#Ethics from the #Quran: They might be better than you!

I continued on my journey, listening to Qur’an reciters. Following the advice of Reza Ismail, I also went to the Dorp Street mosque one night. It was extremely good, as he had promised.

Chapter Hujurat is one of the favourites of the early morning prayer at the Azzavia Mosque close to our home. I have heard verse 11 countless times, but saw the full implications thereof as I listened again on Saturday morning (18 June 2016).

The verse cautions believers not to denigrate, insult or think of others less worthy, less pious or less devout: “it might be that they are better than (those who believe).” Do not, the verse continues, use insulting names or use other forms of evil signification towards a people, men or women. Turn away from such behaviour, it concludes.

The commentator Qurtubi lists some examples of such forms of denigration. He recalls a man who arrived late at prayers, and demanded his usual place in the front row, wanting to eject someone he thought was less worthy. He mentions the companions of the Prophet calling the son of his major enemy, “Son of the Pharaoh of this nation.” And he recalls how one wife of the Prophet was called short, and being made fun of for her dress; another being called a Jew! In the latter, the insults were coming from within the household of the Prophet.

The examples are very specific, and show how deeply the potential to insult and denigrate may infect a society. Qurtubi elucidates the practice of insults in a community that Muslims regard very highly. This is an effective way of addressing insults at a fundamental, but also personal, relational manner.

But the verse’s use of qawm and nisa suggests also collective denigration. And this reference can be applied to stereotyping and insulting groups of people in our time. I could not help but relate this to the current climate of racism accusations and counter-accusations in South Africa, or Islamophobia in the West. These two stand out amidst a general inclination to nativism or ethnic, cultural, religious and civilisational arrogance.

The verse does not call for equality or simply a moderation in insulting another person. The other being insulted may actually be better, it remind the reader! This is in contrast with what we usually think about stereotypes. They are inaccurate, or they are based on generalisation of one encounter. They hide or reveal a fundamental inequality as in South Africa between white and black. Racial slurs reveal and hide a history of occupation, theft and dominance of one group over the other.

These cannot be denied. But the verse reminds a reader that the other who is denigrated may be better. Not equal, but better! It does not call for equality, but suggests a thought that would be difficult to contemplate. What does it take to think of the Other as worthy of more value? Denigration, when it is deep and long-standing, has created a wall of assumptions and preconceptions about the other. The other is regarded as barbaric, stupid, animal-like or inherently violent. It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to start thinking that the other is more valuable than oneself!

But the thought forces one to take another look at both self and the other. Perhaps thinking about the other as more virtuous might be a more concrete and effective way of addressing the scourge of racism. Thinking of the other in this way might be an effective way of breaking a prejudice, even a really deep prejudice.

Qurtubi concluded his commentary with a quoted from a great scholar of North Africa: “The one whose faults are hidden by God should not denigrate one whose faults are exposed by God.” This is an equivalence of a kind that is difficult to reject. It might provide a foundation for addressing prejudice, insults and denigration.

#Inter-religious #Ethics in the #Quran: If it was an Angel?

I could not stop hearing verse 7 of chapter 7 of the Qur’an: “Had we sent an angel, then it would have been finished, there would be no respite for you...” Like many others in the 1980s in South Africa, we held on to the humanity of the prophets in general, and the Prophet Muhammad in particular. What would he have done in the face of apartheid, discrimination and racism .... It was and remains an argument for a contextual understanding of religion and law and values....

When we focused our attention on the humanity of the prophets, we had to skip over the alternative, the angelic host. Last night, the reciter stumbled over this verse. Bless him... his slow and haunting recitation is generous for anyone willing to listen and reflect. As is the custom in the night prayer, the next reader returned to this verse, corrected and recited it again. This time, I could not ignore it.

When the angels descend on humankind, then there is no longer any doubt or question about truth, meaning and destiny. That descent would be final, an end time for the game of being human.

What is the game of being human, as seen in the choice between an angelic host and a human messenger?

Full certainty, that which comes with an angelic host, is deferred. It has to be deferred ...

In real human experience, full certainty is elusive. It is just beyond reach.

It is slippery. One moment you think it is there, as you can see it as clear as daylight.And then it slips away between your fingers.

And when you have it, you cannot share it with anyone.... each must acquire certainty for herself.

You can get a hint, or some help from the wise, the Prophets and the saints. You might get more than a hint when someone shows you, witnesses the truth for you....

But you are on your own... even face to face with a human messenger of God.

If the weight of human responsibility is difficult to accept, perhaps even to imagine.. then think of its implication for our diverse and bewildering world.

