the music but doesn’t threaten to undermine the very fibers of American life). I say this in reaction to you talking about the press. You have created a good combination of dissonence in American thinking (I didn’t know Musilms did that, could do or dare to do that) and solidarity (wow they are humans with points of views) along with the fact that its something that forces everyone who sees it to have some sort of opinion, be it either toward the music, you guys or religion not do people need to be really informed to have an opinion cause the stuff sorrounding it is always dust being kicked into the collective atmosphere of most peoples breathing space.

   Reply
2. Imran says:
   August 22, 2009 at 6:07 am

   beautiful… sums it up for me.
   “A woman’s uterus is more holy to me than Mecca. The arc at which a tree grows closer to the sun is more holy. The rate at which a carcass decays to make room for life is more holy.”- i still call myself a muslim, but i’ve always felt this way.

   thanks for being real

   Reply
3. m says:
   August 22, 2009 at 7:04 am

   basim, i think we really hashed out our thoughts together that one night in baltimore in the hotel room, when omar was trying to film that salah… remember?

   anyway, my understanding from ramadan is a bit different; it’s more about solidarity than anything else. i don’t know if it’s standard “sunni” practice, but my dad always told me the most important part of ramadan is to feel the pain of hunger that starving, poor people feel. the part about it being the month of revelation always came as a footnote.

   and it seems the part about destroying the nafs is more important. for a lot of people, ramadan is this self-motivated month, where they seem to say “i fast so i can get into heaven” and the hunger of the day does nothing but helps them to switch up their eating schedules, wake up super late/sleep during the day, then gorge themselves all night on cream-filled fatayer and kanafe.

   but they forget about community… and that’s important whether or not you’re an athiest. some sufi orders decide not to fast, but instead use the month as a time to abstain from doing bad (for the heart) towards others. and i mean, as i was once told, if you remove the kaaba, we’re all really praying/bowing to eachother.. that seems to really be the point of this all.

   Reply
4. Hamza (Martin) says:
   August 22, 2009 at 8:42 am

   I miss fasting. I miss the anticipation leading up to the first day of Ramadhan. I even miss the arguments between the local Masjids between what day that should be!

   Right now, I am not sure I could say Shahada with all sincerity, but I fasted seriously for 5 years straight before I began to fall away and wish I could now.

   I understand the power of group Namaaz. Even when I considered myself a “real” muslim, I rarely prayed alone. I felt it most strongly when in a big room with a couple hundred other guys. It was like a critical mass of intent and belief breaking through my walls and freeing me to feel something.

   We stand up, embrace and get the whole warm fuzzy Ikhwan thing, but once we start talking beyond platitudes in formulaic Arabic phrases, I realize that most of these guys simply don’t think. They either follow what they think is Sharia automatically to what they think is the best of their abilities, or they are hypocrites and talk a good game, but will be down at the bar tonight, trying to pick up American women who they simultaneously desire and revile as “whores”

   In either case, I can’t relate and usually don’t come back.

   These days, I am not even sure what I believe. Suratul Ikhlas in Tajweed still sends me off into a small piece of heaven, but the whole “Masjid muslim” role repels me. Can I call myself a muslim if I believe the Qur’an to be a book full of necessary social controls for it’s time interspersed with metaphor to be interpreted differently for each era? If I believe that Muhammad wrote that, do I really believe he is a prophet in the way that the Shahada means it?

   I get what you’re saying about being a munafiq or a lousy atheist. I’ve been there for a couple of years. The main difference between now and when I first began to fall away is that now I have no anxiety over it.

   Reply
5. Signý says:
   August 22, 2009 at 9:44 pm

   Hamza (Martin): Maybe people who feel the same as you will one day make a new Islam. I don’t feel guilty about saying that – a few years ago I would have expected to be struck dead for saying “make Islam.”

   Dua? Praying? Maybe it’s just a way our consciousness relates to the universe. I don’t really think there is anything out there, especially not the invisible dude described in 99 names or less. But sometimes I know I think “Let me get through this” or “Let her be okay”. I do not accept at all that this is some sort of god consciousness, or a subconscious bit of fitra like the Muslims would say. If that is the best evidence for an invisible all powerful creator god, that would be pretty sad (and it is the best evidence, and it is pretty sad).

   There’s no rules to atheism. No rules at all. It is simply the absence of belief in a deity. Islam told us everything has rules. And now there are none. And sometimes you’re understandably at a loss. It’s just life.

