We have been here before: another killing of a Black man by a white police officer in the US. It is all too common. This time, however, something different, something else also happened. The social context is both racially familiar and racially unfamiliar. First, the racially familiar. Only a few weeks before George Floyd was killed, during the last week of February, a young Black man named Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed by two White civilians in Glynn County, Georgia, while he was out jogging, and within the same time frame, Breonna Taylor, a young Black woman in Louisville, Kentucky, was also shot and killed by police officers who entered the wrong address with a no-knock warrant. Although the killing of Arbery was recorded on video and the killing of Taylor went under the radar for some time, their stories are so racially familiar that the killing of Floyd seemed to almost simply add another ‘seen it before Black execution’ to an expanding list.
It has been just over two weeks since the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis Police, and the beginning of a wave of protests across the world. Whilst neither the first nor the last incidence of police brutality and murder against Black people, this event has acted as a spark in a global movement to demand changes to White supremacist structures and oppressions. An aspect of these protests, particularly in the UK and USA, has been the destruction and on some occasions dismantling of statues honoring the lives of slave merchants and historical White supremacists.
The loss of lives and the carnage caused by the COVID-19 pandemic – not to mention the scrambled response of global leaders to it – inspired me to revisit the above scene from V for Vendetta. Today, death tolls are exponentially rising against the backdrop of austerity cuts to public health infrastructures and, following China’s lead, global leaders have resorted to imposing national lockdowns and curfews to contain the pandemic. With a drastic dip in symptoms being reported in China, their government’s early success at halting the virus through a series of extreme lockdown measures, aided by surveillance technology, is being hailed as a model to be followed. Many countries have now initiated lockdown measures, including the UK, while the Indian government called for a day of national curfew and then a subsequent lockdown.
In 1827, while in command of a British squadron observing the ongoing war between Greek rebels and the Ottoman Caliph-sultan, Admiral Edward Codrington sailed past the entrance to Navarino Bay, caught sight of the Turkish fleet lying at anchor, and blasted it to the bottom of the bay. The absence of a state of war between Great Britain and the Ottoman Empire notwithstanding, Codrington was celebrated and promoted because beating up on Turks seemed to a lot of Brits like an intuitively good thing to do. Afterwards, since the overextended Ottomans did not respond militarily, the incident was officially declared “an untoward event.”
In popular Eurocentric parlance, the Caliphate is viewed as a relic of a bygone era, its re-establishment constituting a central objective – if not, the objective – of Muslim “fundamentalists” and militants. Yet its trans-“religious” deployment is also evident in culture; for example, from a cursory survey of Western science fiction literature, which reveals how Orientalist framings are negotiated and drawn upon on a regular basis in order to maintain the image of the Caliphate as an institution haunting the future of both the known and unknown universe. The science fiction genre is often portrayed as a landscape enabling readers (and viewers in the case of film and television) to escape the limits of the ‘real’ world into distant ‘other’ worlds imagined as informed by utopian ideals and technological advances – worlds liberated from the ‘actualities’ of everyday life.
In a 2008 article, I expressed the intuition that the conditions of post-colonialism make it impossible for modern Muslims to articulate credible political stances without accusations of either betrayal of their essential Muslimness, or of engaging in duplicitous interpretations of Islam inviting charges of dissimulation (taqiyya). The recent controversy surrounding the International Institute of Islamic Thought’s (“IIIT”) decision to cancel its annual Al-Fārūqī Memorial Lecture at the 2019 meeting of the American Academy of Religions serves to remind us of the high stakes facing Muslims when they attempt to act as public intellectuals on topics at the intersection of law, religion, and national security.
In the memory of martyred president Dr Mohamed Morsi
The defeat of the AK Party candidate against the secularist CHP candidate in the June 23, 2019, Istanbul mayoral election was celebrated as a promising victory of democracy against Islamist Erdoğan. This was the “beginning of the end” for Islamists just as before. Indeed, we have heard this declaration of death at least for three decades. When the Orientalists first declared the end of Islamism -in the form of post-, failure, decline or moderation-, it was the early 1990s. For instance, Olivier Roy’s “The Failure of Political Islam” was published in 1994 (in French in 1992) and post-Islamism of Bayat appeared in 1996….
In July 2019, 18-year old Kashmiri-born, award-winning Muslim actor Zaira Wasim wrote a detailed post on Facebook announcing her intention to withdraw from acting. The post began in a way that is familiar to a lot of people midway in their careers across the world – she talks about starting something five years ago (a career in the Hindi film industry), gradually realising that it is not for her and of the pressure on her to become someone else.
Published by: Pluto Journals
British Muslims, Cultural Freedom, Political Dissent, and the Counter-Extremism Industry: Some brief reflections on “Bradford in Our Own Words: Resisting Counter-Extremism Apparatus”
On a sweltering Sunday afternoon (30 June 2019), a hundred or so people, mostly young, were packed in together at the Speakers Corner Collective  on Ivygate in the centre of Bradford. They came to discuss the withdrawal from the Bradford Literature Festival 2019 by a number of writers, artists and speakers. This withdrawal was sparked by the news that a pre-festival project promoting the literacy and education of British Pakistani women had been funded by a Home Office counter-extremism fund, established in 2016, called Building a Stronger Britain Together (BSBT).