A Western Muslim's Guide to Hijrah

Part II: Reality Checks for Would-Be Muhajirun

 

If you don’t like bleak facts when it comes to anything connected to your diyn, don’t read this guide to hijrah. If you don’t like ambivalence, don’t read. If you’re floating on a cloud of idealism, don’t read. If you’re stuck in the swamps of cynicism, don’t read.

But if you agree about grey, then come along. If your head is level, then read. If you’re thinking about leaving the US, Canada, England, Australia, New Zealand, Ireland, Scotland, or whatever Western country where you were born and grew up for “the Muslim lands,” to make hijrah, then read this. If you’re thinking of doing this and you have children, then read.

There seem to be three views on hijrah and "mijrah" for Western Muslims.  (Mijrah being my term for returning to the West or staying put in the West.)

One is that the Muslim World is very perfect, it’s the only place where you can gain authentic knowledge, and we’d all best just pack up right now and move to Dar al Islam before our children get mind-and-soul snatched by the kufaar and our women are corrupted by the allure of the lustful, beer drinking Western males and celebrity poker tournaments.

Second is that the Muslim World is beyond hope and redemption, that it’s a totally corrupt den of oppression, hypocrisy, and veiled kufr, so we should just stay here where we at least have Wal-Mart and ESPN.

Third is that neither the Muslim World nor the West are perfect, and that there are both dunyawi and diyni advantages to living in either.

I can’t tell you about the dunyawi stuff. Your dunya’s different than mine is different than hers. What you consider “got it made” is another person’s “still struggling.” Rizq is written; can’t make any more come to you than was due, whether you’re lounging in Los Angeles or strolling through Sana’a. So some people aren’t going to be happy unless they’re in a villa, while others are content in a cement home with cement floors and thin mattresses on the floor. I know peeps who have lived like that, and they were content with it.

 

Making Hijrah Will Save Your Soul

People who talk about making hijrah talk a lot about how you have to do it for your diyn and the diyn of your kids. Save yourself from the kuffar and all that jazz. Get the adhan 5 times a day! Qur’an in the schools! Ladies in hijabs and niqabs! No pork! Whoo-hoo!

Is it really like that? I used to know some people who would get very upset with you if you said there was corruption in the Muslim world, or that not everyone in X country was totally taqwafied. They did not want to know about Muslims from the US or other Western countries being harassed, arrested, barred from working, or kicked out of Muslim countries, especially Saudi Arabia.

And I think they did not want other Muslims to know about these things. I have known Muslims who made hijrah to the Muslim world, including some very underdeveloped areas, and suffered for it. A friend of a friend of mine died doing hijrah and left three children without a mother. This is not a joke. When people write or call their friends back in the US or wherever and say, “This is where the real Islam is, and get away from the kufar and it’s so wonderful here” without telling them the often considerable downsides, they do a great amount of disservice to other human beings.

The truth is that living in a Muslim country can be damaging to your heart and your diyn. Some people say, “Well, only if you were blinded by naivte and idealism,” but even if you had your eyes narrowed in skepticism, you can be blindsided. Think of it this way: if living in a Muslim country meant that your ‘iman was constantly nurtured and strengthened, you wouldn’t have any apostates, atheists, or non-practicing Muslims in Muslim countries. If living in a Muslim country meant living in an place where taqwa permeated the air, the Muslim world wouldn’t be in the situation it’s in. If living in a Muslim country meant that the Shari’ah was always in force because of the hearts of the people, then you wouldn’t see movies, tv shows, music, dancing, and all the rest of it coming from “the pure Islamic lands.”

I’ve known my share of people who went overseas for various reasons: for education, for work, for family, and for faith. On the surface, I can say that many of them remained the same, and that others became even more devout. (I say on the surface, b/c I can’t read the heart of someone now, can I?)

But I’ve known other people who totally slacked off after living overseas. You might pick up and move to the other side of the world, but so do your issues. I met this couple who are always “diyn this, Muslims that,” but their family is totally screwed up and they are in danger of losing their children. Why? Because they think that just being in a Muslim country is enough to insulate their kids from fitnah. Hijrah horror stories abound among expats in social settings and on e-mail groups and forums. This one brought along his addiction to p0rn; that one still has hostility towards the idea of any authority. He still beats his wife, she still spends his money down to the last dime.

Another problem for some people might be the pressure to conform. Individualism, something we’re so proud of in the West is not that highly prized over here. The constant disapproval, which may come from other Westerners as easily as the locals, can crush you. How is that beneficial for your diyn? It’s not, really, especially when the pressure is on you in the area of your diyn. It’s the same sort of pressure you get when you’re a Traditional Muslim in a Salafi community here (or a whatever in a wherever). It can be suffocating. For me, this is the hardest thing to grapple with. Despite the idea that “Traditional Muslims" are all a bunch of SHUKR wearing conformists, I’m pretty used to doing my own thing, saying my own thing, wearing my own thing. Yes, within boundaries — those laid out by Shari’ah. In Jordan, however, I am sandwiched between two communities: the neighborhood I live in (largely religious Western expats) and the family and larger society in which I move around. The neighborhood is not as hard on one as it initially seem. It is difficult to adjust to. It takes a while to get to know people. Enthusiasm and encouragement can seem like disapproval and pressure.

