Planet Grenada
the jamaa'at tableegh and the deobandis
a deobandi with a difference
differences between schools
ideology and temperament
ideology and temperament (the habashis)
Islam is at the heart of an emerging global anti-hegemonic culture that combines diasporic and local cultural elements, and blends Arab, Islamic, black and Hispanic factors to generate "a revolutionary black, Asian and Hispanic globalization, with its own dynamic counter-modernity constructed in order to fight global imperialism. (say what!)
...according to the Bible, Jacob (Israel) and his sons went into Africa as a group of 12 households and hundreds of years later they came out of Africa as a nation of millions. Either the children of Israel are really really really inbred or they intermarried with the people around them and became basically an African group. The Bible even explicitly says that Abraham, Joseph and Moses married African (Egyptian and Cushite) women [Genesis 16:3, Genesis 41:45, Numbers 12:1].I think I need to read How Jews Became White Folks and What That Says About Race in America by Karen Brodkin which has been recommended to me on more than one occasion. There is so much history and politics behind racial classifications and I would like to have a better understanding of how the process unfolds.
Grace Lee Boggs is a powerful, long-time, multi-issue activist who recently wrote a response piece to Lous Baeck's paper "Islamic Views on Globalization". She touches on a subject I've been kicking around on Planet Grenada ever since I've started, namely the relationship between Islam and different forms of Leftist thought (see islam needs radicals)
Ya, Bhutto
Who are these people
Who kill fathers sons daughters
What God do they serve
What ghost in the night
Is there money enough
Power enough
Greed enough
Murder enough
To satisfy this beast
Who devours all in its path
The children of the poor are not safe
Even children of the rich
This monster is vile
His teeth a wicked bite
Snatching you like Godzilla
When you came home preaching freedom
But there are those who cry freedom
But mean slavery of yesterday
There are those who pray in the mosque
Then murder in the street
who crush the spirit
Who silence the poets
The singers of freedom
Who deny the humanity of women
What God is this
Who empowers these devils with lust
and venom
Worse than the cobra’s sting
Ya Bhutto
What now in that sacred land
Shall your sons take the mantle
Shall the children cower in fear
Or will they stand
face the guns bombs
Paid by the Mighty Beast
Who shouts democracy
But means slavery
Who allows dictators to crush opposition
To be president for life.
He discards his general uniform
To dawn the suit and tie of Shaitan
To claim the persona of the puppet
Who smiles in tears
Choking from strings hanging from his neck.
Ya, Bhutto, you tried
To bring a better day
But demons must play out their drama
Their dance in the night
They will never put down their butcher knives
Never turn into Buddha heads.
More must be sacrificed
The judges and lawyers are not enough
The soldiers must accept flowers from the people
Not slaughter them in the streets
There are not jails enough to confine freedom
The torture chambers may fill to overflow
But freedom must rise at the end of the day.
Ya, Bhutto, your last word was the magic word: Allah.
Surely we are from Allah
And to Him we return.
--M
12/28/07
On the authority of Abu Harayrah (may Allah be pleased with him), who said that the Prophet (peace be upon him) said: Allah the Almighty said:
I am as My servant thinks I am. I am with him when he makes mention of Me. If he makes mention of Me to himself, I make mention of him to Myself; and if he makes mention of Me in an assembly, I make mention of him in an assembley better than it. And if he draws near to Me an arm's length, I draw near to him a fathom's length. And if he comes to Me walking, I go to him at speed.
"My servant draws not near to Me with anything more loved by Me than the religious duties I have enjoined upon him, and My servant continues to draw near to Me with supererogatory works so that I shall love him. When I love him I am his hearing with which he hears, his seeing with which he sees, his hand with which he strikes and his foot with which he walks."
