Avicenna - The Stanford Journal on Muslim Affairs 8.1

fall 2017 vol 8 no 1

avicenna the stanford journal on muslim affairs

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THE STANFORD JOURNAL ON MUSLIM AFFAIRS

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avicenna THE STANFORD JOURNAL ON MUSLIM AFFAIRS

FALL 2017 VOL 8 NO 1

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Atussa Mohtasham ’18 MANAGING EDITOR Alli Cruz ’20 ASSOCIATE EDITORS Simar Malhotra ’19 Kit Ramgopal ’19 Eva Grant ’19 DESIGNER Carolyn Oliver ’17 FINANCIAL OFFICER Simar Malhotra ’19

Avicenna - The Stanford Journal on Muslim Affairs is a student-run journal founded in 2011 at Stanford University. As a nonsectarian, independent publication, Avicenna exists to portray Muslims not as silent objects but as knowing subjects, from the inside rather than the outside. Published in print and online, it aims to maintain a brave and academic agora where members of diverse communities, from different cultures, beliefs and ethnicities, can critically examine issues related to the Muslim world.

To contact Avicenna Editorial Board or to send text or image submissions, please email at avicenna.stanford@gmail.com.

Avicenna - The Stanford Journal on Muslim Affairs would like to thank the Associated Students of Stanford University (ASSU) for their support.

Front cover image: Golestan, Iran. Photograph by Sam Jasmine Alavi ’18 Stanford University Back cover image: Hissor, Tajikistan. Photograph by Atussa Mohtasham ’18 Stanford University

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CONTENTS Editor’s Note ATUSSA MOHTASHAM

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"Make It Home!"

The Art of Belonging: A Journey from Kabul to Los Angeles

SAMIRA ABRAR

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Why the Green Movement is Dead, and Why it Doesn't Matter for Iranian Democracy KIT RAMPOGAL

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Adaptable Islam: Lessons from Four Months in Central Asia ROSS NEVIN

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Azadi (Freedom): Original Artwork MINA MOHTASHAM

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Beloved and the Interpellation of the Poetic I SARP CELIKEL

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Majnoona Madinah MARIUM RAHMAN

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L'Affaire du Voile Intégral SIMAR MALHOTRA

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Let's Grab Chai!

The Markaz: A Success Story of Engagement and Community

JANA KHOLY

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Editor’s Note We were walking through the Park of 28 Panfilov Guardsmen in Almaty, Kazakhstan to pass time during our layover on our way back to the States from Tajikistan this summer. We were a group of American students who had been studying Persian through the Critical Language Scholarship Program in Dushanbe for the summer. In the center of the square, where Kazakh children scattered seeds among the pigeons, there was an old organ player. He was playing the theme song to Game of Thrones.

American cultural hegemony is established across the globe today largely due to the rapid, wide-spread dissemination of content by mass communications media. It has contributed to the breakdown of class, social and cultural boundaries through the rapid spread of information in the form of texts and images; cultural identity is more difficult to articulate than ever in our globalized, digitized world. The mixing of cultures necessarily involves the interaction of a wide range of values and norms.

Sometimes, the interface of cultures turns into areas of conflict. The purpose of Avicenna – The Stanford Journal on Muslim Affairs is to cultivate ideas among members of the Stanford community that will help us transcend sectarianism and promote mutual understanding. As you will see from the following pieces, much of the political, social and cultural turmoil that characterize the Muslim world and its interaction with the West are rooted in fundamental questions of identity and selfhood. The desire to preserve identity combined with the tremendous task of our time to adapt it to new or changed contexts generates deep anxiety among people all over the world.

We open the Fall 2017 edition with “The Art of Belonging” by Samira Abrar, which reflects on her experiences as an Afghan immigrant setting up a new life in Los Angeles. She brings up the question of belonging, central to all immigrants who enter unknown locations and are faced with the task of articulating a new identity.

She highlights the tension between creating oneself anew while at the same time not losing one’s connection to the culture, language and people who constructed one’s old self. Through beautiful prose, Samira describes the experience as putting pieces of a puzzle together, creating order out of what feels like the chaos of a setting drastically different from the one you’re familiar with. Also centralizing the question of Muslim identity and belonging, Ross Nevin draws from his extensive travel experiences in Central Asia to carry us through the various understandings of Islam in Central Asian countries. His engaging piece “Adaptable Islam: Lessons from Four Months in Central Asia” combines both creative and journalistic styles to convey insights from the more remote areas of the Muslim world.

Two of our pieces feature politics relevant to the Muslim world. In “L’affaire du Voile Intégral,” Simar Malhotra offers a comprehensive analysis on the “the affair of the face-veil,” known colloquially as the burqa ban in France. By carefully investigating legislation, the rhetoric of French politicians and the arguments of Muslim feminists, Simar reveals the flawed ideological assumptions underlying the burqa ban. She underscores the dangers of tackling socio-political issues through a monolithic cultural lens and defines personal freedom as the value that should the stanford journal on muslim affairs

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consistently transcend any cultural differences. Kit Ramgopal convincingly argues in “Why the Green Movement is Dead, and Why It Doesn’t Matter for Iranian Democracy” that while the Iranian government poses certain insurmountable challenges to popular, nonviolent reformist movements like the Green Movement, democratization within Iran without regime overthrow remains possible. Kit rigorously outlines the many barriers to democracy in Iran and proceeds to show how a distinction between Western democracy and democracy in its definitive sense needs to be made for its values to be compatible with Iranian religious and cultural norms.

Literature has always offered a space in which we may reflect on the social and political movements that characterize each age through symbols, metaphors and images—the ineffable and the intangible that are also marks of those very movements, which we think can so clearly be understood, defined and resolved.

Sarp Celikel offers a brilliant analysis of three classical ghazal poems in his essay “Beloved and the Interpellation of the Poetic I,” which explores the ambiguous relationship between the poetic I and the addressed you in each poem. The elusiveness of the addressed beloved and the poet’s struggle to communicate with the beloved capture the essence of faith itself: We believe despite the uncertainty surrounding the existence or non-existence of our object of love. Marium Madinah’s poem describes her recent experience performing the hajj, an annual Islamic pilgrimage to Mecca and a religious duty of all Muslims. She captures the many different facets of her spiritual journey from the finest details of carpets, the marble floor and the playing children to the endless rows of people in prayer.

Featured in this issue are also a variety of visual media. Mina Mohtasham’s print, titled Azadi, or “freedom” in Persian, depicts a female nude under a veil. The photos on the front and back covers and scattered throughout are taken by Sam Alavi during her travels in Iran and by me during my two months in Tajikistan this summer as a student of the Critical Language Program for Persian.

We close the Fall edition with Jana Kholy’s piece introducing us to the Markaz at Stanford. In its commitment to inclusivity and fruitful dialogue, Stanford offers the Markaz as a resource center for all Stanford students to engage with and learn about the multidimensionality of Muslim identities and experiences. As evident in Jana’s piece, the Markaz functions as a home on campus for many members of the diverse Muslim community. We encourage everyone to make use of its resources and opportunities to engage in cross-cultural dialogue in the spirit of Avicenna. I thank Avicenna’s editorial board members and contributors, who made this issue possible.

Yours truly, Atussa Mohtasham B.A. Comparative Literature, German Studies, Global Studies Minor (Iranian Studies Focus) Class of 2018 Editor-in-Chief

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"Make it home!"

The Art of Belonging: A Journey From Kabul to Los Angeles Samira Abrar L.L.B. Bachelor of Laws '17, American University of Afghanistan

I met her for the first time five months ago in a café in West Los Angeles. We were sitting at the same table by random chance, busy with our stuff, when I noticed her playing with a toddler in his stroller, sitting close to a woman at the next table.

“Where are you from?” asked the toddler’s mother.

“Afghanistan,” she answered.

The mother paused for a moment and said, “Aha, you must have a story!”

Overhearing the conversation, I looked up at my table companion when she responded: “I do!” and my eyes flickered between her and the woman.

There’s a lot of joy and excitement in seeing someone from your home country, thousands of miles away, sitting across the table from you. I couldn’t wait. I jumped into the conversation and asked her where she was living in Afghanistan; we carried on from there.

Her name is Tasnim. She’s 25 years of age, a beautiful soul, a young woman with curly dark brown hair, bright brown eyes and a wide smile when she talks. She came to America five years ago from Afghanistan, when she was almost 19 years old, and according to her, that was her first solo traveling experience, and perhaps the most important one.

Tasnim recalled how thrilled she was to be coming here, while at the same time very scared of being lost. She arrived in New York first:

"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.

I lift my lamp beside the golden door."

“You know, this is what the Statue of Liberty says at the bottom on her inscription,” she said. Ever since her arrival in the U.S., she has felt its abundance, but also its exclusion, being disconnected from familiar people and losing the absolute sense of belonging.

Her experience so resembles my life.

This past October marked one year since I resettled in a distance of more than seven thousand miles away from home, Kabul, to America. Between my previous visits and this most recent one, so much has been going on here, and a lot of strangers, myself included, now have the anxiety of living in today’s America. In the midst of all these anxieties, my quest for belonging seemed to be taking over me.

