APRIL 16 ― Zakir Naik is a world-renowned Islamic scholar. Love him or hate him, you cannot deny that his name has travelled across continents and countries.
He’s also an extremely controversial figure. Known to many as an authority in comparative religion, while to some others, as a charlatan who holds no regard for people of other faith.
This Sunday, April 17, Zakir Naik was scheduled to have a talk at UTeM titled “Similarities between Hinduism and Islam.” However, the talk got cancelled after it raised uneasiness within the Hindu community. Sensitivities were touched and eventually, IGP Tan Sri Khalid Abu Bakar released a statement regarding its cancellation.
Immediately after, there was an uproar in the Malay Muslim community. People started talking about how this was an infringement of freedom of speech, and that Hindus were probably just afraid that their adherents would convert en masse during the talk.
People started talking as though Zakir Naik was denied entry into the country, like how he is barred from UK and Canada. They started talking as though all his talks were cancelled when that was just one out of the many other events he has here. The rest of his talks are carried out as per normal.
Zakir Naik released a statement about how he was upset that such a small matter was blown out of proportion to the extent that Malay Muslims were fighting amongst themselves. He said that some Muslims even had the audacity to call another Muslim “kafir” just because of different opinions.
However, amidst the hustle and bustle of the controversy, I cannot help but feel appalled; not by Zakir Naik, but by the hypocrisy of Malay Muslims. The Malay Muslim community of Malaysia has such jarring double standards, and it’s even more obvious now than ever.
The Malay Muslims who get upset when people talk bad about Islam or when Muslims present a version of Islam that is unfamiliar to them are the same Malay Muslims who shout “It’s freedom of speech!” when Muslims belittle other religions or when an Islamic scholar says something that is potentially inflammatory but is parallel to their beliefs.
But where were you when Dr Ulil Abshar Abdalla was denied entry into Malaysia in 2014 for supposedly being a deviant? Zakir Naik is notorious for his support of al-Qaeda and Osama Bin Laden while Ulil was denied entry to “defend Malaysia’s brand of Islam” despite wanting to speak against terrorism. What does this say about our brand of Islam then?
The Malay Muslims who say that freedom of religion is mutually exclusive from Islam, disallowing the propagation or profession of other faiths while discriminating against converts from Islam or apostates, are the same Malay Muslims who use that term to justify the propagation of Islam, to fight back cases of Islamophobia, to encourage adherents of other religions to join Islam and to defend converts into Islam who are attacked by their family or friends.
But where were you when Lina Joy wanted to get her religion changed legally? Where is your outrage regarding the Raif Badawi case? Did you try to defend Juli Jalaluddin when she was deported out of Malaysia?
The Malay Muslims who are against pluralism and expect religious minorities to respect the needs and wants of the Muslim majority are the same Malay Muslims who would be appalled at the news of abuse or killings of Muslim minorities in foreign countries, saying, “We should respect other religions! We have to learn to live in peace and harmony!”
But where were you when protests were held against the construction of a Hindu temple? Or when Molotov cocktails were thrown at a church? Where were you when a church was forced to take down their cross?
The Malay Muslims who rallied behind Zakir Naik’s statement against excommunications of other Muslims are the same Malay Muslims who so very easily label others “kafir” for unorthodox opinions.
But where were you when progressive Muslims get told to leave Islam because of their opinions? Where were you when organisations like Sisters In Islam are labelled “deviant” and accused of infidelity? Did you try to stop any acts of takfir (excommunication of another Muslim) when you see it happen? Or did you jump on the bandwagon because the thoughts of these unorthodox Muslims didn’t mirror yours?
Obviously, I know that not all Malay Muslims think like this. But a huge group of us do and it can be seen everywhere. These Malay Muslims that I am talking about only support certain values when it benefits them, or wherever it is convenient for them. They don’t apply these values across the spectrum and immediately take back these “privileges” when someone does not share the same thoughts and opinions as they do.
Their “freedom of speech” means “freedom of speech only for my group.” Their “freedom of religion” means “freedom to only practise Islam.” Their disagreement on takfir means “as long as you think like me, you’re still a Muslim.”
If you don’t agree with the limitation of Zakir Naik’s freedom of speech, you shouldn’t agree with the limitation of other Muslims’ freedom of speech. If you don’t agree with the belittling of Islam, you shouldn’t agree with the belittling of other religions. If you don’t agree with the excommunication of Zakir Naik, you should not agree with the excommunication of other Muslims.
