myriamfrancoiscerrah

Just another WordPress.com site

Posts Tagged ‘media

HuffPost blog: “What I Might Have Said If I Had Been on Newsnight…”

with 2 comments

You can read the original post here:

On Monday evening, Newsnight convened a panel of Muslims to discuss a short film on the topic ‎of “who speaks for Muslims”, made by Quilliam Foundation’s Maajid Nawaz. The panel included ‎the journalist Mehdi Hasan and the Muslim commentator Mo Ansar and was chaired, (although ‎arguably not much!) by Jeremy Paxman.‎

The film itself featured a number of voices which Nawaz argued were marginalised by the Muslim ‎community and served to illustrate his point, on the backdrop of his tweet of a Jesus and ‎Mo ‎cartoon, that Muslims need to be more inclusive and attentive to minority voices. ‎

So, what would I have added to the discussion if I had been present? Probably not much given its ‎shambolic nature, but here are a few points I was hoping to make:‎

‎1)‎ Was the cartoon Maajid tweeted offensive?

The simple answer is, yes, to many Muslims it ‎was, for the simple reason that Islamic art, at least in its Sunni variant, traditionally prohibits ‎pictorial representations of prophets. Even among Muslims who do represent prophets, ‎the images are of the sacred variant – in other words, they are reverential, respectful. If you ‎don’t want to take my word for it, then just read on:

“Islamic visual arts are decorative, ‎colourful, and, in the case of religious art, non-representational. The Koran regulated every ‎detail of the lives of the Faithful but gave few precise rules for the arts apart from banning ‎the production of cult images.”

And yes, that’s from The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Art ‎Terms, that typically ‘islamist’ source. ‎
Ah, but it wasn’t Islamic art now was it, it was atheist “art”? Well you’d be right to point ‎that out. The anonymous author of the Jesus and Mo series himself says:

“I think it’s ‎important to remind people of a religious persuasion who might be upset or offended by ‎Jesus and Mo that it is not for them. They are not the intended audience, so to complain ‎that they find it hurtful or offensive is irrelevant. Why are they looking at it?” ‎

Why indeed! Hold on, they’re looking at it because Maajid – the establishment’s go to ‎person on Muslim issues – tweeted it. When he says “as a Muslim, I did not feel threatened ‎by it”, what he’s actually saying is “I, as a ‘moderate Muslim’, don’t take offence, so neither ‎should others”, thus casting the insidious shadow of ‘extremist’ doubt over those who did ‎feel offence.‎

Let’s be clear – Maajid is entitled not to adhere to the predominant view among Muslims ‎on the pictorial representation of prophets and the even more widespread view that ‎intentionally deriding images of anyone’s sacred symbols is offensive, but you can’t feign ‎naivety over people’s upset. I mean, that’s the actual point of the cartoons – to ridicule ‎believers.‎

Maajid’s defence is that he wants us all to become a little thicker skinned, to counter the ‎‎’blasphemy’ culture and all that jazz which quite incidentally I’m sure, makes for enticing ‎sound bites for potential funders. But given prior reactions to the posting of other religious ‎‎’satirical’ cartoons – think Denmark 2005 – global protests – what exactly was the strategy ‎here? Light the tinderbox and then reveal you are in possession of an ideological fire truck? ‎I’m not sure how effective a tactic that truly is.

Violent reactions (of which on this occasion ‎it should be pointed out, there were none) are unacceptable, but so surely is seeking to ‎provoke them in order to prove a point. Meaningful change is the type of gradualist work ‎undertaken by activists on the ground who seek to change mentalities with, not against ‎the community.‎

Thankfully the reaction among British Muslims was meek to say the least. Well, if you ‎consider over 22,000 signatures opposing Nawaz meek. Perhaps not meek then – maybe ‎more like, moderate? Surely Maajid should be proud, Muslims, displeased with the ‎behaviour of a prospective MP, started a petition (how civilised!) calling for an investigation ‎by the Lib Dems into his behaviour. Judging by their response you’d think Britain’s most ‎‎’obscurantist’ Muslims might not actually be in need of mass surveillance and ideological ‎re-alignment – they seem to have this democracy business pretty much figured out.‎

‎2) But why should the majority of the British public have to respect the religious eccentricities ‎of Muslims?

