By Tariq Ramadan

It is important for Muslims to have a discussion about fatherhood while keeping in mind the ever-fragile state of Muslim families. We need to re-assess the language we use and the ontological assumptions we make when we speak about the role of the father because often, the problem doesn’t just lie with the crisis but the way we deal with it.

Muslims naturally feel inclined to place the mother at the centre of the process of raising children, unwittingly ignoring the father’s role. Islamic tradition does stress the role of the mother. For example, when asked who a Muslim should love most, the Prophet Muhammad said, “Your mother, your mother, your mother and then your father.” It is also said that paradise lies at the feet of the mother. As a result, we tend to focus on the father as an individual, not as someone who should and can play a central role within his family.

When we assess issues from an Islamic perspective, we categorise everything according to “rights” and “duties”. We speak of the rights of the man, the rights of the woman, the duties of the man, the duties of the woman. This mentality is dangerous. It reduces issues to black and white, right and wrong absolutes. This approach is more prevalent than we realise. We must take from all the human sciences that can deal with family problems.
Another problem in our approach is the idealism. We speak about an idealised past and idealised families which have nothing to do with reality, whether it be now or the history of our ancestors. Muslims must realise we may be Muslims but we live in Western societies and therefore, face the same problems as other families.

There are various reasons why we are facing this crisis of the family.

Immigration

Immigration is a very difficult process because it involves uprooting oneself from a familiar cultural environment and transplanting oneself in a foreign land. Many immigrants fear that if they adapt to their host culture, they will lose their own. This rarely lasts because the peer pressure and constant bombardment of the host culture inevitably has an effect on children. We have to find healthier and more comfortable ways to effectively interact with the dominant culture.

Unemployment

Many Muslim fathers are unemployed. The inability to fulfill the traditional role of bread-winner and protector destroys the self-confidence of a father in a very profound way. This is not just a Muslim problem. In fact, many problems face by European-Muslim families have nothing to do with Islam so why do we remain afraid to search for solutions outside our faith?

What is the way forward?

We need to creatively tap into Islamic values for solutions because that is what Muslim families are most likely to be receptive to. The father is more than just an individual. He can play an important role, far beyond that of just the financial protector. The Prophet Muhammad himself was a role model as a father. When his own daughter would come to him, he would stand up out of respect for her, as people in traditional societies often do. We have forgotten these aspects of the Prophetic example. We are replacing these values with an obsession with enforcing rights and duties. That is what is destroying the spirit of the family.

But what does fatherly authority mean in the Islamic tradition? Is it all about saying yes or no to the actions of your children? Many fathers miss the opportunity to educate their children and accompany them through life. An absentee father spends long hours working or engaged in voluntary community service, at the expense of time with his family. Muslims keep saying the Islamic tradition cares for wholesome family life but Muslims themselves are having a difficult time upholding these values because we have lost our grasp of what it means to be a good Muslim and a good parent.

Fathers have poor relationships with their children. There is lack of dialogue, tenderness and affection. Also, feeling uncomfortable in his social surroundings can add to disengagement at home as he tries to grapple with his insecurities. We need local and dynamic social policies which will counter this problem. For example, in the Mauritan Islands, a scheme is underway whereby fathers are told their children will be taken care of if fathers attend training workshops several times a year.
Muslim families need to share experiences with those who share the same problems. We need to be open and learn from different sources, including non-Muslim ones. We need to take the best from mainstream psychology and social studies and incorporate these into solutions custom-made to help Muslim families. We don’t necessarily have to integrate into society by abandoning our heritage but rather, integrate the positive things we learn from society into our lives.
What we need to do is not to name and shame mosques or families. Don’t look for the guilty people – look for solutions. We need grassroots workers working between families and mosques, people who are rooted in Islam and connected to reality.

Resources on fatherhood: Fatherhood Institute

Dr. Tariq Ramadan (Born 26 August 1962, Geneva, Switzerland) is a Swiss academic. He is Professor of Contemporary Islamic Studies at Oxford University (Oriental Institute, St AntonyÕs College ). He is also teaching at the Faculty of Theology at Oxford. He is at the same time Senior Research Fellow at Doshisha University (Kyoto, Japan). Through his writings and lectures he has contributed substantially to the debate on the issues of Muslims in the West and Islamic revival in the Muslim world. Visit www.TariqRamadan.com

Monday 6 September 2010, by Tariq Ramadan

Sakineh …

Fifteen years ago I called for a halt to the so-called “Islamic” penalties—corporal punishments, stoning or the death penalty—in Muslim majority countries. The purpose of my appeal was to launch an inter-Muslim debate on the founding texts, the ways in which they are applied, and the social realities that must be taken in account in applying them. It would have taken the form of a full-scale moratorium leading to a wide-ranging debate in the Muslim world.

