When
Cat Stevens (aka Yusuf Islam) got on a plane from
London, it did not touch ground at Dulles International
in Washington, DC, as anticipated. Instead the flight
was diverted to Maine's Bangor Airport, where the former
pop singer turned Muslim peace activist endured a
four-hour detention and a subsequent return to England
on grounds of being on a US government watch list.
Refusal to enter the United States also befell a
prominent Swiss Muslim scholar whose visa to teach at
the University of Notre Dame, Indiana, was revoked at
the last minute. Both scenarios are sordid examples of
the paranoia that has engulfed the US administration in
the name of national security. They alienate meaningful
cultural dialogue, reinforce stereotypes and deepen the
growing chasm between Islam and the West.
Perhaps it is somewhat surprising, then, that
one of America's most widely read and best-selling poets
has been a devout Muslim mystic born eight centuries ago
in Afghanistan - Maulana Jelaluddin Rumi. His verses in
praise of Allah were set to music by Madonna; Donna
Karan has used recitations of his poetry as background
to her fashion shows. A two-year-old Time magazine
article heralds the rise of Rumi's popularity with US
readers in the tenuous aftermath of September 11, 2001,
when Harper Collins published a pricey hardback titled
The Soul of Rumi, 400 pages of poetry translated
by Coleman Barks, to follow up its previous best-seller,
The Essential Rumi, published in 1995, with more
than 250,000 copies in print. In the currently
deteriorating relations between the United States and
Islamic constituents, that the words of an ancient
Muslim mystic having captured the hearts of so many
Americans might seem a total aberration or imply some
hidden logic of hope and renewal.
Historic
linkages The 13th-century Rumi was no stranger to
cultural animosity. He had witnessed the Mongol pillage
and plunder of Muslim dynasties of Central and West
Asia. Influenced by Islamic Sufism and the Christian
mysticism of St John of the Cross, he longed for a world
exuding immense affection for humankind. This alone
could turn the world into a paradise. His verses spread
the message of love - love for its own sake, not in
consideration of a good turn - that resonated with
Western/Christian teachings of selfless love. The
20th-century German poet Hans Meinke considered Rumi's
work "the only hope for the dark times we are living
in".
In his masterpiece "The Mathnawi" (a
Persian word for God), Rumi blends the sacred and the
profane, countering the notion that Islam is
antithetical to secular thought. He likens the world to
a tavern where people are drunk with desire and longing,
mingling until they realize their calling to return to a
God whose sweeping love supersedes all earthly love from
the most mundane to the deepest of passions. He poses a
question that we have all asked ourselves at point or
another: "Where did I come from, and what am I supposed
to be doing?" His answer: "I have no idea. My soul is
from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up
there."
The God-intoxicated philosophy of Rumi
urging a spiritual union with the divine showcases the
softer, prettier side of Islam known as Sufism that
Westerners find most appealing. But what the majority of
non-Muslims and even most Muslims don't realize is that
this all-abiding love for God rooted in the idea of
Tawhid or oneness, free from the institutionalized
mosque culture and the heady violence committed in the
name of the Holy Koran, is the real heart and soul of
Islam, not an esoteric branch of faith disguised as
mystical belief. It is also important to realize that an
Islam without barriers - be they national, cultural or
dogmatic - is not an Instamatic oasis of peace but a
daily striving of human dignity overriding power and
greed. Rumi reflects on the spiritual journey that
welcomes uncertainty and places the burden of
responsibility on the individual to make enlightened
choices.
This being human is a guest
house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a
depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness
comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain
them all! Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, who
violently sweep your house empty of it's
furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He
may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought the shame, the malice, meet them
at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be
grateful for whoever comes, because each has been
sent as a guide from beyond. (The Essential
Rumi, 109)
Feeding spiritual
hunger Public figures such as Oprah Winfrey and
Deepak Choprah have made it clear that Americans are in
search of getting in touch with their "inner self".
Evidence of this can be found in any New Age bookstore
across the United States promoting a wide variety of
books dealing with enrichments from yoga to Zen
Buddhism. Their common goal is to reach a state of
serenity in a life fraught with chaos and material
demands. Rumi is not the first Asian mystic imported to
American shores to feed a dearth of spiritual poverty.
Even though he speaks from a vessel grounded in Islamic
concepts, his words refuse to essentialize one faith
over another, but offer a 700-year-old poetic history of
human acceptance without limitations.
The enigma
of Rumi's attraction to US audiences, despite a daily
barrage of negative images and sound bites concerning
Muslims, can be explained by the priority of religion in
this society compared with its relative decline in
Europe. The recent debate in Congress to retain the "one
nation under God" clause in the Pledge of Allegiance
attests to this theory. Furthermore, as Americans are
among the most materially fortunate people in the world,
they can also afford the luxury of spiritual exploration
that developing nations, caught up in the daily stresses
of basic survival, are less equipped to indulge in.
Therefore, Rumi's message is more relevant in an America
grappling with individual sustenance and the collective
neurosis of fear and ignorance when it comes to the
"other".
The Sufi and the terrorist In
the polarized tensions among Islamic militants, global
terrorism, homeland security and national interests, the
teachings of Rumi are all the more relevant in
deflecting misunderstandings. It seems odd that the same
poet is read with voracious intensity across the US,
Afghanistan and Iran. One would think that the World
Trade Center attacks would also have obliterated
appreciation of Islamic literature and poetry in the US.
But the Rumi resurgence in spite of or perhaps because
of September 11, 2001, is a strong testament to
Americans' newfound receptivity to learn more about
Islam. Rumi is a necessary voice to bridge the gap
between the Islam that stands for pluralism and
tolerance and the belligerent abuse of religion branded
by extremist factions that gets the most media attention
to distort public perceptions.
Since many
Americans admire and relate to Rumi's philosophy, they
can also learn to distinguish between Rumi's message of
a peace-loving Islam that embraces humanity and the
misdirected Islam of bigotry and desperation that leads
to violence. It is easy to forget that tragedies have
been perpetrated throughout history by people of other
religions in the name of God. To categorize the entire
tapestry of Muslims as dangerous because of the actions
of militant elements (that are inexcusable and beyond
justification) is a shortsighted tactic of addressing
symptoms rather than the root causes of a particular
disease. It can only lead to an endless cycle of
reprisals and counter attacks. The onus on the American
people to influence their allegedly representative
government to channel the Sufi's passion for tolerance
and understanding over the terrorist mentality of
self-righteous indignation has never been greater.
Americanizing Rumi It is arguable that
Rumi's popularity in the US has been stripped of its
linguistic and religious integrity and Americanized to
accommodate a spiritual Starbucks of mass consumption.
But an American Rumi who speaks to the hearts and minds
of hundreds of thousands of people and builds bridges of
understanding between Islam and the West is, after all,
better than defunct national media incapable of
projecting a balanced perspective of the Muslim world
and certainly more effective than the official rhetoric
of good vs evil, the evil being undoubtedly the
"Islamist threat" that kept Yusuf Islam off US shores. A
lover of irony, Rumi would have groaned knowingly at
such an absurdity. He certainly would have appreciated
the confluence of spiritual hunger and terrorist alerts
that keeps his pages turning in America.
Maliha Masood is a graduate of the
Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts
University. She is the author of an upcoming travelogue
on the Middle East to be published by Cune Press in 2005
and the co-producer of a documentary film on
American-Muslim women. She currently resides in
Seattle.
(Copyright 2004 Asia Times Online
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