Well ironically enough, Maajid’s report was all about the importance of ‎tolerance and respecting the voice of different minorities within the Muslim minority (gay, ‎ex-muslim, feminist). Presumably that extends to minorities within a majority as well? Or it ‎is only Muslims who should feel compelled to respect minorities in their midst? ‎

No, that doesn’t mean censorship, it means treading lightly around people’s sacred ‎symbols. ‎

Are some people still going to be offended? ‎Probably. ‎Does that mean we shouldn’t show images of the Prophet? ‎ No, it simply means those who use offensive images to further an extremist anti-religious ‎agenda should be outed for their deliberate provocation, not heralded as martyrs of free ‎speech. ‎

The Jesus and Mo series existed long before Maajid decided to tweet about it. It became ‎an issue because:

a) Maajid describes himself as Muslim so there was some expectation among Muslims that ‎he would not deliberately trample all over Muslim sensibilities ‎

b) while Muslims could and did ignore the Jesus and Mo series while it remained in a ‘look ‎if you want, don’t if you don’t’ corner of the internet, they could no longer ignore it when ‎one of the most prominent Muslim figures in the UK tweeted it and proclaimed the rest of ‎us were loons for being upset by it. Cheers Maajid. ‎

c) finally, although Maajid likes to reiterate the fact the particular cartoon he tweeted is ‎fairly innocuous (and as far as religious satire goes, it is!), it is not a stand alone image. It is a ‎part of a series intentionally created to mock, demean and belittle the faith of Christians ‎and Muslims. Surprisingly – or not perhaps, many faithful interpret the images as they ‎were intended. Don’t take my word for it, here’s the author of Jesus and Mo: “I have to ‎admit that the potential offense of an imagined religious reader also adds an element of ‎humor – of a childish, sniggering variety.”

And while I’m here, there is something quite ‎sinister about depicting Prophet Mohamed with a hooked nose and a uni brow – playing on ‎Arab racial stereotypes? How hilarious. ‎

‎3)‎ Is this really all about cartoons? Actually no! The ever perceptive author of the Jesus and Mo ‎cartoons himself responded on this issue by saying: “It shows that the whole business is ‎not about the comic, but rather a personal attack on Maajid Nawaz”.‎

‎A personal attack on Maajid? That sounds terrible. Why would people want to personally ‎attack Maajid. Well, despite his gleaming reputation as the bulwark against the hoard of ‎barbarians (or the modern variant, the “islamists”), many within the Muslim community ‎regard the Quilliam Foundation (QF) and Maajid in particular with some suspicion. ‎

For one thing, an oft-repeated critique is that he has retained the Manichean outlook developed ‎during his time in the radical group Hizb-ut-Tahrir. Maajid has a nasty little habit of smearing his ‎critiques as ‘islamists’ and suggesting all those who object to the QF’s undertakings are closet Al ‎Qaida groupies. Needless to say this has irked quite a few people. Not least those individuals his ‎organisation flagged up as allegedly sharing the ideology of terrorists in a secret memo to the ‎Home Office. The list included the terrifying anti-war campaigner Salma Yaqoob.‎

And that’s not all people are angered about. QF has consistently advised the government in a ‎manner which has increased surveillance and suspicion of Muslims despite very little evidence to ‎suggest their ‘conveyor belt’ theory is actually in any way credible. According to the author and ‎Guardian journalist Dr Nafeez Ahmed:

“Government advisers, counter-extremism officials, and ‎‎(current and former) civil servants confirm that the UK government’s counter-terrorism strategy is ‎failing to tackle the danger of violent extremism; rather, it is exacerbating the threat of domestic ‎terrorism. These officials attribute the failure to a “fundamentally flawed” approach to counter-‎terrorism strategy inspired by a UK anti-extremism think tank, the Quilliam Foundation.”‎

On the contrary, there is evidence to suggest QF’s work is not merely flawed but negatively ‎impacting our ability to actually tackle terrorism. ‎

To realise just how flawed, take the example of STREET, a south London organisation engaging ‎alienated young Muslims which was listed as ‘extremist’ by the QF in 2010. One counter ‎radicalization expert has said that if STREET had been operational today “the Woolwich incident ‎could have been averted.”‎