The problem now is not with Zakir Naik, but with the hypocrisy of our Malay Muslims. Like what is written in the Qur’an, “Do not let the hatred of a people prevent you from being just.” Thinking back, have we really been just to the rest of Malaysians? I wonder.
It’s afternoon rush in Los Angeles, and Yuna is cruising through Mid-Wilshire in a black SUV with the windows rolled down. At a stoplight, the singer-songwriter, who left her native Malaysia for the land of movie stars and pricey green juices in 2011, cues up Snapchat and flips the camera to selfie mode. “Some guy on the street just shouted, ‘You’re beautiful!’ ” she says, letting out a pinched giggle. “That just made my entire day!”
Los Angeles looks good on Yuna, even if she doesn’t fit the Hollywood standard for pop star — hair always wrapped in a hijab (she’s a devout Muslim); a stylishly chaste wardrobe that covers her from turtleneck on down; a label home, Verve, known for legacy jazz and adult contemporary artists like Barry Manilow. The 29-year-old born Yunalis Zarai is a long plane ride from her homeland, where not so long ago she posted shy folk-pop songs to MySpace and, warmed by the feedback, hit the reset button to move to America and meet her mentor, Pharrell Williams. Today, she’s markedly different: Her third and best album, Chapters (May 20), is edgy alt-soul featuring Usher,Jhene Aiko and DJ Premier. The songs — including “Crush,” her first Billboard chart hit — are inspired by a wrecked relationship and powered by Yuna’s new confidence in herself and her opinions. “I was a timid girl before,” says Yuna hours earlier, perched at a table in a warehouse photo studio and dressed in all black. “A lot of people said, ‘Your problem is always holding back.’ I didn’t want to hold back anymore.”
“Yuna thinks differently than a lot of people — she has something to say, and she won’t compromise,” says Verve chairman David Foster, who has won 16 Grammys producing and writing for Whitney Houston, Celine Dion and others. “I’m much older than her, but I relate to her lyrics, and my stepdaughters, Gigi and Bella [Hadid], they’re crazy for her too. She’s speaking to a lot of generations.”
“Trump’s out there promoting hate,” says Yuna Ramona Rosales.
Yuna was raised in Alor Setar, Malaysia, by her legal-adviser father and chemistry-teacher mother. “It was a very conservative environment — we watched what we said.” Yuna spent her childhood focused on her education, set on becoming a lawyer. As a hobby, in between poring over textbooks, she taught herself guitar watching YouTube, writing songs in both Malay and English, inspired by her heroes Lauryn Hill (“she was life-changing for me”) and Feist. Music started taking priority a year before she graduated from university in 2009, when she self-released EPs to local acclaim and won second place in a national songwriting contest. At first, she felt like an outsider in the country’s music biz. Malaysia may be predominantly Muslim, but much like in America, “women singers are seen as sexy here — you have to let your hair out and be beautiful,” she says. “I struggled with that.” Instead, Yuna shrouded her image in mystery, letting her music speak for her. “I didn’t put up a proper photo of myself — it was cropped, up until my nose. People didn’t know what I looked like until my first show. They were shocked in the beginning, but they accepted me.”
Her music began attracting international fans online as well — including her now manager Ben Willis, who encouraged her to chase bigger dreams and start over in Los Angeles. Things began quickly: Fader Label, the influential magazine’s indie imprint, signed Yuna and introduced her to Williams, who produced much of her 2012 self-titled global debut (it peaked at No. 19 on the Heatseekers chart). In 2013, Yuna signed with Verve and released Nocturnal, which featured cutting-edge R&B producers like Om’Mas Keith (Frank Ocean).
Yuna and Usher on the set of the video for “Crush.” Courtesy of Verve Music Group 2016.
But despite the warm welcome, Yuna still sometimes deals with criticism and condescension when it comes to her image. “People say, ‘You should let your hair out; you shouldn’t be oppressed — you’re not in Malaysia anymore. You should show your curves and be proud of it.’ But I am proud — it’s my choice to cover up my body. I’m not oppressed — I’m free.”
Yuna loves Rihanna‘s music, praising several tracks from Anti, but doesn’t feel the need to dress (or undress) like her. “It’s easier to just be me and not try to look like her,” she says. “I have nothing against Miley Cyrus onstage being herself, but girls like Adele andAndra Day, we don’t get enough credit. We have talent; we don’t count on the extra stuff. We just want to play music.”
Chapters is a breakup album, inspired by the crumbling of a real-life relationship, although Yuna doesn’t offer many details in person. On the album, however, she puts it all out there, wondering aloud how he’s moving on when she’s stuck behind — particularly on “Used to Love You,” featuring Aiko, who pushed Yuna to come out of her shell. “She’s very blunt and direct — she expresses what other girls are feeling,” Yuna says of Aiko. “I see her as a big sister. When I go through stuff, I listen to her music. The last two years of my life, she played a huge part in it.”
