Posts Tagged Israel
… it was his funeral. In his funeral I learned who he was.
On this day two years ago I was struggling with my camera, my umbrella, the freezing weather, and trying to find my way in the middle of a grieving crowd. This was the day Beirut’s Dahyeh residents were bidding farewell to the mastermind behind Hizbullah’s performance in the July 2006 war. It was hard for me to take good video shots while living the moment and feeling the grief of the people around me.
As if in Ashoura, Beirut’s southern district, the Dahyeh, was cloaked in black. Everyone was in mourning. Posters of Mughniyeh filled the streets. And I’m not sure if the Israelis knew what they were doing, but they killed him on exactly the same month they had killed former Hizbullah secretary general Sayyid Abbass Al Moussawi and Sheikh Ragheb Harb, one of the early founders of the armed Islamic resistance in Lebanon. Hizbullah had already marked a week in February as the “Week of the Martyrs.” Israel added Mughniyeh to the list, and created a lasting triangle that inspired even more poems, songs, and posters. February is a big month in Beirut’s Dahyeh, thanks to Israel!
Two years have passed and Hizbullah still hasn’t shown a sign of revenge. Israel had been on its toes for two years now. The magnitude of sorrow and emotion that I saw when the assassination took place really shook me. A friend of mine was watching the funeral live on TV and she sent me an SMS saying, “The Israelis must be pissing in their pants!” The scene was big, the anger was everywhere, but it was organized anger. That is the kind of anger Israel should fear.
These are some of the pictures I managed to take, in addition to a couple of the videos that I shot while being right in the middle of the crowd. The first video shows the spontaneous emotion that came out of people from all directions as they saw the casket being carried to its burial place. It was a very moving scene; a mixture of hails, salutes, and celebrations. The second video shows the cheers and the smiles that I saw on people’s faces when Nasrallah promised Israel an open war. That quote was later repeated several times, I’d hear it on the local radio, I’d see it written on posters, and it would often be referred to in a series of discussion on the future of relations between Hizbullah and Israel. It’s good to have been there when it first came out and to capture the moment!
February 14, 2008 was a day I will never forget.
Click on this picture to see full gallery:
Casket being carried to its burial place:
Sayyid Nasrallah promises open war:
Posted by Arwa Salah Mahmoud in Uncategorized on February 6, 2010
My first visit to the south of Lebanon after 2006 was a rather brief one. I was joined in the bus with an energetic American activist from New York who explained to me the many initiatives she tried to take during the July war of 2006 to let it be known to the public in New York that Hizbullah was not a terrorist organization. She’d arrange sit-ins in Central Park, she’d join counter-demonstrations in front of those that supported Israel. She’d wear yellow T-Shirts and shout at Israel supporters on the other side: “Hizbullah are not terrorists! They’re FREEDOM FIGHTERS!” and get shoved from one place to the other by the police.
Needless to say, she didn’t really have a place she could call home, quite literally. She’d be moving from one place to another, hardly identifying her real self on the internet, and all the while she’d be moving around with her “Hizbullah tapes;” those nationalistic songs that sing glory to Lebanese soil and hail the resistance, which she had gotten from an earlier trip to Lebanon. When her sister would visit her with her 3 year-old daughter she’d play the tapes so loudly, hold her niece’s two hands, and dance from one song to the next.
When I first met her at the conference hall she grabbed my arm and spoke carefully to me, “I so wish I could meet a Hizbullah person. If only I could salute them and tell them that American policy does not represent us! That I understand the truth of what’s going on here and I’m with them all the way, and that I’m not the only one! There are so many people like me!”
I didn’t quite know how to break the news for her, but I just had to see her face when I said it. “You mean you’re not aware that we’re surrounded by them?? Look around you! All those handsome men in suits are from Hizbullah!”
“How do you know that?”
“They’re among the organizers, remember? Be careful though, not all of them would want to be officially identified that way.”
“God! They’re so cool! Could they be fighters?”