A recent Demos report shows that although many Muslims share similar concerns over the plight ‎of occupied or war-stricken peoples, they do not condone the tactics used by terrorists. Placing ‎such individuals on the same risk list as those who believe in the use of violence is frankly a gross ‎mischaracterisation of people’s outlook and a huge waste of government time and energy on ‎individuals who do not actually pose a threat. But don’t take my word for it. One former senior ‎OSCT director responsible for Prevent has gone on record saying. “I and other counter-terrorism ‎experts were telling the coalition cabinet that non-violent extremism is not a factor in the real ‎threat.”‎

People’s antagonism towards Maajid isn’t actually about him being the alleged beacon of liberal ‎tolerance, in an ocean of hate-filled bigotry, as he and his minions like to claim. Muslims don’t ‎dislike Maajid because he supports gay rights or free speech. They might disagree with him on ‎issues, but the visceral reaction he engenders has little to do with his personal outlook and ‎everything to do with his think tank’s extremely poor engagement with the community it ought to ‎be supporting in eradicating violent elements which, Gallup polls indicate, worry Muslims even ‎more than they worry the broader public.‎

And the list of grievances wouldn’t be complete if I failed to mention Maajid’s new BFF, Tommy ‎‎(not really ex-EDL) Robinson – having tried his hand at reforming Islamic extremists, Maajid ‎extended his skills to the far-right, establishing a working relationship with the most extreme face ‎of islamophobic rhetoric in the UK. Having smugly announced that Tommy was reformed (wow, ‎that was quick!), Tommy almost immediately slipped back into his old habits, joining the murky ‎network of islamophobes the “SION Presidents Council” (that’s the catchy “Stop Islamization of ‎Nations” to you and me) alongside the anti-Muslim propagandists Robert Spencer and Pamela ‎Geller who just this summer, the home secretary had banned from entering the UK.‎

If this wasn’t enough to ruffle a few feathers, in Monday’s film, his linking of Muslim feminists to ‎ex-Muslims as different examples of “progressive” voices within the community has done a huge ‎disservice to Muslim feminists who struggle as it is to be recognised as speaking from within. Now ‎we’re being put in the same boat as those who campaign against the faith! How helpful is that to ‎our efforts at working for gender equality within our community.‎

In the film, Namazie from the Council of ex-Muslims, claimed that emphasising Islam as one’s main ‎or only identity was “part and parcel of the effort to hand them over to the islamists” which sounds ‎like a conspiracy if I ever heard one. And why would it be problematic for people to define ‎themselves first and foremost as “Muslim”? A poll of Muslim Londoners by Gallup found that while ‎most (69%) strongly identified with their faith, a majority (57%) also strongly identified with their ‎country and that Muslim Londoners are just as likely as the British public overall to condemn ‎terrorist attacks on civilians. Why are islamophobes like Namazie being given a platform to espouse ‎erroneous and stigmatising nonsense under the guise of, according to Maajid’s introduction, giving ‎a voice to an “increasing number of Muslims using their faith identity to advance a progressive ‎agenda.” What is progressive exactly about stigmatising those who identify first and foremost with ‎their religious identity as somehow ‘extreme’? By that token surely the Pope, Dalai Lama and Chief ‎Rabbi are all ‘extremists’!‎

Are there issues of intolerance within the Muslim community? Certainly there are. Do I think the ‎Council of ex-Muslims are part of the solution. I should hope it is fairly obvious that they can’t be. ‎Unless your proposed solution, which presumably is theirs, is a mass exodus from the faith.‎
Far more insulting than any tweet is the inclusion of the ex-council of Muslims as part of a package ‎on progressive Muslims.

The Muslim community is far from perfect, but our misrepresentation as ‎squabbling men who need reforming through those who have themselves rejected the faith is ‎palpably absurd. Who speaks for Muslims? How about the myriad Muslims doing the hard graft on ‎the ground.‎

Advertisements

Lowes Vs All-American Muslim: When does it NOT pay to be Muslim?

with 9 comments

This piece can be found here on the New Statesman blog

So Lowe’s, the US-based chain of retail home improvement and appliance stores, has decided to pull its advertising from the reality TV show All-American Muslim. Most of us aren’t stupefied with shock. Its not like we don’t know anti-Muslim bigotry is now acceptable beyond the ranks of Tea Party conventions, but for it to be just so blatant still has a sting to it. Who could have predicted that a TV show portraying the lives of five ordinary Muslim families could produce this tornado in a tea cup. For many Muslims, it confirmed what we’d all secretly been hoping was just acute paranoia: that just being Muslim these days is a political issue.

