No Man-Istan

Dawn columnist Nadeem Paracha (“Smoker’s Corner”) is a brave man. Of all the out-of- the-closet critics of Pakistani society in the media, I find his writing to be the most accurate, honest, to-the-point, and humorous. Cowasjee is another exceptional critic, but he’s of an older generation, one that is more erudite – articulate and poetic – and perhaps better educated. Paracha considers himself a “moderate” Muslim, but I would say, for this place, he’s as liberal as you get. He’s also a socialist well-versed in political theory, and he’s not afraid to apply those critiques to Muslim and/or “Eastern” society as much as to Western capitalism. This article in particular backs up my latest blog post: www.dawn.com/wps/wcm/connect/dawn-content-library/dawn/the-newspaper/columnists/nadeem-f-paracha-loons-of-doom

And for more backup on my perception of the far right bias in Pakistani media (anti-India, anti-Semitic, xenophobic, pro-patriarchy, pro mullah-military hegemony) here is another Dawn piece from another great writer, Hajrah Mumtaz: www.dawn.com/wps/wcm/connect/dawn-content-library/dawn/the-newspaper/local/exploring-a-rightwing-media-159

But that’s not the gist of my latest entry. I said in previous posts that I would write more about my personal experience with Sufism in Pakistan, and I will do that now. At first I thought it would be petty and unwise to put such an expose online, but I’ve already done this in previous posts concerning other nefarious characters, so why not? Besides, I’ve taken care not to name names.

I guess one of the reasons I’m so disillusioned and disappointed is that I’ve long thought that Sufism is Pakistan’s, and by extension Islam’s, saving grace. Not in all forms, but in its essentials it speaks of a certain mystical purity, sometimes also found among the Shi’a, rarely seen in today’s highly politicized resurgent “Islamic renaissance.”

My Sufi teacher, let’s call her “Begum” (which roughly translates as “madam”) I visited on about five different occasions, not including our first meeting at the famous Karachi Sufi shrine Abdullah Shah Ghazi. Her estate, where I attended some of her weekly gatherings (after evening prayers) is rather large – for land-strapped inner Karachi, that is – and is nicely shaded with trees and plenty of green plants, around a spacious house.

She smiled a lot, and seemed content with her own life (which I suspect is what added to her reputation of being “spiritual,” needed for any charismatic teacher of that sort) but I didn’t sense that her beliefs were any different from orthodox Muslims. Like most Sufis, she complained a lot about Wahabbism and its effects on Islam, but not all critics of Salafi Islam are open-minded (indeed, some of these critics include radical militants). One thing she said to me that was perceptive was that I should spend more time with spiritual people, as others can weigh you down with too much negative thinking, they “hurt your heart” was how she put it. Although that statement can sound rather arrogant and elitist, it is true that we should choose our friends wisely. But as it turns out, her own thoughts didn’t impress me either. What’s true about what she said is that many people in Pakistan in my experience, both secularists and outwardly pious “religious” types, are oriented towards material values, more so, it seems, than even in America, which is supposed to be the emblem of shallow, superficial, decadent capitalism to the Muslim world.

When she spoke about politics, I felt, quite frankly disgusted. After Saddam Hussein was hanged, she remarked that “I hope they hang George Bush next.” OK, let’s face it, a lot of people all over the world, not just Muslims, have felt that way. Even I admit to having had such thoughts on occasion. But that’s not something I would care to say out loud if I were a “spiritual” teacher representing the “purist” form of Islam. Many times she went on about how the U.S. and Israel (big surprise!), or sometimes flat out saying Christians and Jews, are causing problems to every other country, especially Pakistan. I asked her – What about Darfur? She said, despite no evidence whatsoever, that Israel, not Arab countries, is supplying both the rebels and the government in Khartoum (a fundamentalist, anti-Israel, friends with Bin Laden regime, mind you) with weapons, and that “if someone sells you weapons, you can’t help but use them.” I thought Sufism taught that people should be responsible for their own lives and work on purifying themselves from the inside out? But when she talked about being “slaves to Allah” I got the idea that it was all about the outside-in for her.