Many in the Muslim-majority countries—scholars (ulamâ), intellectuals and simple believers—understood and supported this approach. Others, Nicholas Sarkozy and Bernard-Henri Lévy among them, rejected it out of hand with “shock and dismay.”

Today, as international headlines focus on the possible stoning in Iran of Sakineh Mohammadi Ashtiani, the French government has proposed a “moratorium” on capital punishment. The Parisian weekly Politis pungently noted that France has now come around to my position—without admitting it. A fascinating turn of events: either yesterday’s scandalized moralists have lost their minds (the very people who labeled me as crazy at the time), or they have finally adopted a reasonable, just and consistent position.

The issue can only be handled, and the reductive, biased and even populist interpretations of the Islamic penal code (hudûd) dealt with preventively. Only an approach that involves the broadest spectrum of Muslim scholars, intellectuals and citizens is likely to lead to concrete results in majority Mulsim societies—providing we actually wish to bring about a true reform.

I oppose and condemn such penalties in any contemporary society, whether in the petro-monarchies, in Iran, or in the poorest countries of the Middle-East, Africa or Asia. For they stand, in the name of Islam, in violation of justice, of dignity and of human rights in societies where judicial systems lack transparency when they are not totally corrupt; or where religion is used for political purposes, or to distinguish themselves from the West. Thus I oppose, and naturally condemn, the stoning of Sakineh Mohammadi Ashtiani. It must not take place; it cannot take place.

But I will not sign the petition launched by several French intellectuals. I do not doubt the sincerity of the majority of the signatories, but we must not be misled by the intentions of its main instigators, the Bernard-Henri Lévys, the Marek Halters and the Sihem Habchis—founder of Ni putes, ni soumises—of the French intellectual elite.

Past masters of selective indignation and media manipulation, they now attempt to paper over their guilty silence on other issues. Iran, the West’s (and Israel’s) worst enemy, must be attacked and not the wealthy hereditary kingdoms and oil-rich sheikhdoms where stoning and judicial killing are practiced with impunity. Not a word about the innocent people ofGaza, nary a petition for the pacifists of the Peace Flotilla. Their hyper-selective condemnations and their political manoeuvres are quite simply stomach turning!

…The Roma…

No less stomach turning is the “lawful” decision to deport the Roma, with the apparent approval of a majority of French citizens—another crudely political gambit by a president who, with dwindling support on the right, the left and in the center, is using dangerously populist policies to troll for votes in the murky waters of the extreme right.

A few days ago France’s president proclaimed the distinction between “Citizens” and “citizens”, between “old stock” citizens and the rest, who are liable to be stripped of their citizenship; the measure is supported by a majority. Which takes us back to the era of citizenship by appearance, where some people were more French than others, where some French people were subject to scrutiny, and to potential surveillance… French people who are not quite French. Jean-Marie LePen can only be rubbing his hands: the president is promulgating a policy that the extreme right has been promoting for forty years.

All is not well in France; fear stalks the land. How pleasing it is, then, and encouraging, to hear politicians and intellectuals lash out at the shame and disgrace of these policies. How pleasing, and still more encouraging to see the Catholic hierarchy and some Protestant dignitaries raise their voices in protest against the politics of exclusion and mass deportation, and firmly condemn the government’s treatment of the Roma. To these bishops and priests, to these men and women, whether well-known or anonymous, we say: you are the pride and dignity of our country, the guardians of its contemporary and historical conscience.

But where have the leaders and the representatives of the Muslim organizations all gone? Where are the promoters of cultural diversity? Why can we not hear their condemnations, their criticisms; why are they not supporting the Roma in their quest for equal rights and full recognition? How can French citizens with a conscience, with a religion, an ethical sense, possibly remain silent in the face of policies that can only be described as inhumane and disgraceful? What fear stops them from condemning the inacceptable? What reduced intelligence causes them to react as Arabs, Blacks or Muslims only when they are dealing with issues involving Arabs, Blacks or with Islam? Their silence is not only without honor; it is a disgrace.