I asked Tasnim for another meetup, and a week later she hosted me at her place. I had a lot of questions. I wasn’t quite getting it: how did she bounce back? She recounted how her eyes sparkled every time she figured something out without having to the stanford journal on muslim affairs

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go back to the old patterns.

“You see the opportunity to learn to embrace the imperfection and find stability in chaos, though it takes a lot of courage!

And, then you see the people—everyone you meet teaches you something new,” she said. “I am now the woman that I could not imagine five years of life as a stranger could turn me into.”

I asked her if she ever felt like she couldn’t handle it or it if she ever regretted the decision to come here. “At first, it was utterly terrifying! I felt I would never belong here,” she responded.

For me, though, moving to America was like starting down the path of knowing myself better, though I felt so excluded along the way. It was not about this particular geographic location I am right now, but about the eye-opening experiences, as well as the confusions, doubts, misunderstandings, fears and ruminations on all the choices I have ever made in life. I still struggle with finding and putting pieces of my puzzle together— some pieces of it existed somewhere far away from my “home,” in here, a place in which I, too, felt as though I did not belong.

For the very same reason, some may need to travel thousands of miles to find the missing parts and discover the joy of creating themselves piece by piece.

Nevertheless, it is a battle to survive and find your place in the world. It often feels like I have been juggling two lives, trying to make the new place home and forge new connections, yet also attempting to stay connected with people and events “back home” —pretty much every refugee or immigrant’s reality.

Overview of a part of the city, Kabul Afghanistan is now through the third largest outmigration wave of post-Taliban regime, and the 2013 Afghan migrant stock 8

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by destination shows the top 5 countries or areas of destination as Pakistan, Iran, Germany, United States of America, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. The Afghan diaspora is estimated between 4 million and 6 million people, according to the country’s migration profile 2014 report. However, born and raised in Afghanistan, I know that for most of the 14.2 million women, the 49 percent of the total Afghan population, who mostly used to have their overly dependent lives set and planned for them, solo traveling and rebuilding a sense of belonging is a big deal.

A year and a half ago, I visited my friend Sahar in Germany. Sahar and I were good high school friends. She lives in the city of Luneburg now. When I visited, it had already been two years since she had arrived in Germany. She recounted how strange she felt stepping into a new land for the first time with the goal of making a life by herself, as she says, starting everything from scratch with a feeling of uncertainty, searching for a life of peace.

Yet, it seemed overwhelming to me when she said, “Well it is almost like taking a deep plunge into the very unknown.”

But how is one supposed to connect and deal with the unknown?

The question had tormented my curious mind, and I’ve been reading all about it, listening to stories, and have been putting myself in a place where an exchange of stories could happen; there is comfort in shared experiences.

Craig Storti, in his book entitled The Art of Coming Home says, "The essence of home can be described in three key elements: familiar places, familiar people, and routines, and predictable patterns of interaction. These three elements associate the feelings of security, understanding, trust, safety, and belonging, knowing the

patterns of how to communicate with others, which our concept of ‘home’ is built upon.”1 But how do the little-to-big changes and customs define the new identity?

A few months ago, a friend introduced me to a beautiful soul, Stephen, an Interfaith Minister in his 70s and a long-time peace activist. We first met at an event where I was speaking, and at the time, I didn’t know soon I would be working in his team—a moving experience and great help in my quest.

“Get yourself going, learn the smells, learn the sounds and the feel of your new location… get familiar with the unknown,” he told me.

In course of my work, I connected with people from different walks of life and with absolutely compelling stories. Soon, I found myself immersed in it, attending the gatherings, meeting new people, speaking at the events—essentially, showing up for people of different races, religion and language.

I believe it now: there is a community that I care about! The things I face in my every day life—well, they face it with their lives too, though maybe different to some extent. Nevertheless, we have a common ground. There has been a call to reconnect and rebuild a sense of belonging, and I took it upon myself to respond.

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1 Storti, C. Art of Coming Home. Intercultural Pr., 2001.

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Why the Green Movement is Dead, and Why it Doesn't Matter for Iranian Democracy Kit Ramgopal International Relations '17, Stanford University

The Green Movement in Iran started in response to the allegedly rigged 2009 elections, which saw former President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad re-elected to office. Protestors converged in opposition to corruption and the regime’s authoritarian practices, flooding the streets of Tehran in the largest public unrest since the 1979 revolution. For many both domestic and international followers, the Green Movement represented hope for democratic reform in Iran. The Iranian government succeeded in suppressing the Green Movement; the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) met protestors with brutal suppression tactics, while the regime’s justice system imprisoned the Green Movement’s leaders.

Therefore, the Green Movement should be defined not as a revolution, but as a civil rights movement—a failed civil rights movement, at that. It did not achieve any of the goals it set out to achieve and has no strong platform for continued political action on a united front.

Social pushes for democratization continue in Iran, but this action is no longer under the umbrella of the Green Movement. Post-2008 Democratic trends cannot be attributed to extensions of the Green Movement but rather to the larger, enduring shift towards democratization, in which the Green Movement was neither the first nor the last chapter. I argue that Iranian governmental structure poses several presently insurmountable challenges to popular, nonviolent reformist movements like the Green Movement.

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of democracy, impunity of the IRGC, electoral corruption, and constitutional checks on populism. Yet, these challenges do not doom potential for democratization within Iran.

For the sake of this paper, the Green Movement is categorized by the professed goals of its leaders and by definitions that are applicable to the Green Movement’s majority composition.

American media coverage tended to paint the Iranian Green Movement as a budding counterrevolution and anti-regime effort which sought to topple the Islamic Republic—an inaccurate portrayal which damaged the movement’s domestic credibility. Yet, while the Green Movement attracted certain anti-regime actors seeking to bandwagon the movement’s collectivism, the Green Movement was a struggle against corruption for control of the existing regime—a desire to protect Iranian human rights and protect democratic elements of the constitutions.1 The Green Movement’s leaders—former Prime Minister Mir Hossein Mousavi, his wife Dr. Zahra Rahnavard, and Speaker of the Majles (parliament) Mehdi Karroubi— consistently distance themselves from radical constitutional change. As Karrubi said in 2009, “Most of those who have objected to the trend of the presidential election in the country and its result are those who fought for the establishment of the Islamic system in Iran.” The goal was not regime change, but civil reform.2 1 Dabashi, Hamid, The Green Movement in Iran, New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction, 2011, Print, 3.

2 Nabavi, Negin, Iran: From Theocracy to the Green

Societal Prejudice: Association Democracy with Western Norms

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Popular movements for democratic reform face several formidable hurdles in Iran. For many decades, Iran has cultured an popular aversion to democracy as an extension of Western imperialism. Western foreign affairs tactics in the post-Cold War era that emphasized the spread of democracy over the right to self-determination have soured the word “democracy” in the Middle East.3 After 9/11, the U.S. pursued dogged democratic promotion in the Middle East. Yet, the U.S.’s “exceptional measures” to pursue this end ultimately delegitimized the ideal of democracy in Iran. Iran has watched the West employ harsh counterterrorism measures which undermined individual freedom, military intervention in Iraq, interventionism in precarious elections in Palestine, and failure to act in accordance with democratic rhetoric in Egypt and Pakistan.4 Today, many people in the Middle East still perceive the Western brand of democracy as a means of preserving U.S. cultural, economic, and political dominance at the expense of regional interests.5 Mahmud Haydar, a prominent Lebanese intellectual, writes that the real objective of democratization is “the ascendance of American liberalism over the global village to prepare ground for communities and countries to become amenable to fast flows of capital so as to expand American hegemony over third-world countries in the post-Cold War era”.6 In 2008, leading up to the Green Revolution, 84% of the Movement, New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012, Print, 23.

3 Lagon, Mark, Promoting Democracy: The Whys and Hows for the United States and the International Community, Issue brief, Council on Foreign Relations, Feb. 2011, Web, 26 Nov. 2015.

4 Dalacoura, Katerina, "Democracy as Counter-Terrorism in the Middle East: A Red Herring?"

5 Dalacoura, 23 6 Jahanbegloo, Ramin, Democracy in Iran, New York: Palgrave, 2013, Print, 33.

Iranian public answered in a World Public Opinion poll that they believed U.S. foreign policy goals included maintaining control over Middle Eastern resources.7 Recent history complicates the democratization debate on an ideological level.

The Green Movement’s leaders recognized this prejudice, reiterating their commitment to Islam in order to prevent their own alienation. They denounce human rights abuses and civil rights abuses by calling misdeeds contradictory to Islam, rather than contradictory to democracy or international law.8 However, vocal support from Western media made it easier for the Iranian regime to discredit the Green Movement as a Western-engineered plot. Instead of portraying the Green Movement as the pragmatic reform effort it was, U.S. media consistently spoke of the Green Movement as the precursor to a long-awaited regime change movement, freely interchanging the phrase “Green Movement” with the phrase “Green Revolution”.9 Ahmadinejad publicly asserted that the Green movement was the product of psychological warfare by Western media and that its leaders were the “accomplices of Great Satan”.10 This alienated moderate segments of Iranian society who were in favor of civil rights improvements but were not in favor of Westernization, whether real or imagined.

Democratic Insulation of Supreme Leader and the Revolutionary Guard Corps In practice, civil rights movements are doomed because the most powerful actors in the state—the Supreme Leader and the 7 "Public Opinion in Iran,” SpringerReference (2011): n. pag.