Absolute certainly is not part of our human communication, about our competing visions of the world. This is not a vision of endless play and deferred truth. It is not a mere celebration of diversity for the sake of diversity. The truth is there ... only the absolute truth is deferred.

Remembering the humanity of the prophet is important, even essential. But that new contextual reading might not be the arrival of the angelic host.... it cannot be.

“On what basis do you argue over Abraham when the Torah and Bible were sent down after him?”

Last night, I listened to the Qur’an at Muir Street mosque in Cape Town during the night prayer (tarawih). The reciter (qari) went through a number of verses from the Chapter Ale Imran. it was a beautiful recitation, read in slow and measured rhythm. There was no urgency or rush in the voice of the reciter, and I listened without distraction, without my mind wandering in all directions.

This verse (65) drew my attention to a profound message in this section of the chapter. It was an argument made for the Prophet against the People of the Book. Abraham was presented as the original believer, he was neither Jew nor Christian ... And please, the voice of the reciter said, do not use the scriptures to make an argument for Abraham’s position. In a sectarian milieu, scriptures would not do. Scriptures were historical and Abraham, the common ancestor, was located outside that history.

But of course, Abraham was a “hanifan musliman.” He was pure and committed in submission.

Was he also a Muslim with a capital M?

The triumphalist message of the Qur’an is that they were all Muslims. And that is the true religion. Islam came to replace the Jews and Christians!

But what is the insight of this verse .... what is the point of appealing to an ancestor, a foundation that goes beyond scriptures. When the Qur’an became scripture, does this verse not also apply to it? Does the Quran not come after the Torah and the Bible?

I was struck by the idea of appealing to a common foundation. And I was struck by the declaration that exposed the temporality of scriptures.

A beautiful recitation, sounds reverberating over bowed heads, recalled this insight.

Trust and Betrayal in the Balance in Dlamini's Askari

Jacob Dlamini's Askari: A Stody of Collaboration and Betrayal in the Anti-Apartheid Struggle (Jacana 2014) is a deeply moving account of Askaris, the name given to traitors in the anti-apartheid struggle. Through the theme of betrayal, the book presents a moving but disturbing account of the last decade of bloody conflict between the apartheid state and a rising and popular anti-apartheid movement. The book offer much more than an account of historical events.

Dlamini's narrative is woven around the place of loyalty and betrayal within armed groups that fought to shape the future of the country. Focusing on the story of Glory Sedibe and others, Dlamini returns repeatedly to what betrayal means to collaborators and their handlers. The collaborators in this book are victims, but never lose their agency. Some collaborators are pushed to the brink through days, weeks and even months of physical and psychological torture, others break down at the first sign of pain. Sedibe's story is shrouded by lies and half-truths, which makes it a particularly interesting account of victimhood and agency.

Reading this book reminds me that trust and betrayal stand at the heart of a society. Dlamini's book teases and pushes the implications of this fundamental ethic in the lives of the Askaris, and in society in general. For the Askaris, betrayal means the end of a meaningful life. Dlamini book portrays the inevitable descent into further betrayal, violence  and alcoholism.

But the book challenged me to think about the trust and betrayal as the ground on which any collective stand. No two persons can enter a relationship without trust or the prospect of trust. When trust is rejected as a result of extreme individualism, racial bigotry or repeated broken promises, one  inevitably looks into an abyss. Perhaps the Askaris symbolise the broken trust that haunts our societies.

No doubt, Dlamini gives an account of those who refused to collaborate. Inevitably, they lives were cut short by a network of apartheid death squads that continue to roam our streets. But their lives should not be forgotten, for their bravery but also for their refusal to betray trust.

Sadly, according to Dlamini, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission failed to bring out the truth and workings of collaboration and their handlers. People like de Kock and Nofomela only revealed half-truths, sufficient to hastily thread a new narrative of a rainbow nation focused on the future.

Comment on Moosa on Muslim Political Theology: Defamation, Apostasy and Anathema

http://lb.boell.org/en/2012/08/15/muslim-political-theology-defamation-apostasy-and-anathema

I would recommend reading this article by Prof. Moosa!

Prof Moosa has perceptively captured the religious foundation or inspiration of Muslim rage towards the defamation of the Prophet in a number of contemporary context. The place of the Prophet as ontological and epistemology reference provides some explanation to the widespread acceptance if not support of punishment or attackers  who defame him.
But I think that the responses that he documents among Muslim intellectuals, both ulama and non-ulama, do not address the problem that he addresses. The mainly textual and hermeneutical strategies miss the deep rupture posed by modern defamation - informed by modernity, colonialism and post-colonialism. This ruptures threatens the meaning of prophecy, not the application of the texts in modern times.

Great and thoughtful article