… Pakistan

Flooding, landslides…death, exile, emergency shelters. Images of devastation, horror and sadness… Tens of thousands of dead, millions of homeless, tens of millions displaced. And yet international support has been slow in coming, as though held back by some mysterious form of intertia. The UN and international NGOs have issued repeated calls to underline the seriousness of the disaster and to mobilize urgent support. But that support is still far short of what is needed.

Pakistan’s image on the international scene is anything but positive. The country has been linked to the Talibans, to Islamic extremism and to violence. Even in the midst of natural catastrophe, Pakistan seems unable to touch the West’s heart or the international conscience. Six years after the tsunami that ravaged principally Indonesia but affected thousands of Western tourists—and whose long-term impact appears less grave than awaits Pakistan—we note that human solidarity and commitment can be influenced far more by variables such as the politics of emotion or today’s favorite trend rather than by an informed, universal conscience.

It is as if certain “stereotyped” humans have lost their humanity, as if they were less worthy of rescue and assistance than others. What we see before us is frightening, and yet it is tangible; so real and so true. We can criticize all the powers of the world, all the media, the entire world itself. But in the final anaysis, both question and answer are to be found in each individual conscience. What drives my moral indigation, and my sense of solidarity? My commitment and the causes I support? Is it my social, community, political or religious affilation, or the common dignity of the world’s women and men? Am I capable of seeing, beyond skin color and national origin, styles of dress and length of beard, the essential, the intrinsic value and the distress of my fellow humans, or am I the plaything of the kind of emotive attachments that measure how deserving are the victims by how much they resemble me?

To rephrase Montesquieu’s question three centuries later, how can one be Pakistani? Good question; sad truth. Solidarity knows no color, no religion, no class. When natural catastrophe strikes, no hair-splitting is necessary. We must support those in need in the most effective way possible. Pakistan needs our support, as does India and China. History will record our dignity only if we have recognized their dignity as no less than ours.

Neither categories nor selectivity; with humanity and determination.

[This article was reproduced with kind permission of Prof. Tariq Ramadan, from the Author's own website, www.tariqramadan.com]

Tuesday 23rd February 201o

Let us agree on this: we live in pluralistic societies and pluralism is an unavoidable fact. We are equal citizens, but with different cultural and religious backgrounds. So, how can we, instead of being obsessed with potential “conflicts of identity” within communities, change that viewpoint to define and promote a common ethical framework, nurtured by the richness of diverse religious and cultural backgrounds? After all, a pluralistic society needs a strong and effective ethics of citizenship in order to face up to both its internal challenges (diversity, equal rights, racism, corruption, etc) and international challenges (economic crisis, global warming, migrations, etc).

Here’s one principle for reaching that goal: an ethics of citizenship should itself reflect the diversity of the citizenship. For while we agree that no one has the right to impose their beliefs on another, we also understand that our common life should be defined in such a way that it includes the contributions of all the religious and philosophical traditions within it. Further, the way to bring about such inclusion is through critical debate.

When it comes to the new Muslim presence in western countries, that critical debate is hard to achieve. Islam is perceived as a “problem”, never as a gift in our quest for a rich and stimulating diversity. And that’s a mistake. Islam has much to offer – not least when considering how individuals in politics and business have recently been behaving, within the limits of the law, but with a clear lack of ethics.

Islamic literature is full of injunctions about the centrality of an education based on ethics and proper ends. Individual responsibility, when it comes to communicating, learning and teaching is central to the Islamic message. Muslims are expected to be “witnesses to their message before people”, which means speaking in a decent way, preventing cheating and corruption, and respecting the environment. Integrity in politics and the rejection of usurious speculation in economics are principles that are pushing Muslim citizens and scholars to explore new avenues that bring public life and interpersonal ethics together.

More broadly, the Muslim presence should be perceived as positive, too. It is not undermining the Greco-Roman and Judeo-Christian ethical and cultural roots of Europe. Neither is it introducing dogmatism into the debate, as if spiritual and religious traditions automatically draw on authoritarian sources. They can operate within both the limits of the law and in the open public sphere. On the contrary, the Muslim presence can play a critical role in thinking about our future and shaping a new common narrative. It can help recall and revive some of the fundamental principles upon which the cultures of Europe are based.

