N.O. Muslims, Friedman, Khalidi, Zogby, Neo-Orientalists, Oil, Gaza

1) Here’s an outspoken piece about New Orleans Muslims, New Orleans race, and racism. It’s on a blog that I’m finding is really worth checking out for intra-Muslim discourse:

Thursday, July 21, 2005
Racial Tension in the American Umma
by Kelly Crosby

I was talking with my father one day and we get into this habit of listing all of the isues of the New Orleans Muslim community. Alhamdulillah, I am happy that I have not experienced the direct brunt of racism, sexism or any other unIslamic behavior…yet. But when I talk to some of my friends and what they have experienced, it’s makes me nervous. But one of his comments stayed with me long after we finished talking. He said, “there is no way for African-American Muslims and immigrant Muslims to come together on anything in this community until we all address the problem of Muslim-owned cornerstores.”

We all know about the cornerstores. I have a Palestinian friend who taught me some of the deen; his family owns such a store. It began to bother him so much that he left it and got another job. Or in his words, “I want to deal in business that’s halal.” These cornerstores dot the neighborhoods of poor Black people who don’t have the transportation to get to the larger supermarkets. A lot of them are on government assistance so one stop to the local store takes care of everything. I wouldn’t have any problems with these stores if they didn’t carry certain items–namely, pork, alcohol, cigarettes and lottery tickets. For me it’s mostly the alcohol but that other stuff is just as haram.

Many of these stores in New Orleans are located by housing projects where many people believe that they will live and die in the ghetto. Masha’Allah, that’s not always the case as I have family members raised in the “projects” and they made it out of there. But many already believe that there is no hope for a better future.
Unfortunately some turn to drugs, cigarettes and alcohol. Some prefer to waste their money by buying lottery scratchouts. And who is the person behind the counter helping his fellow brother in humanity, this beautiful child of Bani Adam, destroy himself? It’s the devout Muslim who would never drink, smoke (well, SOME of us don’t) or spend our hard earned money on the lottery. This is horrible, hypocritical dawah. In fact, this is the 2nd worst kind of dawah. The 1st is the “Muslim” man who sleeps around, dumps his girlfriends (sometimes inpregnating them and asking for an abortion, eeeewww!) all the while thinking he’s exempt from God’s judgement just because he is a Muslim.

The subject came up because I was talking a friend who works at an Islamic school. She’s the only African-American Muslim teacher amongst the Palestinian teachers and student body. So, she’s basically got the burden of teaching our umma’s diversity on her shoulders. She told me that sometimes, she’ll hear the kids say, “Black people are dirty. They all do drugs. They’re all crackheads and drugdealers.” Naturally she chimes in, “Wait, I’m Black.” But these young, impressionable children say, “But you’re a Muslim. You’re different.” You see where I am going.

Where are these children getting their perceptions of Black people from and why hasn’t this been addressed? They are getting their stereotypes from their parents, who just happen to own these funky stores in the poor neighborhoods. What I don’t understand is how can you talk about “urban blight” when you sell the very things causing the social decay and then run right back to the suburbs where everything is clean, safe, nice, and uh…ya know. And don’t think Black people have not taken notice.

I have been confronted by them, asking, why are Muslims so pious when it’s their own kind but treat Blacks in such a disrespectful way? And you know what? There really isn’t any answer that’s suitable. This is how people start to believe that Islam, of all religions, is anti-Black. (Let’s not forget the idiotic Muslim-on-Muslim slaughter in Sudan).

So what’s up? When these cornerstore-owners look at their customers, why don’t they see Bilal ibn Rabah (radiallahu anhu) or Nana Asma’u?

What about Malcolm X? Mohammad Ali? Kareem Abdul-Jabbar?

Why go on about Muslim diversity, brag on its luminous Black figures and then wax on about how those n**gers are tearin’ up the neighborhood?

Why live in fear that you may get robbed but the thief blew his money on lottery tickets that you sold him?
Or here’s a real funny one. Why go on about how Black people are this and that when your sons and daughters are listening to rap, wearing FUBU, Sean John or any other hip-hop label, speaking slang, using the n-word as a term of affection for their friends and might have Black boy/girlfriends on the side?

Yeah, I went there. Or maybe it’s like the comedian D.L Hugley said, “Everybody wants to be Black ’til the cops come.”