Following pressure from the stormy Florida Family Association, which referred to the TLC (The Learning Channel) show as “propaganda that riskily hides the Islamic agenda’s clear and present danger to American liberties and traditional values,” Lowe’s decided it was not commercially viable to be associated with anything related to Muslims. Even pretty normal ones, apparently.

But it was their seemingly innocuous statement which got my knickers in a twist:

Individuals and groups have strong political and societal views on this topic, and this program became a lightning rod for many of those views.

(sound of screeching record)

You what?

“This topic” is, in fact, the lives of regular Muslims. You know the ones — the guy who drives your bus, the woman who treated your sick child, your neighbour, your colleague at work. People have strong “political and societal views” about these folk? On what basis exactly might that be?

For those who haven’t caught the series — and you’re missing out if you have — the genius of the show is its decision to showcase the true range of what it means to be a Muslim, even within this small snap-shot of the Muslim community, in the form of its Arab-American variant. From sassy hijab wearing Nawal, to peroxide blonde aspiring nightclub owner Bazzy, via Mike Jaffar, the deputy chief sheriff, through to the all-American high school football coach Fouad, the show is the first honest representation of what regular Muslims are like. Which is just like the rest of us, it would seem. Or to quote Debbie Almontaser: All-American muslim is as American “as apple galette: different crust on the outside, same gooey filling”.

So the suggestion that Nawal’s preparation for her baby’s birth, or Fouad’s management of his team’s fasting during Ramadan, or scenes of Shadia hanging out at a country music concert because she’s a muslim and she likes country music — is somehow something people have “strong political views” about, needs to be outed for the downright bigotry it is.

Recent research at Cambridge University looking at the overarchingly negative portrayal of Muslims in the media concludes that “Muslims deserve a better press than they have been given in the past decade”. The problems is that when Muslims do get a fair portrayal, even that is apparently political.

But let’s give credit where credit is due. At least the US media actually has a show portraying the lives of regular Muslims.

In the UK, the most recent portrayals include the most cringe-worthy and facile plots, from secret gay lovers (one imaginatively called “Christian”!) on Eastenders, to the tyrannical Pakistani father who beats his English wife in West is West. The writer Yasmin Alibhai Brown rightly asks:

Where is the soulful, female Muslim singer, the wily, kebab-millionaire, the two-timing Pakistani cricketer, the Arab heartthrob? They do all exist, but these roles are not written into scripts.

Oh sure, if you’re nutty, fanatical and cantankerous, the channels will be more than happy to feature your disjointed rant — but the reality is regular Muslims are plain absent from British screens. I have yet to see a woman in a headscarf on any mainstream film or programme where her identity was not reduced to a caricatured plot about Islam being dangerous/oppressive/threatening. In fact, the bulk of daytime TV seems to be spin offs of 24 all set in Iraqistan where a veiled Muslim women is being beaten, forced into something, or somehow degraded by a freakishly long-bearded generic Arab shouting “Allahu akbar”.

Here’s a revolutionary concept: how about she just happens to be a Muslim and the plot revolves around, say, her job within a busy hospital A&E? It worked for ER! Despite Muslims being statistically overrepresented in the medical profession, it took until 2011 for Casualty to introduce us to the peripheral character of Omar Nasri — not a doctor, but a paramedic.

Muslim actor friends of mine often joke that they seem to have had a lot more employment after 9/11 — the question is, playing who, or what? Most of them have gained notoriety playing terrorists from the North of England. They cringe as they tell me these are the only parts on offer. A Somali actor friend recently made the difficult decision to turn down the part of a Somali pirate in a Tom Hanks feature film, on the grounds that he didn’t want to add to the negative portrayal of Somalis.