To put it another way, Muslims remind their fellow citizens that one cannot simply get rid of older ethical traditions and replace them with a supposedly neutral rule of law or by impartial values formed in a free market. To agree on the rule of law, equality and democratic transparency is surely not enough. Contemporary crises within societies, and at the international level, remind us we need more ethics in our public life, not merely more efficiency.

Whether we can agree on the content of a common ethic is another question entirely. But this is where critical and indepth debates should take place, and it’s in this way that the issue of our plural future together should be determined. That future cannot be shaped by superficial discussions of national identity, values or Britishness. Similarly, we must stop treating diversity as a hindrance, for it should be exactly the opposite. Rather, an ethics based on our common citizenship must be forged from a serious and profound engagement with the meaning of our common humanity.

• Read the Citizens Ethics pamphlet in full here

From: The Guardian, Monday 30th November 2009

It wasn’t meant to go this way. For months we had been told that the efforts to ban the construction of minarets in Switzerland were doomed. The last surveys suggested around 34% of the Swiss population would vote for this shocking initiative. Last Friday, in a meeting organised in Lausanne, more than 800 students, professors and citizens were in no doubt that the referendum would see the motion rejected, and instead were focused on how to turn this silly initiative into a more positive future.

Today that confidence was shattered, as 57% of the Swiss population did as the Union Démocratique du Centre (UDC) had urged them to – a worrying sign that this populist party may be closest to the people’s fears and expectations. For the first time since 1893 an initiative that singles out one community, with a clear discriminatory essence, has been approved in Switzerland. One can hope that the ban will be rejected at the European level, but that makes the result no less alarming. What is happening in Switzerland, the land of my birth?

There are only four minarets in Switzerland, so why is it that it is there that this initiative has been launched? My country, like many in Europe, is facing a national reaction to the new visibility of European Muslims. The minarets are but a pretext – the UDC wanted first to launch a campaign against the traditional Islamic methods of slaughtering animals but were afraid of testing the sensitivity of Swiss Jews, and instead turned their sights on the minaret as a suitable symbol.

Every European country has its specific symbols or topics through which European Muslims are targeted. In France it is the headscarf or burka; in Germany, mosques; in Britain, violence; cartoons in Denmark; homosexuality in the Netherlands – and so on. It is important to look beyond these symbols and understand what is really happening in Europe in general and in Switzerland in particular: while European countries and citizens are going through a real and deep identity crisis, the new visibility of Muslims is problematic – and it is scary.

At the very moment Europeans find themselves asking, in a globalising, migratory world, “What are our roots?”, “Who are we?”, “What will our future look like?”, they see around them new citizens, new skin colours, new symbols to which they are unaccustomed.

Over the last two decades Islam has become connected to so many controversial debates – violence, extremism, freedom of speech, gender discrimination, forced marriage, to name a few – it is difficult for ordinary citizens to embrace this new Muslim presence as a positive factor. There is a great deal of fear and a palpable mistrust. Who are they? What do they want? And the questions are charged with further suspicion as the idea of Islam being an expansionist religion is intoned. Do these people want to Islamise our country?

The campaign against the minarets was fuelled by just these anxieties and allegations. Voters were drawn to the cause by a manipulative appeal to popular fears and emotions. Posters featured a woman wearing a burka with the minarets drawn as weapons on a colonised Swiss flag. The claim was made that Islam is fundamentally incompatible with Swiss values. (The UDC has in the past demanded my citizenship be revoked because I was defending Islamic values too openly.) Its media strategy was simple but effective. Provoke controversy wherever it can be inflamed. Spread a sense of victimhood among the Swiss people: we are under siege, the Muslims are silently colonising us and we are losing our very roots and culture. This strategy worked. The Swiss majority are sending a clear message to their Muslim fellow citizens: we do not trust you and the best Muslim for us is the Muslim we cannot see.

