As witnesses for Allah
Our Prophet – peace be upon him – was a revolutionary not just in the sphere of Divine belief, but in all our belief systems. He broke down false doctrines both in the divine, as well as the constructs of society.
When you look at the people whom he held close — outside of the Quraish, the Ansar, and the Muahjiroon — you see demographics that include among others the people of Yemen, womenfolk of his family and childhood, and Africans that lived in his community and beyond.
I think about my life, what I’ve learned, and the work that I’m currently doing and see so directly how these three demographics have shaped me. The scholars of Hadramawt, the many teachers of African descent in the US and beyond, and the strong women that continue to surround me to date.
The video and last words of George Floyd transported me to the side of Bilal (may Allah be pleased with him) — the noble African companion of the Prophet Muhammad that was being choked by his oppressors. “I…can’t…breathe” are words that have been said for thousands of years from the depths of so many souls. How veiled are we that we do not hear them still?
If these words still do not affect us, let us define what it means to breathe then. The permission that God has given you and me without any effort on our part. What does it mean to breathe? The blessing of filling and emptying our lungs. A thing that you and I take for granted every second of our lives. We take on average 20,000 breaths per day. Have we reflected upon what it means to have the delivery of oxygen, this human right sent by Allah, cut off by someone in absolute arrogance with the Creator? If nothing moves in us, then we are the ones who have been cut off.
Breathe, think, reflect, listen, learn, and grow.
This is an opportunity for many of us to listen and to learn and finally understand. We may not all be the leaders that we think we are. In fact, we may not all be leaders…period. We may not be all as ethical and moral and unbiased as we have presumed. We are also not all the most eloquent and intelligent people we thought we were either, but do we have to be? Let’s first become better listeners…more genuine, more empathetic, more loving, more concerned.
We don’t all need to lead. We don’t all need to be activists.
We do all need to be responsible. And we do all need to respond.
Identify whatever role we have played in this tragedy. Whether our role was overt or passive, near or far, foreground or background, explicit or implicit. Let us begin at the nearest places…our intentions, our consciousness, our character. Let us also evaluate our communal constructs and organizations in the same manner, from the inside out.
Our family in humanity is grieving, we are obliged to be a part of the procession in any way we can. It’s a procession of millions, but it should be one of the billions. Let’s follow the lead of our family members in the black community. Let’s amplify their voices.
They have rights upon us to support them in every way. Grief, love, pain deserve compassion, empathy, and embrace.
Let’s not presume to know the pain. When you lose a loved one, it is never exactly the same as another person’s loss…not even in the same family. Even if you’ve experienced your own pain, it is unique and personal. And it’s important for us not to be presumptuous and think that it is the same equation for us all and that we carry the same formulaic solution.
Allow our family to breathe in their grief, pain, anger, and action….to move, to swell, and to sway. Let us be a sustaining force. Let us join in a manner that doesn’t disrupt the procession but supports it. Carries it, moves it forward. And most important let us for once be humble enough to allow our black brothers and sisters in faith and humanity to lead.
We have leadership in the black community. They exist, their voices are here and have always been…including right here in South Florida. It’s important for us to center this moment on their leadership and on their voice.
This tradition of noble, intelligent, compassionate, qualified leadership and spirit has been in our faith since Bilal and Barakah (may Allah be pleased with them both) and has been in our community in South Florida since Malik el Shabazz (Malcolm X), Muhammad Ali, and WD Muhammad established the first Muslim community here; and it is alive today too.
The difference. Is that the Prophetic character of both leadership and layperson has gone. Where the Prophet – peace blessings be upon him – consistently and overtly expressed love for his black family and companions, and centered them in his life without reservation or hesitation, we have marginalized. Where the Prophetic community strengthened themselves by their diversity, we have segregated ourselves and become weaker.
Let us in this moment be like the Prophet, by centering and amplifying the voices of our African American brothers and sisters in every way that we can. And let us, like a Prophetic community, support and strengthen one another. And let us always raise our hands higher to God for the oppressed.
May Allah forgive us and enable us to answer His call.
Rehan Mirza
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