World Public Opinion, Knowledge Net-works, 7 May 2008, Web. 3 Oct, 2015.

8 Majd, Hooman, "Think Again: Iran’s Green Movement,” Foreign Policy, 6 Jan. 2010, Web. 3 Nov. 2015.

9 Dabashi, Hamid, The Green Movement in Iran, New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction, 2011. Print. Page 65.

10 “Ahmadinejad re-Election sparks Iran clashes,” BBC News, BBC, 13 June 2009, news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_ east/8098896.stm.

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Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC)—are not accountable to public will. Both the IRGC and the Supreme Leader command extensive resources and control over other governmental branches—the autocratic steel barrier between the electorate and policy change. For this reason, the Green Movement struggled to institute social change without changing the overarching political structure of the regime.

The Supreme Leader is a constitutionally legitimate religious leader acting in absence of the Twelfth Imam as an expression of the Twelfth Imam’s will.

He contributes spiritual authority to the theocratic government— the central religious voice, commander-in-chief of the military, and the provisional head of the judiciary, executive and legislative branches of government. He is not elected by the Iranian people, but by an “Assembly of Experts.” The Assembly is elected by the people but are not accountable to them after that election.11 Additionally, the constitutionally founded Iranian Guardian Council routinely places checks on the political power of the Iranian people through a candidate vetting process that pre-vents political candidates not sufficiently loyal to the Supreme Leader from appearing at polls.12 This ensure that there is no real route for candidates who are not loyal supporters of the regime to enter the political arena.

Therefore, the constitution protects the right of insulated political elites to define government makeup. The Supreme Leader has little political incentive to listen to popular movements with which he does not personally sympathize as other politicians seeking to garner votes would.13 11 Islamic Republic of Iran, Iran- Constitution, International Constitutional Law, 1995. Web. 30 Nov. 2015. Article 108, 110, 111.

12 Islamic Republic of Iran, Article 118.

13 Iran Annual Report 2014/15, Rep. Amnesty International, 2015, Web. 15 Nov. 2015.

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The government’s approach to the Green Movement exemplifies this: three and a half million Iranians took to the street in protest of the corrupt elections of 2009.14 These numbers boast almost five percent of the Iranian population—the same percentage as most historically successful revolutions.15 The Green Movement united Iranians across many socioeconomic barriers, spanning ruling elite like Mousavi, secular groups, the Shi’a ulama, middle class youth, unemployed rural and urban lower class, and intellectuals.16 Yet, the Supreme Leader Khamenei had little incentive to negotiate or make concessions with the Green Movement.

Instead, Khamenei increased authoritarian practices in responding to the Green Movement, making it illegal to so much as quote Mousavi and Karrubi in the press.17 Movements like the Green Movement— nonviolent civil rights movements seeking reform within the existing political structures — face serious challenges from the highly paranoid Supreme Leader and the degree of resources he is able to command against inconvenient populism.

Regarding popular suppression, the Supreme Leader and the IRGC are politically codependent in that the Supreme Leader relies on the IRGC to enforce his authority and to preserve the status quo, while the IRGC relies on the Supreme Leader for economic and political patronage as well as religious legitimacy.

The Guards number around 150,000 men, yet they currently dominate most sectors of the Iranian economy, including energy, construction, telemarketing, auto-making, 14 Jahanbegloo, 23.

15 Kurzman, Charles, Democracy Denied, 1905-1915: Intellectuals and the Fate of Democracy, Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 2008. Print, 43.

16 Sundquist, Victor H, ”Iran Democratization Part I: A Historical Case Study of the Iranian Green Movement,” Diss.

Henley Putnam U, 2013, Journal of Strategic Security 6.1 (2013): n. pag, Scholar Commons, USF, 2013, Web. 28 Oct. 2015, 16.

17 Kalaji, Medhi, One Year After a Rigged Election: Iran's Introverted Politics, Issue brief, Washington Institute for Near East Policy, 9 June 2009, Web. 30 Nov. 2015.

banking, and finance.18 They are estimated to control between twenty-five and forty percent of the nations GDP.19 The Guards’ top leadership is highly conservative and anti-reform. In fact, it is widely believed that the Guards were responsible for the 2005 and 2009 elections of “principlist” President Ahmadinejad as a result of their influence in the public sphere as well as fraud and ballot-stuffing.20 After loyally serving the Supreme Leader, Guard members are often promoted to key 18 Nader, Alireza. "The Revolutionary Guards,” The Iran Primer, N.p.: United States Institute of Peace, Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, Web. 3 Nov. 2015.

19 Ottolenghi, Emmanuele, "Inside Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps,” The Pasardan (2012): n. pag, The Pasdaran: Inside Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, Jewish Policy Center, Fall 2012. Web, 01 Nov. 2015.

20 Nader, 2015

government positions such as president, governors, ambassadors, employees in the Supreme Leader’s office, heads of government-owned companies, members of parliament, and ministers of Commerce, Defense, Economics, Intelligence, Interior, Islamic Guidance, and Oil. The Guards’ power is derived from patronage and thus constitutionally unfounded and constitutionally unchecked.21 The IRGC also enjoys widespread impunity.

Simply put, the nonviolent campaigns like the Green Movement simply cannot sustain the IRGC’s consistent, brutal attacks over a long period. The IRGC routinely abridges the rights of Iranian citizens and exercises power through murder, torture, 21 Jahanbegloo, 23.

Naqshe Jahan Square, Iran . Photo by Sam Jasmine Alavi the stanford journal on muslim affairs

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intimidation, bribery, assault, and arbitrary arrests with little to no repercussions.22 Mr. Qalibaf, the national police chief of Tehran in 1999 and presidential hopeful in the 2013 elections, boasted in his election campaign, “I was among those carrying out beatings on the street level and I am proud of that. I didn’t care, I was a high-ranking commander”.23 This climate of intimidation and top-down lawlessness challenges grassroots, nonviolent democratization movements.

Corruption and Checks on Populism in Elections Ahmadinejad’s 2009 presidential election is an easily deconstructed victory—one which served as the tension that catalyzed the 2009 Green Movement. According to official results, Ahmadinejad posted victories across all classes, ages and regions, including in cities in which he is known to be unpopular. “There are 40 million votes cast, and just two hours after polls had closed they announced Ahmadeinjad’s victory; and these votes are hand counted in Iran,” Iranian expert Karim Sadjapour argues. “Another example I give is that Moussavi, who is an ethnic Azeri Turk, lost the province of Iranian Azerbaijan. This is the equivalent of Barack Obama losing the African American vote to John McCain in 2008”.24 Yet, in hindsight, this was merely the tipping point. Iranian elections are reportedly rife with corruption.

Yet, an important feature of the Green Movement was that all three Green Movement leaders were prominent politicians, not external reformers. They 22 Bruno, Greg, Jayshree Bajoria, and Jonathan Masters, "Iran's Revolutionary Guards." CFR Back-grounders, Council on Foreign Relations, 14 June 2014, Web. 30 Nov. 2015.

23 Freeman, Colin, "Iran’s 'Democratic Elections’ Only Missing One Thing - Choice,” The Telegraph, Telegraph Media Group, 8 May 2013, Web. 30 Nov. 2015.

24 Taheri, and Sadjadpour, "Was the Iranian Election Rigged?" Interview by CNN, CNN. N.p., 15 June 2009, Web. 16 Nov. 2015.

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continue to pursue political aspirations under the current regime through the electoral process. One of the three leaders, Houssein Moussavi, published the viewpoint, “If we move out of the constitutional framework, we would face uncontrollable anarchy”.25 Yet, the constitutional framework currently protects the rights of the Supreme Leader and the IRGC to edit out the political voices they do not want to hear. The Green Movement protesters wants to make their voices heart within the Iranian system but the system is unwilling and unable to listen.

Electoral corruption, constitutional checks on populism, and societal anti-Western prejudice contribute to a political climate that is poised to strike down nonviolent movements like the Green Movement.

Suppression is easy, and the will of the people is optional for consideration.

The Green Movement tripped on these challenges early, before it even truly defined itself as a movement. Unfortunately, these challenges are still quite ingrained in Iranian political society.

Is Democratization Possible Without Regime Change?

The question then becomes: is democratization at all feasible under the current Islamic regime? Is total revolution necessary for change? Many American scholars and politicians still view regime overthrow as necessary for democracy.

They see the Islamic Republic of 1979 as ideologically opposed to democratic values, unlikely to improve its civil rights and political freedom record through natural means.26 However, others—such as leaders of the Green Movement—believe the Islamic Republic’s constitutional rhetoric is not at odds with democracy. The potential and the popular desire for progressive 25 Sahimi, Muhammad, "The Political Evolution of Mousavi,” Tehran Bureau, PBS, 16 Feb. 2010, Web,30 Nov. 2015.

26 Jahanbegloo, 38.

Lotfollah Mosque, Iran . Photo by Sam Jasmine Alavi development will drive democratization in a way that does not threaten religious and cultural norms.27 When discussing the prospects of democracy in Iran, it is important to reconcile the differences between Western democracy and democracy in its definitive essence. The Western interpretation stems largely from the writings of Enlightenment philosophers like John Locke and Thomas Jefferson, thinkers who marry the structure’s principle and structure, producing a narrow and inflexible understanding of an inherently broad ideal. Western democracy couples naturally with ideas of capitalism, secularism, intellectualism, and societal equality, yet democracy in its purest form can and does exist without those aspects.