   Reply
   - Fatma says:
     August 25, 2009 at 11:25 am

     Signý, I like what you wrote, especially the last 2 sentences. This is very true. Life is chockful of the ups and downs, some things we know, some things we will never know. Some things take time to be resolved, some things are never resolved. Some things we have to let go, some things we have to fight for.

     So many people desire clarity, understanding, knowledge, truth, significance, meaning, guidance as it is so crucial and, in some circumstances, even integral to obtain some sense of contentment and a part of fulfillment in life. The ‘why am I here/wtf am I supposed to do while here’ piece continues to plague so many of us throughout life.

     I empathize with the author. I myself have been through my own journey(s) [still am; it's probably lifelong, like it or not lol], being born and raised in Islam. I do not argue for or against Islam because although I am at present a re-practicing Muslim for the most part, I do not expect others to believe as I do. I tend to like others by how they treat people, and ones who genuinely want answers to questions that need asking (oftentimes, the ones that most everyone else is afraid to ask). I also tend to respect those who have a reason to believe what they do, no matter what their background is. I think wisdom can come to people in various forms, usually takes time, can occur as a result of personal or others’ experience, and occurs when the person desiring wisdom is either thinking very hard about a particular topic or is not thinking about it at all. So much gray area!

     Regardless, I hope this Ramadan is meaningful in some shape or form to the Muslims participating, and to their allies. Ameen.

     Reply
6. syahi says:
   August 23, 2009 at 12:27 am

   you might be a munafiq or a lousy atheist, but you’re certainly not a bad writer

   “a woman’s uterus is more holy to me then mecca”-

   I wonder when women and their bodily organs will stop being symbols and ideas and be taken for what they in fact are. Just what does a woman’s uterus mean to anyone out there who doesn’t have one. Something you can worship, something you can use, perhaps destroy? Respect comes out of action. Worship is reflected in sacrifice.
   So is the uterus still holy when it opens up and engulfs you, or only when its a distant idea that has no bearing on your life?

   Reply
   - Basim says:
     August 23, 2009 at 12:59 pm

     It’s hard not to see a uterus as a barer of life, because, it is.
     I did not mean any harm, saying it was holy. It certainly can be wrathful.

     Reply
7. Kaitlin says:
   August 23, 2009 at 2:18 am

   “punk Muslim” is an imagined identity (funny the creative things media can do too). Being personal comes with belonging and without it, feels awkward and unoriginal. Thanks for being honest.

   Reply
8. munachao says:
   August 23, 2009 at 9:38 pm

   “If my father was born 263 miles East of Lahore, I would have been taught the Guru Granth Sahib, or the Ramayan instead of how to read the Qur’an. Who knows. I could have been brought up to pray to fire. For me it’s all the same.”

   loved this. exactly how i feel.

   Reply
9. Micropixie says:
   August 24, 2009 at 12:39 pm

   BSM, this is honest, and therefore beautiful, writing. I especially loved the line “a woman’s uterus is more holy to me then mecca”, and also this: “There were many times I wanted to beat the shit out my younger brother early in the morning. Just half an hour, I could barely concentrate on my prayer with him standing next to me. I wanted to snap out of it, and slap him across the face. No reason, just to get my aggression out. But Ramazan is about nafz. It’s about controlling rage, an emotion I pray to some day have a drought of. I notice why Islam is engineered to encourage group prayer. It’s because most of us hate each other, and want to see less of each other. And if you force us to pray together, maybe we’ll also be better about eating from the same plate, or sharing the same blanket. It’s about keeping resentment low.”

   Reply
10. Signý says:
    August 26, 2009 at 10:06 pm

    Fatma, thanks for that. I think that if there had been more Muslims who had your sort of outlook, I might have found a different way in Islam. I wish more Muslims were that open minded about life. Would definitely make our world a better place, and the ummah a better one.

    Reply
11. Yassir says:
    February 13, 2010 at 5:57 am

    What is Ramazan? There is no Ramazan. It’s RamaDan people. Da Da Da!!!! NOT za.

    Reply
    - Rizwan says:
      March 14, 2011 at 2:32 pm

      Ramadan for Arabs. Ramazan for Persians, Pakistanis, Afghans, Indians, and Bangladeshis. Pronouncing (and being ) like Arabs doesn’t make you a better Muslim, so we’ll keep our Z.

      Reply

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