“I wouldn’t know about that. But I don’t think so. Hey! Maybe we will get to meet a fighter if we go to the south. I wish I could meet one myself!”
I knew I was dreaming. It was often said that Hizbullah fighters don’t really announce themselves to the public. They stay anonymous most of their lives. They could be the waiter that delivers your drink, the taxi driver that takes you to the airport, or even that teacher, doctor, engineer that impressed you in a meeting. There’s no telling who takes up that rifle and shoots at Israeli soldiers.
So on that day we boarded the bus to the south the excitement that filled us was almost embarrassing. We were after all heading towards a war-stricken place. The entire south was still grieving. But to me, that sense of triumph the very look of the rocky mountains gave away called more for celebration. The south had suddenly gotten even more beautiful than it had ever been.
We arrived in one of the border towns very late at night we hardly could see much beyond the immediate scenes of rubble that covered almost everywhere we went. The bus driver had stopped to ask for directions and a strong looking young man hopped in to show him directions. Seeing that most of the passengers were non-Arab, he called out with a beaming smile, “Welcome to my country!”
When we came down from the bus he volunteered to explain what had happened exactly on the spot where we were standing. He began to explain what the bombing was like and how he used to avoid it with his friends. Then suddenly it came out: “I was with them. My brother was with the resistance and he was killed right in front of me.”
I don’t really classify myself as a witty person who immediately reads between the lines, but only judging by the rough, cracked skin on his hands, the sharp look on his eyes, and with some simple deduction, I knew he was a fighter. I ran to find my American friend and took her immediately to meet him. “Here’s your fighter!”
Being the cheerful person that she was, she couldn’t hide her excitement. “Could you please translate what I have to say to him?” she asked, “I don’t know if he is aware that there are so many Americans back home who think that he and his friends are heroes!”
We walked back to him and there was an encounter I never thought I’d see, let alone have to translate. What brings an American young woman all the way to the south of Lebanon to speak heart to heart to a southern Lebanese that fights with Hizbullah? It’s amazing how much empowerment people can inspire just by crossing each other’s paths.
She began by apologizing. “I’m sorry for what our government did to you. Tell me what I can do that would make it up!” He smiled at her and quickly moved his eyes away. He pointed at the rubble around us. There wasn’t a single erect building where we were standing. “I want you to look at this destruction and go back to your country and tell the people what you saw here,” he said. “Tell them the truth about Condoleezza Rice’s ‘new Middle East.’ This is her New Middle East!”
He explained to us that his mother stayed in the village and did not flee with others when the war erupted. “She stayed home and cooked for us. My 8 year-old brother used to deliver the food. Today he wants to grow up to be a fighter too and to die just like his brother; a martyr.”
He took out his mobile phone and showed us a picture of a beautiful little girl. “This was my niece,” he said. “She was killed in her home in an air strike. This is Rice’s New Middle East.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she suddenly said to me, “I wish I could give him a hug!” That was a potential climax!
“He wouldn’t even shake hands with a woman and you want to hug him??”
“I know… I know…”
By Arwa Mahmoud
After 9/11 the concept of jihad was immediately interpreted by most Western media as a global “holy war” against all non-Muslims. Jihad became synonymous with terrorism and the media began to run stories of the perceived inherent, violent nature of Islam as evident in the Quran and in Islamic educational curricula.
In the midst of the confusion that was expressed in the media, Muslim attitudes were polarized between constant apology and denial of any significance of jihad in today’s Islam, and continuous assertion that armed jihad is an obligation against all non-Muslims, and cheering September 11.
To a great number of Muslims, however, the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon were evidence of a divorce between theory and practice that has long plagued the Muslim world. It was these voices in the middle that were the least heard and understood.
Sheikh Yusuf Al-Qaradawi’s recent book on the meanings and rulings of jihad comes today as a much-needed reference for a clear and comprehensive understanding of the history of jihad in Islam—one that traces the linguistic meaning of the concept and the various developing debates on interpretations and applications of jihad in today’s world.