Suddenly alone in Los Angeles, Yuna had to learn how to be “more tough” like Aiko, she says. “I used to be dependent on my ex. I didn’t know how to love myself. So I made a mental note: ‘In 2016, I’m going to be single.’ When this album comes out, I want to be in a good place.”
Yuna smiles when discussing her plans to push Chapters on tour in Europe and the States through May, and just bought a piano for her apartment to start work on a new album, which she says won’t wallow in the sadness of the past. “Crush,” featuring Usher, is her first song to crack U.S. radio, rising 22-18 on the April 30 Adult R&B chart. She says she feels at home in the Los Angeles soul scene, and America overall — even as she warily eyes the anti-immigrant, anti-Muslim fervor stoked by Donald Trump and others. “He’s out there promoting hate, violence,” she says. “It’s really weird that this is acceptable in a modern, advanced country.
“But I’m not too worried about it,” she adds. “I think you can soften people’s hearts, even if they have a lot of hate. Music can do that, if it’s beautiful and honest. If I can do that — soften just one person’s heart — I consider myself successful already.”
A member of one of Singapore’s oldest Arab-Muslim families has stepped forward to pay for a lawyer for the security officer accused of attacking three madrasah students.
The entrepreneur, who wants to be anonymous, is in his 40s and comes from the Aljunied family – descendants of Singapore’s first Arab settler Syed Omar Ali Aljunied, who built Singapore’s first mosque, and his family.
He told The Sunday Times that he is stumping up the money “purely out of love and compassion”.
Security officer Koh Weng Onn, 48, was charged earlier this month with kicking a 16-year-old girl in the thigh in what court papers called a “racially aggravated” act.
He was also accused of swinging a plastic bag containing a filled 1.5-litre water bottle at two 14-year-old girls in separate attacks, hitting them in the face.
The donor said he made his decision after hearing of Koh’s arrest and got in touch with lawyer Sunil Sudheesan, who will be representing Koh.
He has not met the accused’s family. He said he was inspired by his forefathers, who had built madra- sahs, mosques and churches in Singapore. “I’m sure my forefathers would have done the same (for Koh),” he said.
The father of two children aged 13 and 11 added: “I want to inspire (in) them that ignorance and anger can only be neutralised with acts of compassion and love and mercy.”
In the aftermath of the attacks, government and community leaders of all races have stressed that racially motivated acts of violence will not be condoned, urging communities to stand united against such acts.
The accused’s older brother, Mr Mohammad Johan Koh, said: “I was very surprised to hear this – that a kind person wanted to help.”
He did not expect to find out that the anonymous person was from the Arab-Muslim community.
The 49-year-old relief security guard added that his family hope to send their appreciation to the man, and to thank him in person.
“We know our financial condition; even if we decided to get a lawyer, we might not have been able to pay the legal fees,” he said.
Mr Sudheesan, of law firm Quahe Woo and Palmer, said it is quite rare for an anonymous benefactor to offer to pay for an accused’s full legal representation. He added: “It’s humbling that someone thought well enough of me to recommend me to the benefactor.”
Koh has been remanded for psychiatric observation. The case is scheduled to be mentioned tomorrow.
I find the discussion on ways to ensure a minority President a little unnecessary. Not because i believe in the infallibility of meritocracy, as many of those who do not understand the concept of majority privilege do (just look at the comments on ST’s articles on the Elected Presidency and you will know what i mean: in fact, if you’re a minority, you would be spooked), but for a different reason.
The reason why we even talk about having a minority President in the first place is presumably to ensure racial equality. But what is the point of having a minority President when so many racial issues remain unresolved, so many stereotypes exist, and so many people try to condone racism in all sorts of creative ways?
Bear in mind the Elected Presidency is a position that does not really wield too much influence, so having a minority there would not change too many things; in fact, the converse could very well happen. The image of a minority President may give the impression that all is well on the racial front, and people may rest on their laurels. Denial of discrimination and racism would perhaps then be more frequent.
There is not much sense speaking about how to ensure a minority President, when there are influential people who suggest fencing off foreign workers (without getting rebuked by a single parliamentarian, not even the opposition), when some still believe members of a particular race are lazy or stupid, when people are being slandered simply because of the God they worship, when others refuse to acknowledge genuine misgivings, and when people are judged by how they look rather than what they do.