27 Moussawi, Ibrahim, Shi'ism and the Democratisation Process in Iran: With a Focus on Wilayat Al-Faqih, London: Saqi, 2011, Print, 7.

The post 1979 Iranian government emphasizes stark contrast between Iranian democracy and American democracy in its rhetoric. Referring to Western pressure to liberalize, Ayatollah Khomeini said in 1979, ”Don’t listen to those who speak of democracy. They all are against Islam.

They want to take the nation away from its mission. We will break all the poison pens of those who speak of nationalism, democracy, and such things”.28 Yet, in Khomeini’s rhetoric, he views “democracy” and “those who speak of democracy” in two different camps. In a statement to the minister of finance in 1979, he wrote, “In the world there is no democracy better than our democracy. Such a thing has never before been seen”.29 He rejected naming the post-revolution regime the “Islamic Democratic Republic,” because he believed 28 Jahanbegloo, 6.

29 Abrahamian, Ervand. Khomeinism: Essays on the Islamic Republic. Berkeley: U of California, 1993. Print.

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adding the word democratic would imply that Islam is an undemocratic religion, a view he rejected.30

Rouhani presidency, it is important to note hey are institutionalized in the state’s founding literature.

Constitutionally, the Iranian government does protect some democratic elements.

It operates under the idea of wilayat alfaqih or “guardianship of the jurist,” a concept that deviates from the two-sided idea of a social contract to derive authority from both above (religion) and below (the people). Shi’ism itself is progressive in that it permits independent reasoning and the evolution of religious thinking.

The provision of shura or “consultation” ensures the central role of the populace in fusing divine and mundane values into an Islamic republic. This idea deviates from the American pillar of separation of church and state; however, it is still democratic in that it accounts for the will of the people.31

Recently, the Islamic Republic has tilted organically towards democratization.

Throughout the Second Republic of Rafasanjani (1989-1997), the Islamic Republic witnessed “de-Islamization through Islamic principles,” as Moussawi writes.33 The government has experimented with cultural norms, exemplified in increasingly progressive women’s rights policies that allow women in Iran to lead men in prayer, divorce their husbands, travel at will, and receive an education.34 With seventy percent of Iran within the 1529 age group, 70,000 web blogs facilitating spread of liberalization, thirty percent of young adults unemployed, and double digit inflation, it is clear that change—whether through intra-system reform or holistic revolution—is imminent.35 Reforms that moderate the power of the Supreme Leader, end military impunity, promote free speech and electoral integrity, and combat the conflation of the idea of “democracy” with the idea of the West are necessary to create a climate for organic democratization.

The constitution enshrines provisions for “equality (for men and women) before the law,” “raising the level of public awareness…through the proper use of the press, mass media, and other means,” “free education,” “elimination of despotism and autocracy,” and “abolition of undesirable discrimination,” in Article 3 entitled “State Goals.” This is supplemented by multiple articles elaborating on the rights of due process, rights to housing and welfare, right to choose work, right to assemble, right to privacy, and application of these rights to all people regardless of race, sex, religion, or language, to name a few.

Furthermore, the constitution provides for elections and referendums.32 Yet, due to the aforementioned inefficiency of checks and balances, Iran’s political climate is defined by its Supreme Leader and thus the Iranian government today regularly violates these principles. However, in light of an aging Khamenei and the increasingly progressive 30 Abrahamian, Ervand. Khomeinism: Essays on the Islamic Republic. Berkeley: U of California, 1993. Print.

31 Moussawi, 9.

32 Islamic Republic of Iran, Iran- Constitution, International Constitutional Law, 1995, Web. 30 Nov. 2015.

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33 Moussawi, 21.

34 Sundquist, Victor H. "Iran Democratization Part I: A Historical Case Study of the Iranian Green Movement." Diss.

Henley Putnam U, 2013. Journal of Strategic Security 6.1 (2013): page, 29.

35 Sreberny, Annabelle, and Gholam Khiabany, Blogistan: The Internet and Politics in Iran, London: I.B. Tauris, 2010, Print, 23-25

Adaptable Islam: Lessons from Four Months in Central Asia Ross Nevin B.A. Political Science and Economics '17, St. Olaf College

The onion truck that I had hitched a ride on sped through the foothills of the Tian Shan mountains on our way to Arslanbob in Kyrgyzstan, apparently the original home of walnuts. As the sky became dark, my driver suddenly stopped and started fidgeting, as if trying to tell me something.

He mumbled something in Kyrgyz and looked around in distress.

“Namaz?” I asked, noticing the setting sun and his long beard. He nodded and smiled, happy that I understood, and then hurried off to a nearby mosque before continuing our journey.

Central Asia is one of the regions that we in the West know the least about. Herman Cain, a conservative American presidential candidate in 2012, famously referenced the region when he said it was unimportant for him as a potential president to know about “Uzbeki-beki-beki-stan-stan.” In my time traveling there and studying the Farsi/ Tajik language, I found a region with a complex history, struggling to find its place in the modern world. The five countries that comprise Central Asia—Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan – willingly or unwillingly were made to forge their own paths after the Soviet Union’s collapse twenty-five years ago. After such a long time under a totalitarian colonial government, the “stans” were suddenly forced to define what it means to be Tajik, Kyrgyz or Uzbek.

Further complicating the matter is the fact that before the Soviets, these identities were usually only loosely defined, or not defined at all. As Central Asia searches for its identity apart from Russia—from the bleak Kazakh steppe, to Kyrgyzstan’s sheep clogged roadways, to the ancient maddrasah’s of Samarkand—the region’s adherence to Islam is one of key features of this distinction.

After a century of secularizing occupation, the organization and narrative of Islam in the region is fractured. The new nationalist states, in the Soviet tradition, attempt to use or control the religion in order to serve their purposes. Opposed to them are traditional Islamist factions, influenced by neighboring Afghanistan to the South, who would have Central Asia remade into several Islamic Republics. In this tug-ofwar, Conservative hijab wearing women are posed in contrast to those still reveling in Russian vodka-drinking debauchery.

Half-a-millennia since the region prospered with the Silk Road, it is still unavoidably a place between other places.

In Uzbekistan, the government has sought to consolidate a national identity around the ancient emperor Amir Temur, also known as Tamerlane, and the wealth brought to the region by his conquests and the silk road. Inconvenient facts, such as the empire’s use of the Persian language and Islamic underpinnings, the stanford journal on muslim affairs

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are unimportant. In fact, the specifics of history as a whole are not the emphasis.

An enormous statue of the late, longtime Uzbek president Ismail Karimov is placed next to the dramatic maddrasahs, or schools of Islamic learning, at the Registan in Samarkand, as if to say that the two monuments are one in the same. What is truly important is the fact that they as Uzbeks did this and have the potential for more in this line of greatness.

The nomadic Kazakh and Kyrgyz cultures do not allow for such grandiose displays of piety as the mosques of Uzbekistan, but this does not mean that their religion is less strong. I think back to a young Kazakh, who happened to play professional soccer in the US, spontaneously and passionately tell me how he may not always go to the

mosque, but that his morning prayer is the most important part of his day.

After his prayer, he can go about his day without fear of death, knowing that he has completed his obligations. Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan’s closer physical proximity to Russia as well as a deeper integration with Russian culture may create more liberal, secular public life, but Islam is still ubiquitous at the personal level. It comes out at meals and family gatherings, and it is just as meaningful as for those who adopt a more traditional, public approach to their faith.

Tajikistan, where I spent the most time, is perhaps the most interesting. Tajikistan’s economy is highly dependent on remittances sent back from Tajiks working in Russia. When sanctions were put on

Fann Mountains, Tajikistan. Photo by Atussa Motasham.

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Russia after the annexation of Crimea in 2014, the Tajiks were negatively impacted.

As the country struggled economically and its government had consolidated its grip on power, Islam filled the void. Further complicating the Tajiks’ situation is their shared border and shared Persian language with Afghanistan. During the civil war following the country’s independence, Islamist rebels received aid from the mujahedeen in Afghanistan. Now, the government often cracks down on public displays of Islam such as the hijab or long beards, in the hope that it will refocus Tajik nationalism and prevent a revolution.

had shown this foreigner that, at least in some ways, the Tajiks were the ones who were actually on the right path.

Particularly in Tajikistan, Islam has become a way to transcend the difficulties of life in Central Asia’s poorest country.

Islam gives them something to be proud of. Even in the supposedly areligious military, this undercurrent is strong. Stuck at a police post as I hitchhiked to the Pamir mountains in the east of the country, the police captain quizzed me about my religion. Was I Christian? I replied in classic post-college-find-myself fashion that I was still figuring things out. I added that I believe in one god, which usually would stop the questions. He shook his head, as if I wasn’t understanding.

Earlier on in Tajikistan, we drove on a onelane road, barely etched into the side of a mountain along the Afghan border, and I nervously asked my driver how many times he had made this trip.

“Which religion is the best?” he asked.

“I can’t say that” I replied. “All can be good.”