Qaradawi’s book represents this middle voice that comes out strongly and at many times boldly to challenge a number of preconceived ideas held by both extremes. A key value in his work is that he devotes the larger part of the book delving in discussion with Muslim scholars of opposite views. It takes a comparative approach that maps the opinions of a variety of scholars over the different types of jihad, rulings over engaging in armed conflict with non-Muslims, and the ethics of war conduct. It offers a clear and rather interesting picture of the internal debate.
A controversial figure himself who was accused of supporting terrorism because of his support for resistance movements against Israel, Qaradawi remains one of the most widely read and trusted Muslim scholars who are respected by millions of Muslims worldwide. For this reason, what Qaradawi says about jihad is important. His writings have a mind-shaping effect on many.
Fiqhul Jihad: Deconstructing the Terms
Understanding jihad in Islam and trying to figure out why much of such violence is taking place cannot do without resort to scholarly reference that deconstructs all the relevant terms for a clearer and more responsible understanding of the concept and the corresponding phenomena.
In the Arabic language the title is Fiqhul Jihad, or the jurisprudence of jihad. The connotation of the Arabic word fiqh stands for more than merely a set of laws and rulings; it also implies thorough in-depth understanding of a specific issue. Hence the name of the book can be best taken as “understanding jihad.”
Qaradawi offers a significant distinction between fiqh and Shariah. He points out that Shariah is a divine revelation from God. Fiqh, on the other hand, is the derivation of rulings from this revelation.
Unlike the common practice of fiqh among a number of Muslim scholars as a repetition or copying of rulings previously arrived at by imams of another age, Qaradawi reminds the reader of the original understanding of fiqh as a continuous engagement with the surrounding conditions of the age or the circumstances of a specific situation in order to arrive at a desired ruling.
It is therefore a dynamic, constantly changing process. Such distinction, if clearly placed in the mind of an observer, would clarify the distinction between theory and practice.
It would make it easier to pinpoint the faults and confusion in the practice, and would show the many ways with which an Islamic principle can be understood.
Accordingly, Shariah can only be found in fiqh; it does not exist in a vacuum but rather in the many facets of its application.
The book also offers a conceptually based approach in understanding the term jihad. It does not stop at refuting the common misconception of it being equivalent to holy war; it reaches down to the linguistic root of the word, which is juhd, or effort.
Defined as “a Muslim’s exertion of effort in the resistance of evil and fighting falsehood, starting with exerting effort within oneself against evil drives, moving to resisting evil in society, and ending with resisting evil wherever it is, and within one’s capacity.” It is a wider and more comprehensive term than the normally understood qital, or armed fighting, which is rooted in the Arabic word qatl, or murder.
This definition associates the exertion of effort with the establishment and protection of justice, liberty, and dignity for the well being of a society. Jihad is therefore directly attached to value and conduct rather than belief or affiliation. With this understanding maintained throughout his research, he attacks the Muslim view that jihad is armed fighting against non-Muslims simply because of their beliefs.
In this larger context, Qaradawi stresses the centrality of jihad in Islam. He presents it as a religious obligation required of each Muslim. Prayer, fasting, and the rest of the regular rituals are not considered sufficient for a person to be a true Muslim; he or she has to be an active member of their community for the realization of such broad objectives.
Armed Jihad: The Battle Within
Why and how to fight are questions that are often left to the general public, and in many times are swiftly answered by those who assume a position of authority or responsibility over armed jihad.
Although shocking to many Islamic “defenders,” some orientalist claims that Islam preaches at the point of the sword, or that Muslims are urged to fight all non-Muslims, are not necessarily groundless.
Qaradawi addresses a much-heated discussion over Islamic scholarly claims that around 140 Quranic verses were replaced and hence nullified by a single verse some Muslim scholars called “the verse of the sword”—a process known in Arabic as naskh.