"Yo, the feet that I walk with
The ears that I hear with, the eyes that I see with
The mouth that I talk with, the terror that I stalk with
Now it's time to spark shit"
Very little appears to be happening in some of Jamilah Abdul-Sabur’s imagery, and perhaps that is precisely her message. For her project at Diaspora Vibe Gallery, the young artist documented people as they navigated down-at-the-heels sections of Baltimore, attempting to focus on the socioeconomic disparities among many of that city’s residents. Typically her protagonists find themselves stuck in very bleak spaces. They also seem helpless and unable to escape their dreary surroundings. A man lies on his back in an anonymous interior, his figure outlined by a nimbus of broken glass. A young fellow stands in a hallway, listlessness masking his face. A closeup of a woman frames her against a building full of shattered windows. Abdul-Sabur’s “... believe, in what?” features video, photography, and installation depicting three characters and their interactions within an abandoned Baltimore factory. The gritty exhibit is presented as part of the gallery’s new Off the Wall/Experimental Lab Series organized to engage audiences in nontraditional ways.
Memory, historical connections to Cuba and Africa, her dislocation and that of her ancestors fuel the 17 major works that comprise the Campos-Pons retrospective Everything is Separated by Water at the Bass Museum in Miami Beach.
''Her work is about constructing identity and cultural histories,'' says curator Lisa D. Freiman, who organized the retrospective for the Indianapolis Museum of Art, where it was staged more amply in 12,000 square feet of space. ``It's about who we become when we move to new places, and the feeling of not completely being whole in any place.''
'In my country, in my setting, in my town, `the problem' of being African wasn't about physical placement or about land,'' Campos-Pons explains. ``When we talked about Africa, we didn't talk about the continent. Africa was in my Cuban backyard.
''Africa was my father, my mother, my cousins and my aunts and uncles,'' she adds. ``They played the drums in the patio at all hours. The question of Africa arose from the point of view of the United States. When I was in Cuba, it was never a question.''
Using paint, herbs and wood sculpture -- sight, sounds and smells -- Campos-Pons conjures the image of the forest where the gods of santería are said to dwell. The forest also is the realm of their messenger and keeper of the roads, Eleguá, the orisha after whom Campos-Pons titles another work, The One Who Opens the Path (1997), a composition of 10 mammoth Polaroid Polacolor photographs.
Likewise, in another piece, The Seven Powers Come by Sea (1992), the seven orishas of the Yoruban pantheon are present in large wood sculptures that resemble slave ships and are carved with stick figures, showing how slaves were tightly stacked on ships sailing to the New World.
The Sankore Institute and the Logan Islamic Community Center are happy to announce that we will be holding our 5th annual Rawdah Deen Intensive in San Diego, California on March 7th, 8th and 9th of 2008.
This year theme will be "The reality of spiritual excellence (Ihsan)". Our teachers for this years Rawdah will be Shaykh Sayyed Muhammad ibn Yahya Al-Husaini An-Ninowi, Imam Zaid Shakir and Ustadh Muhammad Abd'l Haqq Mendes.
The text that we will be going over are Al-Muqasid of Imam Nawawi (The section on Tasawwuf), Al-Hikam of Ibn Att'Illah and the Shukr Ihsan of Shaykh Abdullahi Dan Fodio.
We pray that you all will be able to attend and benefit from this deen intensive. Please come visit our website:
http://www.therawdah.org
Register early because space is very limited.
Amir Tariq Al Fudi
San Diego
Last night
God posted on the tavern wall
A hard decree for all of love's inmates
Which read:
If your heart cannot find a joyful work
The jaws of this world
Will probably grab hold of your
Sweet ass
My Native Costume
When you come to visit,
said a teacher
from the suburban school,
don’t forget to wear
your native costume.
But I’m a lawyer,
I said.
My native costume
is a pinstriped suit.
You know, the teacher said,
a Puerto Rican costume.
Like a guayabera?
The shirt? I said.
But it’s February.
The children want to see
a native costume,
the teacher said.
So I went
to the suburban school,
embroidered guayabera
short sleeved shirt
over a turtleneck,
and said, Look kids,
cultural adaptation.
In school they tried to tell me
that a rock is not alive
but I have seen a volcano growin' up and die
In school they tried to tell me
that a tree it couldn't feel
but I have felt a tree and it was bleeding for real
In school they tried to tell
me animals couldn't talk
but they can understand it when a dog starts to bark
in school they tried to tell me
man doesn't have a soul
"whet happened to his" I say "cause mine is
still whole!"