In addition, what is either expected or acceptable in our little ‘hood is strange and discomfiting within the family/society. Wearing my knee-length khimars is just fine around here. Wearing it around the family invites lots of comments about “Who’s getting all religious on us now” and so on. For a long time, my propensity for black clothing (which has less to do with where I live than it does with gothitude, dirt, and New Yorkitude) really bothered some of them. As an American, I’m given a little latitude for weirdness. Don’t you know, that’s just how we are. A little strange. Over the years, I’ve come to adopt more of an “I don’t care” attitude about these things. As in, “I don’t care if you think I’m weird for reading books,” and “I don’t care if you think it’s weird that I take out my misbaha while the soap operas are on.” It’s not always easy though.

But it can still be a problem, especially when it comes to diyn disagreements. When you’re being pressured to conform, or to give up your individuality in an area that is not contrary to Shari’ah (after all, if tattoos were how you showed your individuality, that’s another issue entirely), it can feel like you’re being called upon to dampen the you who made this decision to embrace Islam (no matter what religion you were born to), or the you who made this decision to pursue diyn studies or move to the Muslim lands or whatever.

Disillusionment, I believe, will come swiftly and harshly for those who get off the plane wearing rose colored glasses. There goes the adhan, 5 times a day! And there, in our neighborhood of hundreds of adult men, go 50 — at most — to the masjid to pray. Every time, every day. Oh, the hijab is standard here.  And see how many women don’t wear it. See how many people hate it. See how so many of the women are actually “muhajababes.” See how men young and old harass women in the streets, even niqabis. See petty theft and cheating as commonplace as it was in any American city. Honor and chastity are still cherished values — if sometimes a little too much. Yet see that teenage boys troll outside the girl’s high school. See kids date. See a car on your dark, quiet street moving back and forth in the night. Don’t turn on the TV and watch one of the 68 music video channels or 78 movie channels. Why, darling, these are the same images of men and women we came here to avoid. And oh … is that a liquor store?

Finally, for some people, dunya may be their way of compensating for homesickness. You follow the schedules on those 5 or 6 English language TV channels like your life depends on it. You become an expert in torrents and watching stuff on YouTube. You buy more bootleg DVDs than you ever rented in a five years at home.  Panem et circenses is no longer silly excess; it represents home. I think any Westerner who has lived in the Muslim countries has had some fleeting familiarity with the culture snobs. They might be non-Muslim or they might be Muslim, but they’re all about hating on the native culture and trying to maintain identity by importing and downloading as much of America or England or wherever as they can.

 

Staying Home is the Way of the Level-Headed

 

What about mijrah? Staying in or returning to America because the Muslim world is just so hopeless? Don’t fool yourself into thinking that this is all benefit and gain either. You don’t necessarily have your diyn in one hand and your cheap but high quality material goods in the other. Just because it’s where you grew up and it’s where you’re at home doesn’t mean it’s good for your diyn.

“Simple living” has become a corporate slogan. “Real Simple” magazine rates cruises, for crying out loud. But when you make mijrah, especially if you’re returning from a Muslim land, the sheer number of material goods that are available to you can be overwhelming. The first time I returned from Jordan, I stood in the supermarket for quite some time just staring at the offerings. I was overwhelmed by the choices available, particularly in the salad dressing and pasta sauce offerings. I went to a discount store to replace things I’d left behind and I literally had to sit down; K-Mart overwhelmed me. There was so much… dunya. And it was high quality and cheap, compared to what was available to me in Jordan.

We were sitting with one of the teachers, and she told us that love of the dunya has meant the decline of the Ummah. Whenever we have failed, it was because of love of the dunya. When you return home, you can drown in your desire to have some of the dunya that was previously unavailable to you. Processed food stuff. Plastic containers whose lids actually stay snapped on. Cheap, but high quality shoes. Good pharmaceuticals. Clean water, whenever you want it.

Finding a balance, which is what our diyn is about, can be difficult whether you stay in the West or make hijrah to the Muslim lands. You may think that living in the West is unbearable, only to find yourself lose everything — your taqwa, your ‘iman, your sense of self — in the Muslim lands. Or you may stay in the West, having convinced yourself that the Muslim world is thoroughly corrupt and weak, only to find your children dabbling in Wicca, smoking pot, and being next year’s teenage pregnancy, despite your best efforts.

 

Actions, Intentions: Check Your Intention Before You Take Action

Allah subhannahu wa ta’ala gave us a tool to guide us when making these decisions. It’s called istikhara. Many Muslims don’t seem to take it seriously, or say that they’re not sure “how you know” when you’ve received an answer. They wait for some mystical dream of a big billboard that will tell them what to do. If you’re thinking of packing up your entire family and moving thousands of miles away, you are at a minimum obliged to learn about istikhara and take it seriously. If you’re thinking of staying in the West for ever, you should make istikhara too.

You need to make sure that your intention is about pleasing Allah, not "being in a land where the ladies where hijab," or "staying home where I'm comfortable and can shop at Wal-Mart."  If you're not thinking about Allah, you're plain not thinking. 

The truth is that neither solution is the solution for all Western (or Eastern) Muslims. Some people need to go to “the Muslim lands” in order to preserve their diyn and the diyn of their children. Just because others do not, it doesn’t make them weak or bad parents who are unable to shield their children. Similarly, it is possible to raise good, strong Muslim children, and remain a God-fearing Muslim yourself, while living in the West. Such Muslims are not low on ‘iman or weak in the diyn. It is the Muslims who remain strong in the West who are able to give da’wah to those who know nothing about Islam but images of hate. In a way, it can also be those Muslims who go to the Muslim lands who are agents of da’wah. The world is big enough, and the diyn is big enough, for both trains of thought, and for both types of Muslims.

Next: Money Matters and Legal Concerns

 

 

© 2007 S. Umm Zaid, ModernMuslima.com