By Louiza Chekhar

“It sounds to me like all we need to do is just… be normal?”

“That’s exactly it! It’s all about being normal.”

This was the exchange between a shaykh (religious scholar) and an attendee at a course in London last year. He and a fellow teacher had just spoken about how our community needs to become better at listening to, understanding and accepting others, and just how far a little compassion can go – a hug from a stranger was instrumental in the shaykh’s own journey to Islam. My fellow attendee had listened to these eloquent speeches and summed them up in two simple words: ‘Be normal.’

In fact, I have heard this lesson given several times, each in its own way. Imam Suhaib Webb covered it a couple of years ago in a lecture entitled ‘Be Human’. One of my own teachers in London gave a class on nasiha (advice) last year, telling us how it was part of the sunnah (tradition) of the Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) to know and understand people and their situations. This is why there are so many ahadith (prophetic narrations) on how to be ‘the best’ – “The best of you is slow to get angry and quick to cool down,” ((Tirmidhi)) “The best of you are those who are best to their families,” ((Tirmidhi)) “The best of you are those who feed others” ((Abu Ya’la)) … The list goes on. The Prophet ﷺ knew to whom he was speaking in each instance and what they needed to hear, and he gave advice accordingly. He once forbade a young man from kissing his wife while fasting, but gave permission to an old man to do the same, as he was less likely to become carried away ((Ahmad)) – he understood that different circumstances call for different measures.

These seem like really obvious points: that Islam, like the world, is not black and white; that apart from a few key, unanimously agreed-upon tenets of faith and practice, there are shades of grey in most areas; that the best way to relate to people and help them is to know them, listen to them, understand and care for them. Yet the same lessons keep being repeated for a reason – that people continue to act like the brother Imam Suhaib describes in his lecture, telling a newly-converted sister, about whom he knew absolutely nothing, that “her dress is cursed by Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He).”

But why are some Muslims like this? Shaykh Hamza Yusuf once observed that many young extremist Muslims are trained in the sciences, in which questions have clearly definable right or wrong answers, rather than the arts or humanities, where ambiguities, differing points of view and multiple interpretations are deeply explored. In my experience, it is not just about academic studies, but cultural experience too. Despite living in the UK, some Muslims I know have grown up cocooned within their own micro-culture; they socialised only with others of the same ethnic and cultural background both inside and outside school, and were exposed only to the Islamic practices and teachings common in their parents’ homelands. They are some of the loveliest and most sincere people I know masha’Allah (as Allah has willed), but they are often shocked and uncertain about the way my family (mixed-race, with one convert parent) does things. Even though we are all living within the boundaries of Islam and what is halal (permissible), they find it difficult to accept practices outside of their own madhhab (school of jurisprudence), culture, or family’s way of doing things.

Hearing lectures, attending classes and studying the seerah (biography) of the Prophet ﷺ are all great ways to understand the necessity of ‘being human’ from an Islamic perspective – but these qualities of being open-minded, accepting and understanding should also be developed naturally, as part of our personalities and characters:

1. Study arts and humanities: If you want to study History, Literature or Sociology, go for it. These subjects teach us to see the same events, behaviours or writings from various perspectives, exploring the multiple ways they can be interpreted and the impact they have on different people. Parents: please don’t push your children into Medicine or Engineering if it is not their forte; we need more Muslims in the arts!
2. Make friends with a variety of people: Don’t stick to those from your own background – don’t even just stick to Muslims. The more we get to know different people, the more we realise just how beautifully diverse yet equally valuable Allah (swt) has made the world, accepting differences without shock or distrust: “And of His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth and the diversity of your languages and your colours.” (Qur’an, 30:22)
3. If you can’t do 1 or 2, read fiction: Some people are natural scientists, which is just as well, or we would not have any doctors or engineers! Equally, we are not all fortunate enough to live in culturally diverse areas where we can make friends of various backgrounds – but one thing we can all do is go to the local library and pick up a novel. As a child, I read books for hours on end, getting lost in countless fictional worlds. I saw inside the hearts of characters unlike anyone I knew in real life, learning to put myself in their shoes and view situations and experiences through different eyes. I travelled in my mind to far-away countries in which I have still never set foot, and grew to know and love these fictional people and places. I understood, accepted and appreciated them in all their diversity, cultivating a much broader worldview than my upbringing in suburban London alone could have given me.

Relating to others on a human level is crucial: in that class on advice, my teacher told us of a scholar who once refused to give him and a group of students nasiha even when they asked him to. He protested that because he did not know them and their situation or needs, he could not be sure to give advice that would cause more good than harm. I pray that we are all able to ‘be normal’, understand and accept one another, and live up to Allah’s (swt) vision for mankind: “O mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another,” (some translations add “not that you may despise one another”) (Qur’an, 49:13).