She did, however, show some unorthodox opinion in her criticism of charity, a requirement in Islam, referring to it as just a “handout” and recited the Bible quote about “giving a man a fish.” I replied that it’s easier to learn how to fish if you’re not starving, and millions in this country are doing just that. (I still defend this position – look at what Muhammad Yusuf, a Nobel peace prize winning economist, and a Muslim, incidentally, did with Grameen Bank in Bangladesh, now the standard model of micro-loans for many philanthropic organizations. And I can testify in my experience with volunteering with Habitat with Humanity that there is a difference between a hand-up and a hand-out.). Thus, when she told me about the philanthropy she was involved in – running a school for poor children – I was reluctant to participate, as I came to the conclusion that it was a means of filling their heads with the same dismal dogma as the Madrassahs.

One girl I met at her gatherings said she was a journalist, so I told her that I recently started a blog and I asked her if she had written about the problems with the government and such. Begum immediately told us that it is wrong to write negative articles about the government or any political figures in Pakistan. Given her own statements, I found this hypocritical.

I found her general worldview to be as irrational as her political rhetoric. She told me that after doing the obligatory Islamic prayers, I must do extra prayers asking for special favors, and if I did it right, the angels sitting on my shoulders would fly up to heaven and take the prayers straight to Allah. I asked her, from the conventional Islamic view, what the purpose of Sufism is, as the standard practices are supposed to be both necessary and sufficient to lead to eternal bliss in the afterlife, and she said she was more interested in knowing God (Allah) in this life. But she didn’t espouse any special gnosis or metaphysics, as her views showed that she saw God as a completely outer being whom we should fear.

It wasn’t just her statements that disturbed me, but the literature she had me read. While she first gave me this nice, nonsectarian workbook (one endorsed by none other than Deepak Chopra) I was also given this large, imposing looking tome, written by someone who was as fundamentalist as any Wahhabi, about the “glorious religion of Islam.” Most of it was basically a litany of strict rules, and lists every type of person who will go to hell: all non-Muslims, and many Muslims for seemingly slight offenses, such as men not having their beards the correct length, or not using the full name of Allah – “Allah Subana Watala.”

What I saw there didn’t comfort me, either. During one session of reciting religious songs, I saw men twitching like they were overdosing on medication, and one man prostrating in front of her who started screaming at the top of his lungs with agony. Red-faced and slobbering, he alternated between weeping and what appeared to be a wild rage or frenzy. I was later told that he was being “purified,” but I sensed no joy, gentleness, or warmth about it – only fear, aggression, and at times seeming psychosis. It wasn’t very different from what I saw when I was invited to attend a Pentecostal mass – people swaying, yelling, “speaking in tongues.” I think many in the spiritual community would do well to carefully to distinguish between a transformational breakthrough and a personal breakdown!

And that’s when it hit me that this place was nothing more than a cult. That was confirmed when in another session I saw a woman prostrate in front of her, muttering praises about her, and kissing her feet. She allowed this, even though Islam, Sufism or not, doesn’t. The big smile on Begum’s face showed that she seemed to get off on this worship, and she seemed far from immune to the effects of ego that Sufism is supposed to transcend.

I discussed this with the girl journalist I met, and her responses confirmed my suspicions. The girl was not able to demonstrate any independent thought. When discussing the Muhammad cartoon row, for example, all she did was repeat the talking points of fundamentalists, justifying the riots and the carnage, blaming the Danish government for “not protecting Muslims” and refusing to blame the Egyptian clerics or the Saudi establishment for the role they played. She then admitted that she could not form her own opinions on such matters, and that she must consult with Begum on all matters relating to Islam, politics, or anything important. In other words, she acted like she was brainwashed.

This was just too much for me, so after the last gathering I requested to speak with her privately, and she asked me to come two hours early next time. I did just this, but when I arrived I was told by the guards that she would not talk to me and that I could only come at the scheduled time. That was my last attempt to ever see her again. She must have known I was on to her, and that I knew that she knew. It’s just as well, for whatever it was I could learn from her, good or bad, I did.