Now before I move on, don’t think I am laying this all on the Muslim storeowners. If you are an American adult, 21 years or older, you have the option of buying alcohol. No one is holding a gun to their head to make them buy it. You can opt for gum instead of cigarettes, beer for soda, turkey instead of pork. Remember, Blacks and Latinos are heavily targeted by liquor and cigarette companies. They intentionally put more billboards in Black neighborhoods and in Black publications (which is something those publications need to think about) promoting these things.

The only reason why I started writing this post is because of Umm Zee’s hardships with Islamic schools and then I went off into this tangent as usual. African-American Muslims represent at least 33% of the Muslims in America. Maybe more. How do you think it makes us feel when we see immigrant Muslims, some we know from the masjid, selling poison to our people. Yeah, I said, “our people,” not just Black people but humanity. Muslims are supposed to help cure social and cultural diseases, not spread them.

Wouldn’t you be horrified if you found your daughter smoking or your son drunk out of his mind? How do you think honest, hardworking, but poor Black people feel when they come home and see the same thing? Just as all Muslims aren’t terrorists, not all Black people are crooks, murderers, rapists, welfare mothers and drug dealers. You hate it when people call you “al-Qeada” or “bin Laden.” Well we hate the word n**ger and I don’t care how many rappers use the word, I still hate it! I would hate to be called a n**ger, just as much as you hate to be called sand n**ger.

See the connection. See how other racists view us? N**ger. Sand N**ger. In their eyes, Blacks, South Asians, Arabs, and Latinoes, are all dirty brown people. They didn’t even bother to come with a new racial slur, they just added a word to an older one that still hurts to this day.

Now you know me, I’m not going to end this post on a sad note. Many Muslims from all racial backgrounds are seeing this glaring problem and are doing something about it.

Iman Central is one of those groups.

Here is an article about this group standing in solidarity with African-Americans trying to prevent yet another liquor store from opening in the community.

www.imancentral.org/modules.phpop=modload&name;=News&file;=article&sid;=26&mode=threadℴ=0&thold;=0
It’s a long link so get highlight the thing then…..ya know what to do.

Click here to read Racial Tensions part 2

http://izzymo.blogspot.com/2005/07/racial-tensions-part-2-what-happens.html

Racial Tensions: Part 2

What happens when you don’t fill those nicely constructed stereotypes that society creates when it comes to race, color, and ethnicity? Sister Aaminah, Umm Zee, and Umm Abdullah made some good points as to why Muslim store owners don’t see the sin in selling h
aram products in their stores. The media is not kind to Muslims but it ain’t kind to Blacks and Latinoes either. It seems that after the Cosby Show went off the air, sitcoms showing successful educated Black people became scarce. You also have to take in the ganster culture which is quickly becoming intimated by young people all throughout the world. Most of the images of Black people is that of the criminal, rapper and basketball player. There’s also the comedy shows, where we are the comic relief, basic Step-and-Fetch It. With the advent of “reality television” Black women have been portrayed as the you-know-what. Within two years, I have seen about 6 different reality shows with the same “type” of Black woman–mean, conniving, backstabbing, cruel, wanna be diva with an attitude. The Latina woman is still portrayed as the sexy, brainless tart or worse, the house keeper or maid who can’t speak English. And sadly, though these Muslims hate to see themselves portrayed as terrorists, they easily by into the stereotypes of others. May God enlighten us to the truth of His deen to help us overcome.

But what about the politics of color in our umma? You know it’s there. We are all familiar with the idolatry of light-skin and Caucasian features. I know that it’s in the South Asian community. Some women use skin-lightening cream or cover their faces to avoid the sun. And there’s that caste system that put dark Indians on the bottom and light Indians on the top. Many of the Hindu gods are beautiful, light skinned with coal black hair. The most popular Indian actress is Aishwarya Rai, a blue-green eyed, light-skinned woman and that’s not mere coincidence. She’s gorgeous but does she look like most Indian women? And that mentality has tickled into the community so the Muslims are not immune. Black people in New Orleans had a huge color hierarchy for two centuries, but now that’s pretty much gone. Light-skinned Black people and dark-skinned Black people do not seperate themselves as they used to and the ones who do are looked upon as “colorstruck” and stuck in the medieval Creole past.