As the Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) held his hand, `Umar ibn Khattab radi Allahu `anhu (may Allah be pleased with him) told the Messenger of Allah ﷺ, “You are dearer to me than everything except my own self.” When the Prophet ﷺ replied that `Umar would not be a true believer until he loved the Messenger more than everything including himself, `Umar thought for a moment before confirming: “By Allah, you are dearer to me than my own self.”

This beautiful story, recorded in Bukhari, was taught to me to show how important it is that we love Allah’s Messenger ﷺ wholeheartedly – but our religious texts are rich and multi-faceted, and there is hardly a Qur’anic ayah (verse) or hadith (tradition of the Prophet ﷺ) which cannot teach us multiple lessons. It was a friend of mine, gently berating me for the pressure I put myself under to please others and conform to their expectations, who pointed out the flipside to this narration: that it is okay if the person you love most, after Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) and His Messenger ﷺ, is yourself.

Shakespeare said, “To thine own self be true” – and this had always struck me as selfish and self-centred. People always seemed to use this idea, of ‘being true to oneself,’ to defend the decisions they made which hurt the people around them. What makes any of us so special that we can justify disregarding the wishes of others and putting ourselves and our desires first?

The first mistake we make is thinking that ignoring our own dreams and plans for the sake of those around us will enable us to benefit or serve them better. The boy who studies medicine rather than the English literature he loves because his parents want him to be a doctor, the woman who always dreamed of being a teacher but agrees when her fiancé asks her to leave work and stay at home…they do it because he thinks it will make him a better son, and she wants to be a good wife. But look a couple of years into the future, and the boy is struggling with his studies, snapping irritably at his parents and spending as much time outside the house as possible; the woman is miserable and frustrated, feeling resentful towards her husband and acting cold and distant with him. Everyone else in their households can feel the tension and nobody is happy. These are not imaginary scenarios – I know these families.

The second mistake we make is thinking that Allah (swt) asked us to do this. As the hadith above shows, it is okay to love yourself. Of course, Allah (swt) does tell us to be good to our parents, spouses, children and those around us in society – but He also places limits on the extent to which others can make decisions about our lives. Parents cannot force their children to marry, women cannot be prevented from attending the mosque, and no-one can command others to sin.

This second mistake leads to a consequence even worse than the breakdown of family and friendships – the deterioration of our relationship with Allah (swt) Himself. When we believe that He has commanded us to suppress all our own wishes and plans in order to serve others, we not only end up resenting those people when we are unhappy – we resent Him too. We no longer thank Him gratefully, praise Him or pray to Him lovingly, because we believe He is the One who commanded us to make the choices which have left us miserable. Simply put, we cannot give generously and wholeheartedly, either to other people or to Allah (swt), when we are unfulfilled and frustrated, harbouring resentment and ill feeling towards them. Loving and being true to ourselves is not selfish; it is a means towards enabling us to love and be good towards others.

This is not to say that life with others should not involve compromise or some sacrifice for their sake – give and take is crucial, so long as it is not just about one or the other. Deep down, we know ourselves and our intentions. We know when we are being selfish and ungenerous, and need to fight our nafs (ego). We also know what the vitally important things to us are – the dreams and desires which we can’t ignore, even for those we love most, because suppressing them will kill something inside us.

And of course, this doesn’t mean giving in to unlawful desires – so any kleptomaniacs reading this, don’t go on a shoplifting spree because you‘re being ‘true to yourself’! – but if your personality traits and ambitions are halal (permissible), like studying literature or being a working wife, remember that Allah (swt) created you and He created those dreams. He made sure that we knew the stories of hundreds of diverse Sahaba (companions of the Prophet ﷺ) so that we would understand that there are many ways to be a good Muslim man or woman – from `A’isha the scholar and Khadijah the businesswoman to Fatima, the devoted homemaker; from Khalid ibn Walid the warrior and Hassan ibn Thabit the poet to `Uthman ibn `Affan the trader radi Allahu `anhum (may Allah be pleased with them all).

As Imam al-Ghazali said, “The key to knowing Allah is to know your own self.” It is up to us to choose our path and negotiate that with the people around us. Having that conversation might not be easy, and perhaps they will be disappointed at first. But those who really love you – and that includes Allah (swt) – will want you to be happy, and your happiness and contentment will enable you to give unreservedly and ungrudgingly to them in return, pleasing them too. That Shakespearean line I first thought of as ‘selfish’ turns out to be a vital part of becoming a truly generous and selfless believer.

Photo: Dave Shea

One day, a man from Medina approached the Prophet ﷺ (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) for help, and the Prophet ﷺ asked whether he had any possessions in his house. He asked the man to bring the cloth and bowl which he owned, then sold them to one of his companions for two dirhams. The Prophet ﷺ told the man to spend one dirham on food for his family, and use the other to buy an axe – then he instructed him to “go and gather firewood, I do not want to see you for a fortnight.” By gathering wood and selling it, the man made ten dirhams, which he used to buy food and clothes for his family – the Prophet ﷺ told him, “This is better for you than that begging should come as a spot on your face on the Day of Judgment.” ((Abu Dawud))

Every human being, rich or poor, has a right to the God-given dignity mentioned in the Qur’an: “We have certainly honored the children of Adam…” ((Qur’an 17:70)) According to some scholars, such as ash-Shawkani and al-Qaradawi, al-‘ird (dignity and honour) is so important that it forms one of the maqasid ash-shari’ah – the higher objectives of the Islamic Way which Islam’s teachings aim to protect.