“No, you have to pick,” He countered.

“I won’t say” I returned.

“No, choose!” he demanded.

“Ok, Islam” I offered, trying to bring the exchange to a close.

I travelled in Central Asia for nearly four months, primarily hitchhiking and sometimes using trains and shared taxis.

This region, with only some modest oil and gas reserves, is mostly forgotten by the West. Situated between giant mountains and vast desert and scrubland, hundreds of miles from a coast, life here can be quite hard. Despite these difficulties, wherever I went, I was more often than not met with immeasurable kindness.

He held up all ten of his fingers and replied, “If you believe in God, then you can believe in me.”

I think back to this as one of the key moments of my trip, and in some ways representative of the trip as a whole.

Central Asia is caught between Russian and Middle Eastern culture, Islam and secular life, huge mountains and rushing rivers. But in each of these contrasts, each side is not the other’s opposite. We spoke a Persian language on Russian-made roads.

We admired the river while clinging to the mountain. We prayed to God, but trusted in well-traveled hands. These forces both fight and support one another, giving this place – a place inextricably between other places—a unique and diverse identity of its own.

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He sat back contentedly. He had won and the stanford journal on muslim affairs

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Azadi (Freedom) Original Artwork Mina Mohtasham B. F. A. ’21, The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts

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Beloved and The Interpellation of the Poetic I Sarp Celikel B.S. Biology, Minor in Comparative Literature '20, Stanford University The beloved in classical ghazal poetry, to which the poetic I speaks either as through apostrophe or through set images such as the cup-bearer, is ambiguous.1 The repeated you to which the poem is built around is itself elusive, not only in its relation of unrequited love or of a separated union to the poetic I, but also in its very being.2 It can either be the patron, God, an ideal image or beloved in physical, sexual reality.3 In Hafez’s and many other classical poets poems, this ambiguity is played at both for artistic quality and to elaborate and interpellate an elusive beloved who does not respond back.1,3 This essay will focus on three poems by early-20th century poets, and aim to analyze the use and interpellation of an elusive beloved in order to interpellate back the poetic I. In Ahmet Haşim’s O Belde (That Land)4, Ahmet Shamlu’s Garden of Mirrors5 and Forugh Furrukhzad’s Windows6, the beloved is spoken to and created in different ways, yet the way the poet suspends time, place and images, elaborates dream/poetic space only to be refuted and uses ambiguity, in the end to sustain an understanding of a poetic I in presence, shares similarities.

1 Andrews, Walter G. Black, Najaat. Kalpakli, Mehmet.

Ottoman Lyric Poetry: An Anthology. University of Washington Press, 2006.

2 Huber, Marie. Memories of an Impossible Future: Mehdi Akhavan Sales and the Poetics of Time. Brill, 2017.

3 Davis, Dick. Faces of Love: Hafez and the Poets of Shiraz.

Penguin, 2012.

4 Bezirci, Asım. Ahmet Haşim: Şairliği ve Seçme Şiirleri.

Gözlem Yayınları, October 1979. Karaköy, İstanbul.

5 Mohaghegh, Jason Bahbak. Born Upon the Dark Spear: Selected Poems of Ahmad Shamlu. First Contra Mundum Press, 2015.

6 Wolpé, Sholeh. Sin: Selected Poems of Forugh Farrokhzad.

The University of Arkansas Press, Fayetteville, 2007.

O Belde (That Land) Ahmet Haşim’s O Belde starts out with a tactile image of the sea breeze brushing against the hair of the you in the poem, thus immediately delineates a beloved in physical space. Then follows by interpellating the beloved as a you, watching the sky with looks of sorrowful longing, who does not know how beautiful it is. In the beginning of the poem, in contrast with the beloved in ghazal poetry, the beloved is in proximity to the poetic I and suffers alike from separation and longing. As the first moment of the poem progresses, the beloved is elevated into an idealized figure: the night, the sea and sorrowful thoughts are associated to be caused by the beloved’s presence. However, through the use of the pronoun biz (us), and negative language marking their difference from the rest of humanity, the poetic I stays coupled to the beloved. The physical descriptions surrounding them become more idealized in as the night and the sea are described as silent and nonvibrating. The beloved and the poetic I are united in a suspended physical space and in their separation from the imaginary that land (O belde).

The third and the fourth stanzas start out with the words that land, and focus on the description of the imaginary land. The land may be spoken of as a spatialization of the beloved in ghazal poetry to which union with is impossible yet is always longed for. The poetic I asks the question of what the land is and through its descriptions the stanford journal on muslim affairs

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idealizes the space. The poetic I associates the land with the calm of sleep, virginal dreams and idealized images of women who are of the night, melancholy, beautiful, naïve and equal. However, these women are also described as searching calm and quiet, and share an inexpressible sorrow near a sick sea and absent-minded night.

Thus, the description of the idealized land itself slips into melancholy. The women become more like the you delineated in the first stanza. The images and metaphors surrounding a suspended space extends that of the first stanza. These advances in the poem, open to question whether the first, more physical moment and the latter idealized one is separated – whether any of these descriptions is suspended space and time were real or were to be taken together.

In the fourth stanza, the poetic I opens this up to question itself.

The fourth stanza progresses with a series of questions investigating the whereabouts, existence, even the truth, of that land. The poetic I revokes all it has said before and responds to much ambiguity with a single word, “Bilmem…”

(I don’t know), and suspends all judgment.

This is neither a resignation nor a change in opinion. Before this moment, the poem was focused on creating the sense of an ambiguous relation to what is longed for.

With this moment, the poetic I embraces ambiguity and creates itself through all that it has described before, although it silently admits that they are not grounded in reality nor existence. However, right after this moment, the poetic I re-affirms itself in physical space by saying all that he knows is that he is present there with the you next to the blue sea, which are its muses. In a sense, the entire poem, was the description of a suspended ambiguity to be revoked in order to create the poetic I.

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Windows Forugh Forrukhzad’s Windows, in contrast with Ahmet Haşim’s O Belde, does not make use of a you; however, throughout the poem, the beloved, or the absence of it, and the search for the poetic I are present.

Starting off the poem, are the descriptions of a window, which is associated with the instrument of an objectless love. The first stanza of the poem is the description of the window as something for seeing, hearing, opening up love and inviting in the sun.

Then, the poem shifts to the history of the I in the poem. The I is described as someone coming from the “land of dolls,” “of unpaved alleys of innocence,” and “from arid seasons” which can be associated with the poet’s past. However, it can never be simplified to that as many defamiliarizing images and uncanny metaphors that are not necessarily rooted in reality such as “the roots of carnivorous plants” and the swerving butterfly sharply pinned to the book accompany these. One thing that can be said about the I in the poem is that it’s an I struggling for expression, against all the history behind it and the frustrations it has experienced. This idea becomes clearer in the following stanza, where the I states that it ”must, must, must deliriously love” after its “blood gushed from my [its] unglued temples” and when its life was nothing but the tick tocks on the wall. The repetition of the line “One window is enough for me.” right after this stanza connects the window and the I struggling to love. Love here is to be understood as a longing for expression and existence of the I itself as it will be revealed further in the poem. Love here is an objectless desire, let loose on the subject (I) itself, and the window can become its instrument.

The first line of the following stanza associates the window with a “moment of comprehension, perception, silence,”

in contrast with the tempestuous rhythm and flux of the following language of the poem. The I yearns for this moment of silent comprehension, and this is the goal of its struggle. However, it is skeptic about its possibility, its possible accomplishment through dreams or the medium, which it’s currently expressing itself, poetry, which idolizes a chaste beloved to long for. The poetic I claims that “Dreams always fall from the heights of their own naiveté and perish.” In the lines “Was the woman buried in the shroud of longing and chastity, my youth?” the poetic I is in conversation with its own medium of conversation, by challenging the set images and canons for what the beloved is and how to relate to it. Therefore, the poetic I’s expression, even the poetic I itself, is paradoxical and it is aware of this. Yet, the poem, and thus, the poetic I, is created through this paradox. Still keeping in mind the sociopolitical and autobiographical contexts of the poem, this poem is not just about the constraints of these factors. The poet is struggling through the constraints of being an I and the medium of poetry itself.

Although the poem appears to have many disconnected images, and is ambiguous in place and time, the sense of constraint and the struggle of the poetic I unites them into a poem. The disconnections elaborate the objectless desire the subject is experiencing, as well as the impulse against constraint.

itself. The constraint in the physical space of the poem is room that the I inhabits, which connects to the final moment of the poem.

The sense of constraint is present throughout the poem. “The walnut sapling has grown tall enough to tell its leaves the meaning of the wall.” is a great example of imagery that conveys this sense. The line that immediately follows it, “Ask of the mirror the name of your liberator.” takes the sense of constraint to the level of selfreflection and the paradoxical nature of the poetic I in that, it still needs a liberator that seems separated from itself, although it is

Garden of the Mirror by Ahmed Shamlu is more straightforward in its construction of selfhood and self-expression through the beloved, regarding O Belde and Windows. In Garden of the Mirror, Ahmed Shamlu reflects on the constraints of self-expression and the creative process associated with it through the medium of poetry. In the suspended physical space the poem creates, within an ambiguous

In the final two stanzas of the poem, the poetic I questions its sense of time and past and the physical entities around it, but desires for a sense of its affirmation of existence, which it is somewhat aware but never can be sure of. Like the imagery of the mirror, this is paradoxical, for it needs an Other to fulfill this desire, thus cannot be independent. This moment elevates the desire for expression into a desire for existence, which is in constraint. Love here is this desire, the window the instrument, the beloved an ambiguity of the objectless desire that reverts back onto the subject, the poetic I. The poetic I desires the beloved to speak to itself so that it can be assured “by a nod of its sense of existence.”