Claims that certain Quranic verses replaced and nullified others are not new to Islamic thought, yet the contemporary shrinking room for the exchange of ideas and open scholarly debate within the Sunni tradition have isolated many views and rendered them alien to the public and hence more difficult to refute.
Qaradawi deals thoroughly with the claim and questions the very principle of nullification – or replacement of rulings – in the Quran, arguing for a vibrant and “living” text that was not revealed to be later nullified.
Through naskh, Qaradawi argues that the verses of the Quran do not cancel each other out; they offer further detail and clarification with each new revelation.
Armed jihad was therefore further specified, and its rules of conduct were laid out. It was not a comprehensive call of annihilation that replaced all that preceded it.
Why and How
The idea of war was generally frowned upon in the Quran and armed Jihad, with its linguistic meaning, was perceived quite differently not as a “holy war” but rather as a much-hated necessity for the protection of the general well being of the Muslim community. There was nothing holy about it.
Jihad, like other Islamic prescriptions, can only be fully comprehended within the socio-logic of a pulling and hauling pattern that constitutes the Islamic worldview, a pattern that is often known in Arabic as Sunnat Al-Tadafu`. Throughout history, strong forces have often been replaced by others, which in turn were also replaced. Oppression and injustice often bred rebellion that struck back at the heart of their establishment.
Therefore, jihad with all its facets is perceived as a necessary force of change in society.
Armed jihad, whether offensive or defensive, and in its most basic meaning, fell within Islam’s holistic message for the protection of the oppressed; of religion; land; and liberty of creed. It was therefore one of the tools with which a “moral balance” was maintained.
Consequently, the practice of armed jihad has a strict code of ethics which Qaradawi stresses in his distinction between the use of force and violence. Building on historical text and a number of incidents, he shows that Muslim fighters are urged to avoid the resort to violence at all costs. Qaradawi launches a vicious attack on much of the practices that violate this code, such as the murder of children or the mutilation of dead bodies.
Jihad and the World: Three Abodes
Often repeated by some Muslim groups, the expressed view of the world to be divided into two abodes – an abode of Islam and an abode of war – does have a place in Muslim scholarly literature. How these two worlds are to be managed and the conditions that govern relations between them remains subject to a series of interpretations that developed with the ages.
Qaradawi challenges this division by introducing a third world: the abode of the covenant.
By adding the abode of the covenant Qaradawi reconstructed the abode of war; he narrowed it down to the State of Israel. As a settler state that was artificially established on invaded land, Israel is perceived to be an aggressive entity that should be resisted and fought. The fight against it is thus a religious fight because it is a religious obligation to resist occupation, not because Israel is a Jewish state.
The abode of the covenant consequently became the rest of the world. Muslims are bound with other countries by international treaties and laws by which they have willfully chosen to abide. Threatening the security of the people in such countries would thus be considered a form of transgression.
With all the detailed theoretical examination of the means and conduct of armed jihad, Qaradawi lays a solid foundation for a more informed practice of Shariah rulings on armed confrontation. In most of the ideas presented in his book, some of his propositions are revolutionary by many conservative Muslim standards.
However, issues such as the relationship between the Arab state especially with its own people, and where it falls in all of this, remain unanswered.
Theoretically, Qaradawi considers the duty of jihad to be the official concern of the army of the state under which Muslims reside. How should Muslims act if the head of state is corrupt, oppressive, and does not fulfill the duties required, remains loose.
With a closer look at a phenomenon like Al-Qaeda, it would be an oversimplification to assume that the 9/11 attacks were merely the result of misinterpretation of religious text.
The key problem with the Al-Qaeda ethos is the absence of strong state presence that is capable of protecting and maintaining sovereignty over much of the countries of the Arab world, which for decades has not witnessed any states that are able to use their forces effectively to deter aggressive powers from the outside, rather than use them inside against the people they are supposed to protect. With little room for free religious learning and a shrinking collective awareness, Al-Qaeda becomes equally the result of an oppressive and unjust state from within.