And I did say actors — not actresses — as the parts which feature Muslim women rarely tend to be played by Muslim women. This is partly to do with the fact that few Muslim women are to be found in the acting industry, or the media more broadly. The struggle any budding Muslim actress might face reminded me of a statement by Asian American broadcaster, Jan Yanihero, featured in the documentary Miss-Representation. Recounting growing up in America, she stated that she never saw anyone on TV who looked like her and so never imagined it possible that she could work in the media. Preceding her testimonial were the profound words of Marie Wilson, the founding president of the White House Project: “you can’t be what you can’t see.”

While the issue of female visibility in the media has thankfully got some attention (apparently saturation point is around 33 per cent visibility), I often note how rarely Muslim women are called upon to contribute to mainstream discussions; even when, as in the Arab revolutions, they are frontline activists in the struggle for change. In a recent Guardian article, Chitra Nagarajan is quoted as saying, on the topic of the absence of women — particularly black and ethnic-minority women — from current affairs programmes:

When I was doing my count, it was the early months of the year, when revolutions were happening in the Middle East and north Africa, but very rarely did you actually see a woman from any of those countries speak.

You occasionally saw the men speak, but never the women, which I think ties into the whole idea of black women’s vulnerability and invisibility. So black women never speak for themselves – other people speak for them, and over their heads – when it comes to their rights. And the image you see of them is as weak, vulnerable and not being really important agents for change.

Muslim women so very seldom speak for themselves; I don’t recall the last British Muslim woman I saw on Newsnight or BBC Question Time. Deliberate policy or not (and I’ll venture it is a not), young Muslim women often ask me whether it is even feasible for them to seek a career in the media. It is difficult to be optimistic when I have no concrete examples to show them.

All the more so when, as the Cambridge study confirms, so-called “moderate Muslims” — those who might get air-time — often are praised in a way which implies they are good because they aren’t fully Muslim. So how can young Muslims aspire to be engaged in an industry which reflects back to them the idea that to be accepted, you must compromise your identity?

Muslims who just get on with their lives aren’t seen as newsworthy, and when the focus is on a violent subset of the Muslim community, there is the danger that the majority suffer guilt by association. The proof is in the pudding. What’s actually politically contentious in All-American Muslim is its potential to dispel some of the hysteria built up around the Muslim community and show us up, warts and all — as regular people, with regular problems.

Written by Myriam Francois

December 14, 2011 at 13:55

Blood and Gore: Finding Our Human Dignity

with one comment

While gruesome images of Gaddafi’s bloody corpse hit the headlines here, in Libya, people were queuing to see his body, largely in order to ascertain for themselves, that the tyrant who ruled for so long, was indeed gone for good. The choice to print graphic close up images, or play on loop the final moments of a seriously injured man in the hands of an understandably angry mob, was shocking to many, not least those of us who had to explain the images to young children. But rituals of death also tell us a lot about the living. So what does our portrayal of Gaddafi’s death say about us?

Some of the most explicit and disturbing images of Gaddafi’s slumped body seem to play to our base desire for retribution and punishment, transforming our media networks into modern day coliseums, where morbid fascinations are given free rein, the sobriety of death sacrificed at the altar of ratings or high print runs.

There were undeniably serious journalistic challenges to covering Gaddafi’s demise, as the BBC’s editors’ decision to dedicate a post to the topic testifies. Specifically, were graphic images an essential part of telling the story or were they merely victory porn, dehumanizing both the watcher and the watched through a desensitazation to images which should otherwise be deeply distressing and disturbing? Are we revelling in the death of our enemies, the Bin Ladens and Anwar al Awlakis, in our very own rituals of atonement, where human sacrifice is still the ultimate price to be paid for ‘evil’?

Gaddafi’s death, like Bin Laden’s or al Awlaki’s raises significant questions over the appropriateness of extra judicial killings, due process and the human rights of war criminals – but what about basic human dignity? To be convinced that Gaddafi or anyone else should be afforded this, is in no measure an apology for their actions, but surely a marker of unfailing commitment to the very values which underpin our society.

The ethics of journalism have surely been tested by the latest technology which means we have access through camera phones to a dying man’s final seconds. The real question such footage poses is, whether the choice to air it is guided by journalistic concerns or profit margins. And more broadly, whether we don’t demean our own humanity, by the gratuitous parading of bodies like war trophies.

Ultimately, it is how we deal with people in death, as in life, which defines our commitment to human dignity.

(this article can also be found here )

Written by Myriam Francois

October 26, 2011 at 17:58