The line “Speak to me” is repeated to this effect. Similar to O Belde, this is a moment where the poetic I revokes the beloved and all that it has said into a paradox, creating itself through this, and finally interpellating itself in ambiguous mirror of presence that makes use of the beloved in the search for itself. The moment of interpellation in this poem is powerful, since it is neither verbal nor visual, as the I desires it to be, but it is about presence, and thus remains ambiguous: “I am intimate with the sun.”

Garden of the Mirror

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time, the poem’s main action is the poetic I in the poem with a light in its hand walking towards a mirror, where all else is in blackness. The beloved that is spoken at does not appear until later in the poem and is ambiguous in that it may be the poetic I’s reflection. Thus, the poetic I is in conversation with itself through its interpellation of the beloved.

After the first stanza that briefly sets the place and the action, the following two stanzas are hard to pin down. Yet the mention of the poetic I’s scream in its search for the sun, which may be thought of as the idolized object of desire in the dark (or the beloved), “with a disheartened” prayer, conveys the sense that preceding turbulent imagery describes the journey of the poetic I towards the mirror across.

After these stanzas, the poetic I starts to speak at the you, which is highly ambiguous. It is described as something that comes from the sun, the daybreaks, the mirrors and silken clothes. The sun, and the daybreak associated to it, is the idolized image and the savior from the darkness and despair the poetic I is in, and therefore, is in close connection to the beloved in classical ghazal poetry.

The mirror connects the you back to the physical scope of the poem. It is the only other source of light in the blackness, but also, is only the reflection of the poetic I’s candle. Therefore, the light source the I is seeking, the object of the I’s desire which is the beloved when praised into idolatry as the sun, is the I’s reflection.

The following stanza, revokes God (possible mystical connections of the poem) and fire (the physical properties of the space of the poem) and highlights the poetic I’s continued search despite the presence of these and that what is searched for is the reflected gaze, not necessarily the 24 avicenna

fire. The poem itself becomes the search without the object, just a search “in the breach between two perishings, in the void between two solitudes,” where one is the poetic I, and the other is its reflection. The poetic I is aware of this, which is conveyed through its awareness of its power on the candle its candle in the line “your breath within my bare hands.” And out of this selfimposed tension reflected in the poem, the poetic I arises with the disconnected line: “I arise!” However, this is not the resolution of the poem, if there is any resolution. The I’s definite construction would be defeating the purpose of the search in the first place. Both to continue the poetic search and to play with the transcendent, infinite idol of classical poetry, the poetic I constructs a space of artificial infinity by placing two mirrors against each other. This final moment reverses the construction of the poetic I as an interpellation of the interpellated “you,” as setting the I as a mirror, another center of ambiguous reflection within, and constructing, the infinite.

Ahmet Haşim’s O Belde, Forugh Forrukhzad’s Windows and Ahmed Shamlu’s Garden of the Mirror all describe an ambiguous you in its connection to the beloved in classical ghazal poems, that in turn, interpellates the poetic I which either revokes the beloved or the suspended imageries of the physical surroundings.2 The elusive and ambiguous beloved becomes the object of the poem in order to represent the struggle for the poetic I’s expression. In all poems, elements of the poem are revoked by the poetic highlight this. Through this, the poem becomes a creative resonance of, as Mehdi Akhavan Sales puts it, a vibrating bridge (pol-e larzendeh) between the poetic I and the beloved – whose existence or nonexistence is beside the point.

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Majnoona Madinah Marium Abdur Rahman B.A. English Language and Literature ’12, University of Michigan

This year I was blessed with the opportunity to perform the hajj, or the pilgrimage that Muslims complete at least once in their lifetime. It was an out of body experience, walking in the footsteps of legends and under the shadow of antiquity. Nevertheless, the people and quotidian rituals of the present juxtaposed themselves on this historic experience for me, and I fell deeply in love. Sitting in the mosque of Prophet Muhammad, in the city of Madinah, I was moved to write this poem.

This is your Madinah: With its cashmere heat that drapes heavily over your eyelids and shoulders, And the serendipity of running into new friends who already seem like old friends Again and again.

And the carpets, Red and green, When they roll them up and stack them every night like shawarmas1 on a truck, Mopping the marble, Cool and hard beneath your tired feet as you return to your bed after surfing through the quicksand current of black bodies to touch the green carpet.

There are children running outside in senseless smiling circles, and women drinking cardamommed coffee and eating an astounding number of dates, laughing like a flock of ravens perched in a circle, ready to fly at the call of the next prayer.

In the little hours of the night you look forward to the first call, knowing it will be cool and fresh as you walk through the forest of still closed umbrellas, And the red carpet will be empty, only dotted by dozing women and a few hunched over Qurans, Like the punctuation marks of the poem you wanted to write about Madinah.

You have the entire white palace of Ahmed all to yourself for that moment.

Salla Allah alaihi wa Salam2.

With its striped arches of white and grey and white and grey and white that make you overwhelmed at their beauty and also slightly dizzy, And the mountains of identical waqf 'ed3 folding chairs and perfectly stacked Qurans that soothe what little of your OCD self you brought with you to Madinah.

You've left most of that fussy part of you at home, for Madinah is not for fussers.

The people here glide through life, 1 an Arabic sandwich roll, like a burrito 2 Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon him 3 donate (waqf’ed: slang for donated)

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Like the game of fill-in-the-first-line Tetris that ensues with every iqama4.

Even the Raven security guards half-heartedly shuffle through your open, outstretched purse, a sliver of their inner personalities slipping from under their black mantles in the high-topped shoes and bling watches they casually display as they stretch and yawn between early morning searches.

And then light cracks the sky and suddenly there are rows and rows of people around you.

Shurooq5 leans into the masjid through the ceiling as the army of golden domes slide into Sajdah6 and there are now squares of the blue, blue sky above you.

Outside, the umbrellas will be blooming like lilies into a white and blue garden of shade and birds sail through sea of arches like they haven't a fear in the world.

And they don't.

Because they know my Madinah.

Let me take you to my Madinah.

Madinah is a state of mind, Of character and brotherhood And remembering to be kind.

Madinah is yearning for accepted dua7, What makes you cry For your Beloved's ummah8.

Madinah is inspiration and love And heart-wrenching closeness To your Lord up above.

Madinah is shafa'a9 and shifaa10, Bathing in the downpour of Quran, Athaan11, and iqamaa.

My Madinah makes you majnoon12, Star-struck at the beauty -All Engulfing, you will drown in it.

But not for the love of gilded arches and colored carpets, Or any other person absorbed in their own sins.

Not love for anything or anyone illa Allah13 And love of the Habeeb14 who resides therein.

4 the final call to prayer 5 daybreak 6 prostration to God 7 supplication or prayer 8 community of all Muslims 9 the Prophet Muhammad’s prayer for his followers 10 cure for all physical, emotional, spiritual ailments 11 call to prayer 12 crazy in Love 13 except Allah 14 beloved

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L'affaire du Voile Intégral Simar Malhotra B.A. English ’19, Stanford University

“Once we have accepted the principle that it is legitimate to prohibit non-offensive behavior simply because the majority disapproves of it the entire edifice of freedom is threatened.”

- Paul Dumouchel (The Burqa Affair across Europe)

In March 2015, a Muslim woman donning a headscarf dropped off her two children at school in Toulouse. She was in her final month of pregnancy. As she was walking on the street, two men approached her, knocked her to the ground and hit her several times before one of them took out a knife. The men grabbed her headscarf and pulled it out screaming “pas de ça chez nous [none of this here].”

With rising Islamophobia in the atmosphere as a result of extremist activity, strident debates about integration in western society have arisen, and one of the ways the issue of integration is addressed is through legislations against the use of the Islamic veil in France. The Islamic veil and France have shared a contentious relationship since 1989, when three schoolgirls were suspended from their studies for wearing the hijab. Although these episodes have been masked behind laïcité, or French secularism, one particular public action, which is overtly xenophobic is l’affaire du voile integral, or “the affair of the face veil.”

In 2010, the French parliament announced a prohibition on face-concealments, banning individuals from wearing facecovering gear, including the burqa and niqab, in public spaces. A burqa is a onepiece veil that covers the face and the body, leaving just a mesh screen for the eyes. A niqab leaves the area around the eyes free, and both are worn only by conservative Muslim women. This prohibition stimulated discussion about inherent bias in the law against Muslims. Even though the ban does not mention Islam in its language, the political climate in France and the rhetoric surrounding the law targeted veiled Muslim women and hence the colloquialism ‘burqa ban.’ The burqa ban imposes a fine of 150 euros on women who defy it or requires citizenship lessons and a penalty of 30,000 euros and a jail term for men who force women to wear one.