Entering into this racial fitnah…me, Izzy Mo, African American Muslim woman. Let me tell you a little about myself. I have light skin. Very light skin. I am lighter than both of my parents and sister. My parents are Black; so are my grandparents, great grandparents, and great-great grandparents. I have no living relatives from any other ethnic group and haven’t had any since the 1850s, roughly. I really need to look into my family’s history because I know that the various hues in my family are the result of racial mixing in New Orleans.
Yep, New Orleans was at one time the heart of Creole country–octoroons, quadroons and mulattoes. It was very common for French and Spanish aristocrats to keep Creole mistresses. It was so accepted that their French and Spanish wives lived in houses right across the street from their Creole mistresses. There was also the forced concubinage of Black slave women resulting in lighter skinned mulatto children. Think Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hemmings. Throw in the mixing between Native Americans and African Americans and what you get is Creole–Black, French, Spanish and Native American mixed together. Actually, my great, great grandmother could have passed for white, or passe blanc, as they used to call it. There is a huge blessing in having a great grandmother who can tell you some stories about your Creole speaking ancestors. But we have British, French, Irish and Scottish surnames in our family so the idea of looking up my family past just seems incredibly daunting.

I have approached by flirtateous Latino boys wondering what they were talking about. I’ve had other Black people ask me if I was “mixed” (as if Black people in America are purely African @@). “Are you from New Orleans?” “Do you have a white parent?” Subhan’Allah, it doesn’t help that I speak English properly. Nope, I don’t use slang or curse. And I get offended by this idea that in order to be “Black” you have to speak English poorly and use profanity. It’s even more depressing to see Black people fall into that trap. So I got insults. “Oh, you talk like a white girl!” Why are you so proper? You ain’t Black, huh?” Muslims by into these stereotypes too.

Anyhoo, as an African-American Muslima, meeting Muslims of different races has been a very interesting experience. Very interesting. Back in 2000, my Palestinian friend was shocked to discover that his new buddy was Black. “You’re joining the Black Student Union? Why?” I just looked at him like he was on drugs. “You’re Black? No, you’re not. You’re Creole.” I told him that I wasn’t and that Creole is not a race in New Orleans, It’s a type of seasoning mixture that we put in our food like Creole gumbo. Then there was his brother who told me straight up, “You say that you’re Black but you look Spanish and talk White.” Did I tell you these guys have a father who owns a cornerstore in poor Black neighborhood?! What is “talking White”? They weren’t fresh off the boat. They went to school with Black, White and Latino students and yet their views of race and color were stereotypical. Then there was the Pakistani woman who was shocked that I asked her to translate a part of lecture that was given in Urdu. “You don’t understand,” she asked with a very troubled look on her face. Alas, I became an assimilated Desi girl who couldn’t speak Urdu. What terrible Pakistani parents I must have! There was the dude from Turkmenistan who couldn’t believe I was American. I was Turkish. Turkish mixed with something, but Turkey had to be there. And the time I was at a Palestinian wedding and some woman was asking me if I wanted more food in Arabic. I had to ask my friend next to me what she had said. Oh! And the Arab teenage girl who told me that I could probably land an Arab husband on the basis of my ambiguous racial features. “Hey, you could pass, ya know.” No, I’m not passing or denying anything.

“What are you?” “Black.” “Nothing else?” “Not that I know of.” I’ve got relatives with African features, Caucasian features, light skin, dark skin, full lips, thin lips, freckles, no freckles, high cheek bones, narrow noses, wide noses, big hips, no hips, curvy figures, ironing board figures, straight hair, curly hair and everything in between.

It’s a sort of touchy subject for me but that’s only because they can see Black people as being one a particular type. They don’t see Black people pursing college degrees or having green eyes. They don’t see us people who can do things outside of dancing, eating, singing and playing sports. They buy into culture that depicts as merely low wage earners, not capable of being intellectual or creative. A people who produce few writers, artists and scientists.

Blame it on my father. My proud, Afrocentric, former anti-racist activist father who saw the brunt of it first hand who taught me to be proud of our African ancestry. Blame it on the fact that I went to an all Black high school where the reading lists included Toni Morrison, Zora Neale Hurston and Haki Madhabuti. It’s that knowlegde of knowing what your folks have done in the past that’s makes you proud and it’s a shame that some of them can’t see that. And what is the deal of downing people with dark skin? Last time I checked, Nigerians, Somalis and Ethiopians were some of the most beautiful people in the world. I almost deleted this post but I had to get it. I hope you won’t take it the wrong way. We’ve got a lot of cultural barriers to overcome and hopefully, we can let Islam guide the way.

2) Here’s an excellent rebuttal analysis of last week’s Friedman op-ed urging blacklisting of those who disagree with him. It’s from that same blog:

http://ihsan-net.blogspot.com/2005/07/putting-spotlight-on-friedman.html#label

Putting the Spotlight on Friedman
By Mohamed A. Faraj
July22, 2005

In today’s New York Times article