Who is to be blamed? I have been repeating for years to Muslim people that they have to be positively visible, active and proactive within their respective western societies. In Switzerland, over the past few months, Muslims have striven to remain hidden in order to avoid a clash. It would have been more useful to create new alliances with all these Swiss organisations and political parties that were clearly against the initiative. Swiss Muslims have their share of responsibility but one must add that the political parties, in Europe as in Switzerland have become cowed, and shy from any courageous policies towards religious and cultural pluralism. It is as if the populists set the tone and the rest follow. They fail to assert that Islam is by now a Swiss and a European religion and that Muslim citizens are largely “integrated”. That we face common challenges, such as unemployment, poverty and violence – challenges we must face together. We cannot blame the populists alone – it is a wider failure, a lack of courage, a terrible and narrow-minded lack of trust in their new Muslim citizens.

Tariq Ramadan, a Swiss citizen, is professor of contemporary Islamic studies at Oxford University. His most recent book is What I Believe

The rioting in France has led to attempts in Britain to explain how “the French system of integration has failed”. This is the mirror image of what happened in the summer when, after the bombing attacks in London, French commentators pointed to the incipient collapse of British multiculturalism. On both sides of the Channel, apprehensions are being put to rest by scrutiny of the other side’s shortcomings.
Comparing the two national methods of integration does not make sense, because the British model is neither better nor worse than the French one. Both countries, drawing on their histories and collective psychologies, have over time developed specific integration mechanisms. The British model allows diverse communities to develop, while the French model relies on individual integration. In France, a sense of full citizenship is encouraged, while in Britain citizens are able to retain their previous identities. Each model has its merits.

Even though the riots have nothing to do with religion, analysts and politicians seem determined to centre the debate around Islam, integration and identity. We are facing a case of political brinkmanship, a dangerous strategy that attempts to turn fears of Islam into short-term electoral advantage, using arguments that were once restricted to parties of the extreme right. There is a chronic inability to hear those Muslim voices that for years have been saying Islam is not the problem and that millions of Muslims have embraced their identities as Europeans, Muslims and democrats. The left and the right suffer from a lack of the political resolve needed to address pressing social issues. Perpetuating fear to win votes is easier than presenting courageous policies.
The street-level realities in France and Britain reveal startling similarities. Whether along ethnic or economic lines, the two models have created veritable ghettos. In both, communities remain isolated. The French suburbs, as well as the rich residential areas, are socially and economically isolated. In France, political discourse recoils in horror from “religious communitarianism”. But people are unable to grasp that another form of communitarianism is undermining society. Black, Arab and Muslim people are the least well-off and suffer for it.

The extent to which both models draw upon and promote xenophobia cannot be overstated. We must confront our own racism. Discriminatory housing and employment policies are nothing more than institutionalised racism. Social, not religious, concerns lie at the heart of the debate. To counteract the trend toward ghettoisation and racism, we must develop a political creativity, one that dares to take risks. Change is needed as a high priority in key areas.

The first is education: school curriculums have little or nothing to say about the history and traditions of many in society. If a curriculum does not recognise certain parents’ contribution to society, how can we pretend that it respects their children? To make matters worse, France recently passed a law calling for the “positive effects” of colonialism to be promoted in schools, while in Britain prominent figures such as Gordon Brown have argued for similar policies. Meanwhile, state schools are compounding inequality. Instead of creating anxiety over religious schools – which affect a tiny minority – would it not be more sensible to call for the reform of a whole system of education that generates inequality?

The second priority is the fight against unemployment and discrimination in the labour market. Unemployment rates among citizens of “immigrant origin” are far higher than among “native-born” citizens. It is of the highest importance to provide equal access to the labour market. Governments should act to establish equitable employment standards and penalise racial discrimination.

The third area of concern is housing and urban policy. Local authorities rarely dare to challenge attitudes to minority ethnic communities, but the objective of greater social intermingling can only be attained through a firm political commitment to confront discrimination head on. Such policies will be unpopular. Political parties are reluctant to promote them. We must launch national movements that crystallise grassroots initiatives promoting civic education and participatory democracy, focused on local projects that bring together citizens from various backgrounds. Confidence must be restored, in ourselves and in our neighbours.

No such policies are taking shape around us, either on the right or on the left. Those who consider themselves French or British are now being told that they are, first and foremost, Arabs, Asians or Muslims. How can individuals who have been swept to the margins of society avoid being attracted by the voices of literalism and radicalism? Trapped in a debate as impassioned as it is sterile about who is French and who is British, we can no longer hear the legitimate demands of certain citizens who really are French or British. The recent violence is an unfortunate reaction against the deafness of authority.