Given the nature of the punishment itself, it can be extrapolated that the law aims at “protecting women from being forced to wear”1 the burqa by the male members of their families. This is representative of the general political context of the ban, especially in light of former president Nicolas Sarkozy’s right-winged comments against Islam, such as “The burqa is not welcome in France.”2 This ban on the burqa was applied to serve purposes of security 1 "French Senate approves 'Burka ban'" The Telegraph.

Telegraph Media Group, 14 Sept. 2010. Web. 07 May 2017.

2 Chrisafis, Angelique. "Nicolas Sarkozy says Islamic veils are not welcome in France." The Gaurdian. Guardian News and Media, 22 June 2009. Web. 07 May 2017.

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and female dignity. However, seven years after the ban, it seems that the burqa ban didn’t do so much to improve the status of women. On the contrary, it led to futile, sometimes aggressive outcomes by fueling hate and Islamophobia in French society.

In the Aristotle’s time, the rule of law was introduced to ensure that a nation is governed not by decisions of individuals but by a set of laid out rules and regulations to warrant that the “law should govern.”3 According to Paul Dumouchel, a just law has the following three aspects: It does not accommodate any injustice and does not penalize a particular group for the sake of it, it works towards the benefit of all, and it restores instead of dissolving public order.4 However, in addition to these, the law also serves to establish standards in society.

Because the law exists for the betterment of society, when it’s implemented, it brings with it a rightness that whatever it affirms is correct. So, what happens when a law is implemented that affects only a small group? How effective is it in its execution, and what repercussions does it have?

From a moral standpoint, is it okay if a law allots freedom to someone but only after snatching it away from another? The freedom of choice is imperative for any human, and taking that away is a breach of personal rights. In this light, the burqa ban is a totalitarian gesture against veiled Muslim women, so that their “liberation” is more damaging than effective.

who are perceived as dangerous.”5 In 2004, before the burqa ban, the French Code of Education was amended to incorporate a law which banned all conspicuous religious symbols, like the hijab, the turban and the skullcap, in state schools. Additionally, in 2016, the mayor of Cannes banned the burkini, Muslim swimwear similar to a body suit, on public beaches. These bans are reflective of Lacorne’s statement about France’s attitude towards immigrant, specifically Islamic, practices.

The burqa ban is complicated because it has many different stakeholders, each group with a direct or indirect concern about the ban, and justifiable yet controversial implications. The French politicians and legislators argue that the ban promotes public security and empowerment of Muslim women. Some veiled Muslim women claim that it restricts them further.

Muslim feminists support it because it upholds feminist values. These proponents and opponents of the ban create a complex web that must be analyzed to assess the effectiveness of the burqa ban.

That the burqa ban implicitly aims at the French Muslim community is asserted by French political scientist Denis Lacorne, a visiting scholar at Stanford, who said in an interview that France puts more weight on the “religious practices of new immigrants

French politicians cited many reasons to ban the full-face veil. Public security was a strong argument. With CCTVs as the primary mode of surveillance, identification of someone with a face veil becomes close to impossible. Thus, to prevent terror attacks and maintain public security, legislators decided to resolve the challenges to identification posed by face veils by imposing a blanket ban on them.

This reasoning is less provocative because many other Muslim-majority countries, like Chad and Niger, have taken legal measures to discourage burqas and niqabs for the same safety issues, especially in the

3 “Aristotle on the Rule of Law.” Aftera.net. N.p., 15 Jan, 2015. Wed. 11 June 2017.

4 Dumouchel, Paul. “Interdire la burqa?" Espirit. Editions Esprit, 01 Aug. 2012. Web. 11 June 2017.

5 Goldman Corrie. "Burqas? Veils? Stanford visiting scholar Denis Lacorne speaks on secularism in France and the U.S." Stanford University. N.p., 21 Feb. 2013. Web. 07 May 2017.

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face of rising terror attacks.6 However, there’s another, more controversial and widely quoted justification for the burqa ban: the burqa is inherently oppressive. French politicians maintain the opinion that the burqa ban was essential to maintain “values of individualism and human dignity.”7 Sarkozy, an ardent supporter of the ban, declared that the burqa was a sign of subjugation of women. Banning it in public spaces was an attempt to liberate women from oppression and increase integration in the French society.

By using laws and legislations, France seems to iterate a colonial, ‘in-needof-repair’ attitude towards Islam. This mindset is problematic and the solution ineffective because of a belief maintained by politicians themselves: French culture and values are different from Islamic values. Samuel Huntington argues in Clash of Civilizations? that culture and divergent values are foremost in rousing conflict among civilizations.8 And culture, he deems, stems extensively from religion.

Huntington divides the world into eight culture-based civilizations, two of them the Western and the Islamic civilizations.

He further claims that the tension between these two civilizations originates from the religious differences between Islam and ‘Western Christianity’, which shapes the western world, including France.9 Keeping

in

mind

the

fundamental

6 Blair, David. "Why West Africa's Muslim-majority states are banning the burqa." The Telegraph. Telegraph Media Group, 02 May 2016. Web. 11 June 2017.

7 Coleman, Isobel. "Why Does France Want to Ban Burqas?"

Isobel Coleman RSS. N.p., n.d. Web. 11 June 2017.

8 Huntington, Samuel P. "The Clash of Civilizations?"

Foreign Affairs 72.No. 3 (1993): 22-49. Web. 9 Huntington, Samuel P. The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2011. Print.

dissimilarities in the Islamic and Western cultures, consider this: Robb Willer of Stanford University developed a theory of reforming morals through which he argues that the reason why liberals and conservatives in the U.S. are less likely to persuade each other to understand the other’s point of view is because each uses his/her own moral values to argue a point.10 Applied to French society, because of fundamental differences in Islamic and French values, viewing Islamic culture through a western value-system and using this method to bring about change (as in the case of the burqa ban) will lead to the same futile consequences as with the liberals and conservatives. What may come across as oppressive to French society might actually be a demonstration of someone’s faith. Thus, using a western lens to ‘fix’ Islamic practices without heeding essential differences in cultural values will not prove as fruitful as the French politicians imagine.

These interpretations of the burqa ban call attention to what Robert Delgado describes as the stock story and the counter story.

Delgado describes the counter story as the story of the “outgroups”, the marginalized community, outranked by the groups that make the top-most section of racial hierarchy.11 The stock story refers to the majority group, the widely circulated and accepted story of any issue. With the burqa ban, the stock story is that of the West – the burqa is oppressive, it represents gender inequality, it inhibits social interaction, it can be used to disguise terrorists, it does not comply with French values, a nd it is 10 Willer, Robb. "How to have better political conversations." Robb Willer: How to have better political coversations | TED Talk | TED.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 07 May 2017.

11 Delgado, Richard. "Storytelling for Oppositionists and Others: A Plea for Narrative." Michigan Law Review. 87.8 (1989): 2411. Web.

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un-secular. The stock story is told from an all-knowing point-of-view with an attitude of superiority. Because it becomes the predominant rhetoric, it finds its way into the legal sphere, suppressing the voices of the veil-wearing population.

But what, then, is the counter story?

A study published in Open Society Foundations revealed why some Muslim women wear the full-face veil in France.12 It shows that of the 32 women interviewed from various regions and social classes of France, most claimed to adopt the veil “as a part of a spiritual journey” and only one remarked that she had been asked to wear it by her husband, who was an imam13.

Many stated that they “felt well” and protected by the veil. They experienced a “deeper relationship with God,” which was quite like “adoration” for them. Some younger girls also adopted the niqab in response to the burqa ban as a display of solidarity with their religious identity.

There is, however, contention among Muslims with regards to the counter story.

There are some feminist Islamic leaders who, despite being practicing Muslims, show ardent support towards the ban.

Their argument is that the burqa “dangerously equates piety with the disappearance of women.”14 They claim that the ban would help disintegrate patriarchal oppression inherent to the act of veiling. Mona Eltahawy, a Muslim feminist scholar, argues against those who think that the burqa ban deprives women of identity. She claims that “it’s the burqa that deprives a woman of identity” by silencing women behind 12 "Unveiling the Truth: Why 32 Muslim Women Wear the Full-Face Veil in France." Open Society Foundations. N.p., n.d. Web. 11 June 2017.

13 person who prays at the mosque 14 Sztokman, Elana Maryles. "The Feminist Debate Over Frances Burqa Ban." The Forward. N.p., 13 Apr. 2011. Web. 11 June 2017.

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the veil.15 In an interview with the Chicago Maroon, Fadela Amara, a feminist Muslim leader, states that “the veil is not a religious symbol” and calls the “religious symbolism of the veil a historic lie.”16 This notion is supported by Mr. Dalil Boubakeur, the former rector of the Paris Grand Mosque, who points out that the practice of veiling began before the advent of Islam.17 The ban, according to Amara, protects women “from the projects,” freeing them from men who enforce the veil, and “engages [women] in a process of emancipation.”18 She also boldly claims that “women who wear the burqa by choice do not exist.”19 This is a broad generalization, especially in light of the aforementioned study conducted by Open Society Foundations.