It is especially important to be conscious of maintaining dignity when giving charity. The word ‘charity’ itself can have negative connotations, leaving recipients feeling helpless and ashamed at having to rely on others. Allah, subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He), gives us careful instruction not to belittle those we give to: “O you who believe, do not invalidate your charities with reminders or injury…” ((Qur’an 2:264)) In fact, we are told that we are not doing anyone a ‘favour’ by giving; it is a right that the poor have over the wealthy, a duty that we must fulfill – we are “those in whose wealth there is a known right for the petitioner and the deprived.” ((Qur’an 70:24-25))

We know instinctively that begging is not dignified – just imagine for a moment how humiliating and frustrating it would feel to depend on others day after day for handouts, knowing that you would support yourself if you had the choice? The Prophet ﷺ also spoke of this humiliation: “Begging is a cut that a person inflicts upon his face, except for asking a ruler, or under the stress of circumstances from which there is no escape.” ((Tirmidhi)) Instead, we are encouraged to work for our sustenance: he ﷺsaid, “It is better for one of you to take a rope and cut wood, carry it on your back and sell it, rather than to ask another person” ((Bukhari)) ; “No-one has ever eaten better food than what he eats from the work done by his hands.” ((Bukhari))  

So, if we are believers who “love for [our] brother/sister what we love for [ourselves]” ((Bukhari)) , we should hate to see our fellow human beings stripped of their dignity by poverty, and feel compelled to do all we can to help them escape their situation. Yet in the Muslim charitable sector today, we see countless appeals for handouts which relieve suffering for just a week or two – food parcels, water trucks, orphan sponsorship which must be paid month after month – ultimately keeping communities poor and dependent on charity.

The burden isn’t just on charities, but on Muslim givers too, the community which welcomes these appeals without questioning or critiquing the approach. MashaAllah (what God wills), the generosity of Muslims is unparalleled and commendable: a recent survey in the UK showed that British Muslims give more in charity than any other faith or non-faith community ((http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/faith/article3820522.ece)) . But just imagine how much good could come from our donations if they were put to better use; in the narration mentioned earlier, the Prophetﷺ managed to use two dirhams to lift an entire family out of poverty!

If we are to truly embody the Prophetic model of charity, a model which restored people’s divine right to honour and dignity when they fell on hard times, there are a few key steps we need to take:

1. Understand the essence of Islamic teachings on charity: When we hear reminders that “the best deeds are feeding the poor…” ((Bukhari)) or “whoever supports an orphan will be with the Prophet ﷺ in Paradise” ((Bukhari)) , we should understand that the underlying objective is not the form of charity (giving handouts), but rather the outcome: helping people meet their basic needs. Helping a widow start a small business to support her orphan child is just as praiseworthy as giving her monthly sponsorship, and when the Prophet ﷺ helped his companion earn a living, he was responsible for feeding that family just as much as if he had given them a meal. In fact, the ongoing nature of this kind of support makes it a sadaqah jariyah (continuing charity), a highly commended act.
2. Learn more about how the prophets gave charity: We all grew up with the same narrations about feeding the poor and giving generously, but I only heard the hadith (narrration) at the start of this article for the first time last year! The Qur’an also tells us how Prophet Yusuf, ‘alayhi as-salaam (peace be upon him), advised the Egyptian authorities to save a portion of the grain from good harvests for upcoming droughts ((Qur’an 12:46-48)) – we can learn lessons from this to help disaster-prone countries prepare for emergencies by storing food, rather than being left destitute and dependent on overseas aid when a crisis hits.
3. Focus on those we are helping, not just ourselves: Islam teaches us that charity not only benefits others, but also brings the giver great reward and purifies their wealth. However, by focusing only on what we gain, it is all too easy to donate and feel that we have ‘done our bit’, without thinking about the positive or negative effects on those who receive our charity. We should of course recognise and reflect on the spiritual benefits of giving, but it is also worth doing some research into the kind of work that different charities do to make an informed decision about where to donate. After all, we will be rewarded for giving sincerely and with good intentions anyway insha’Allah, we may as well reap the double reward of lifting someone out of poverty and the cycle of dependency!

We have a huge responsibility on our shoulders: ‘Uthman ibn ‘Affan, radi Allahu `anhu (may God be pleased with him), once said, “When the poor and needy come to you, know that your Lord has honoured you beyond measure.” I hope and pray that through reflection and informed charitable giving, we are all able to fulfill the “right for the needy and deprived” on all of us, and contribute to the restoration rather than degradation of their God-given dignity.