By avoiding the real debate – about equal opportunity and power-sharing – France and Britain are stigmatising people and destroying their sense of belonging, by encouraging fear and perpetuating a hold on power. Share they must, however; this is the lesson history will teach them.

This article was first published in The Guardian on Saturday November 12, 2005. Tariq Ramadan is a visiting fellow of St Antony’s College, Oxford, UK.

The application of the Islamic penal code – known by the widely misunderstood term sharia – in Muslim societies is one of the most controversial subjects in the dialogue between the west and the Muslim world. The imposition of corporal punishment, stoning and execution in the name of religious texts on an entire society cannot be accepted. We must condemn such repressive applications, which are carried out without due legal process.

The Islamic world, for its part, sends contradictory messages: strong condemnations of such punishments are made by a minority of intellectuals, prominent figures and Muslim activists, while some governments try to legitimise their Islamic character by applying repressive interpretations of religious texts and sources. An important discussion on sharia is taking place in the Muslim world, but a fruitful debate has yet to materialise.

Muslim populations from Nigeria to Malaysia claim to strictly apply the sharia and yet the majority of ulama (Muslim scholars) insist that these penalties “are almost never applicable” because of the difficulty of establishing the necessary conditions. But they avoid expressing themselves clearly so as not to lose credibility with the masses.

The debate has become a case study in relations between civilisations and cultures. Should one call on the entire Muslim world to condemn these practices? Is it not possible to stipulate universal values where basic respect for human dignity is non-negotiable, while recognising the diversity and specificity of religious, cultural and historical references?

A proposal for a moratorium on corporal punishment, stoning and the death penalty generates opposition from all sides. Voices from the west assert: “This is unacceptable, is not enough!” While the Muslim world exclaims: “This is unacceptable, it is a betrayal of our sacred texts.”

The call for a moratorium is necessarily addressed to the Muslim world from within its own terms of reference. We are convinced that an evolution in mentality is only possible on the basis of an internal social dynamic. Today, in the name of Islamic principles, we are launching a call for an immediate moratorium in the Muslim world.

We argue that, first, the ulama are not in agreement on the interpretation or authenticity of texts referring to such injunctions, nor on the political and social contexts in which they would be applicable. Second, the application of the sharia today is used by repressive powers to abuse women, the poor and political opponents within a quasi-legal vacuum. Muslim conscience cannot accept this injustice.

Third, Muslim populations, without direct access to many of the relevant texts, tend to believe that devotion to Islam requires a strict and visible display of punishment, partly an opposition to “the west”. It is necessary to resist such a formalistic drift.

The ulama and socially engaged Muslims recognise that an internal debate is necessary and injustices carried out under a religious guise are unacceptable. The call for a moratorium has a double advantage: it would mean the immediate suspension of these practices in the name of justice in Islam and a beginning of a process of reflection on how to apply the sharia today.

Evolution of thinking cannot occur without this debate. It would allow the Muslim universe of thought to reconcile itself with the essence of its message of justice, equality and pluralism, rather than being obsessed by the formalistic application of severe punishments in the name of frustration or feelings of alienation perpetuated by the domination of the west. It is necessary to open the debate and reply with the Islamic imperative of ijtihad (critical exegesis of religious texts).

The unilateral condemnations one hears in the west will not help to move things along. On the contrary, Muslim populations are convincing themselves of the Islamic character of these practices through a rejection of the west, on the basis of a simplistic reasoning that stipulates that “the less western, the more Islamic”. It is necessary to escape this perversion.

Meanwhile, western governments and intellectuals have a responsibility to allow the Muslim world to involve itself calmly in this debate within Islam: the claim to universality in the west cannot be to the detriment of understanding the cultural and religious references of “the other”, the logic of his thought system and the path that leads to a common universal understanding.

On the political level, it is imperative that the selective denunciations stop: whether it is a poor or rich country, an ally or an enemy. The rejection of injustice must be made without concession. In the end, the paths that lead to dialogue and encounters demand a readiness to question one’s own certainty.

* This article first published in The Guardian on 30 March 2005. Tariq Ramadan is a Muslim academic. His books include Western Muslims and the Future of Islam.