Regardless, even if one considers that the burqa ban is protecting these women, it is still necessary to understand the way in which the law is tackling this supposed subjugation and whether it is effective and democratic. One way the burqa ban can be viewed is as a law vaguely modelled on the concept of affirmative action in the U.S. or protective discrimination in India. The concept is built on the simple notion that in order to empower a suppressed group, the privileged group must endure a sacrifice. This kind of legislation can initiate permanent change in society and improve the lives of the disadvantaged. In the case of the burqa, Eltahawy’s and Amara’s assertions make it clear that there are some 15 Eltahawy, Mona. "Ban the Burqa." The New York Times.

The New York Times, 02 July 2009. Web. 11 June 2017.

16 Bever, Celia. "French activist lifts the veil on the burqa ban." The Chicago Maroon. N.p., n.d. Web. 11 June 2017.

17 Atwill, Nicole. "France: Highlights of Parliamentary Report on the Wearing of the Full Veil (Burqa)." France: Highlights of Parliamentary Report on the Wearing of the Full Veil (Burqa) | Law Library of Congress. N.p., 30 Apr. 2012. Web. 11 June 2017.

18 Ibid.

19 Bever, Celia. "French activist lifts the veil on the burqa ban." The Chicago Maroon. N.p., n.d. Web. 11 June 2017.

women who are indeed forced to wear the veil. Banning the burqa is one way to alleviate their condition. The ban thus gives the disadvantaged women a legal voice to demand liberation. This is a primary argument of politicians and Muslim feminists.

Critics of the burqa ban often fail to acknowledge this value. Nevertheless, this approach is also bringing about harm.

France has a population of 66.8 million people, 57% to 74% of whom voted in favor of the nation-wide ban on the burqa.20 But of the 66.8 million, only 2000 women wear the face-veil. That is 0.003% of the population. Thus, even though the burqa ban applies to all of France, it’s only the veil-wearing population that’s affected by it. This defeats the key idea of the burqa ban, which is to protect all Muslim women. By default, it is solely the women who willingly wear the burqa who are targeted by the ban. Moreover, the practice of wearing the burqa or the niqab is common only among a minority conservative group in Islam – the Salafists. By targeting such a small slice of the national as well as religious population, the burqa ban loses its legitimacy as a tool to uplift all Muslim women. It becomes undemocratic, racist and Islamophobic.

It cannot be denied that even though the burqa ban has helped previously disadvantaged women by allowing them a stronger voice, it has fueled anti-Islamic sentiment in France. In the same study by Open Society Foundations cited earlier, of the 32 women, 30 stated having experienced some form of public, verbal abuse for wearing the veil. Some were told to “Go back to [their] country.” But as discussions about the burqa ban began, many claimed 20 "France uncovered, it hopes." The Economist. The Economist Newspaper, 12 Apr. 2011. Web. 11 June 2017.

that the public abuses and harassment intensified and became the norm, forcing women to think twice before leaving their homes. Far more than oppression from their families, veiled Muslim women face a harmful backlash from the French public.

The ban’s intended purpose of uplifting their status in society thus fails. Some women in the study also stated the burqa ban can result in house arrest for women hailing from ultra-conservative families.

Thus, if the burqa oppressed them in their family, its ban oppresses them in the public sphere. Hence, that which was supposed to ‘protect’ women turned out to further ostracize them.

Because of the association of terror with Islam, Muslims are already stigmatized in the Western world. A poll conducted by Le Figaro in 2012 well before the Charlie Hebdo attacks showed that 43% of the French voters viewed Islam as a threat to national identity. Two-thirds thought it was becoming “too visible” in society.21 The burqa is but a metonym for Islamic practices that are different for the West.

Given these statistics, by introducing laws that condemn these practices, one only expands Islamophobia from an individual to a national level, institutionalizing it in society. By bringing Islamophobia into an “elite political sphere” through with the law, not only is Islam being legitimized as dangerous, but also negative public opinion around it is further exacerbated.22 Thus, even though the burqa ban claims to alleviate the oppression of Muslim women, it actually doesn’t advance them. Instead, the rights women who choose to wear the 21 Guénois, Jean-Marie, and Service Infographie Du Figaro.

"Limage de lislam se dégrade fortement en France." Le Figaro. N.p., 24 Oct. 2012. Web. 11 June 2017.

22 Yazdiha, Haj. "Law as Movement Strategy: How the Islamophobia Movement Institutionalizes Fear Through Legislation." Social Movement Studies 13.2 (2013): 267-74.

Web.

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veil are trampled upon.

The reason why it’s necessary to discuss the burqa ban even today, years after its implementation, is that it continues to send a destructive message to society – that Islam is wrong. As stated earlier, laws and regulations generate a problem-solution model and “focuses the blame of a defined group,” here Muslim men.23 In their debate on the nature of Islam, they represent the West as the savior of the downtrodden. This discussion then shapes public opinion and furthers the cultural divide between Western and Islamic civilizations.

Given the double-edged nature of the current ban, what can really be done to combat the issues stated by law-makers? If public security is the primary concern, we should note that all Muslim women interviewed in the Open Society Foundations study were willing to show their faces at security checks. Further special arrangements can be made in high-security places like airports and banks, as has been done in state schools with the ban on religious symbols. The greater issue is how to tackle oppression, emphasized by both feminists and politicians to justify the burqa ban.

One way female oppression can be confronted, without criminalizing those who willingly wear the veil, is by implementing a law that bans coercion of the veil. If the issue is oppression, encountering the oppressors makes more sense than attacking the victims of oppression. Of course, this comes with its own set of limitations, but it at least doesn’t legally persecute an entire religious group or compromise personal freedoms.

Lasting systemic change can, however, only be brought about through education and psychology. Tariq Ramadan, a re23 Ibid.

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nowned Swiss Muslim Islamic scholar, asserts in an interview that “Muslims need to reform their minds, their interpretations of Islam.”24 In his book Islam: The Essentials, Ramadan argues that this change can be brought about if Muslims today push Islam “in the direction of human rights and equality.”25 Similarly, ideals of gender equality and inclusivity should be promoted in schools as human values, not Western values.

Religion has, for a long time, been an identifier of who people are. It started as a way to organize society, to organize people around shared morals, to prevent barbarism. In our secular world, however, we have the law to keep society organized, a legal instead of religious police. Because faith is so personal today, it becomes necessary to determine the degree to which the law can intervene in private practices for “societal benefit” before it becomes a violation of personal freedom.

a

24 Shariatmadari, David. "Tariq Ramadan: 'Muslims need to reform their minds'" The Guardian. Guardian News and Media, 28 Feb. 2017. Web. 11 June 2017.

25 Ramadan, Tariq, and Fred A. Reed. Islam: the essentials.

UK: Pelican, an imprint of Penguin , 2017. Print.

Let's Grab Chai!

The Markaz: A Success Story of Engagement and Community Jana Kholy B.S. Biology, B.A. International Relations ’20, Stanford University

The day I first walked into the Markaz was a pleasantly groggy one; it was at the crack of dawn shortly after awakening to a startling rollout.1 The endless variety of people who paraded through the vibrant yet soothing rooms of the Markaz never ceased to amaze me. Meeting people who are passionate about Islam and the Muslim World—from Africa across the Middle East all the way to South Asia—was one of my most unforgettable freshman-year experiences. Chatting over chai on the snug orange couches that morning stirred fond memories of lounging on the balcony in Cairo with my family, as the oddly comforting noise of car horns reverberated below.

The Markaz became one of my regular hangout spots for studying, meeting or just relaxing. Later in the year, the air was saturated with spirit as a vibrant tabla2 rhythm pounded through the Gray Room at the lively Arabian Nights event. There, I learned some new dabke3 footwork and joined hands with my friends as we laughed and fumbled to get the steps right with brows furrowed in concentration. Through events sponsored by the Markaz and its affiliated voluntary 1 Rollout is a Stanford tradition where student groups welcome new members by involuntarily taking them from their rooms at dawn.

2 Tabla is a Middle Eastern percussion instrument.

3 Dabke is an Arab folk dance native to the Levant countries.

student organizations, I’ve built genuine friendships with people who made Stanford feel like home away from home.

During more somber times, my hands joined with others at the Markaz again.

When the presidential elections jolted our community into a state of shock, I was devastated. The anguish that tainted my outlook on every news article I read changed me from someone who loved politics and current events to someone who couldn’t bear going to a news homepage. As the post-election storm was brewing outside, inside the Nitery building, the Markaz embraced my aching community. The open, welcoming space and sense of togetherness motivated me to voice my frustration. Hearing other outlooks and collectively exploring avenues for comfort infused me with a sense of hope and healing.

At its core, the purpose of the Markaz is simple: bringing people together and providing them with resources. Yet, the culture it fosters accommodates all facets of American Muslim identities.

It gives me and students across campus opportunities to practice camaraderie, resilience and growth.

As part of its staff, not only does the Markaz help me flourish professionally, the stanford journal on muslim affairs

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but also it pushes me along with the rest of the team to consider compelling but challenging questions: How do we make students feel comfortable here? How can we best provide opportunities to engage outside the classroom with the cultures, faiths and peoples of such a vast region?

Through brainstorming and trial and error, we are inspired every day to pave new paths to reach out to students and bring them together. With this outlook, the Markaz remains a place of free inquiry, intellectualism and criticism that students can continue to enjoy for years to come.

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A P E O P L E ’ S P U B L I C AT I O N

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