SOI LEK: MCA INTERFAITH PROBLEM DON’T BELIEVE IN ISLAM

Soi Lek: Hudud will cause 1.2 million to lose jobs

YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO HATE ANYBODY BASED ON VALID REASONS BUT DO NOT MISLEAD AND MISINFORM THE PEOPLE PUBLICLY. IF ANYBODY COULD COME OUT WITH DOCUMENTARY PROOF THAT HUDUD HAS PRESCRIPTION FOR ANTI-CORRUPTION PENALTIES, I CHALLENGE THEM TO PROVE IT HERE.Porn Star playing politics with Islam and Hudud.UMNO corruption is the problem not Hudud.The rakyat are not fools CSL.Your Hudud scare is going to backfire.
MCA president Chua Soi Lek claims that 1.2 million Malaysians will lose their jobs if PAS implements hudud in Malaysia – which he bases on an anonymous SMS he received today. please stop being a 2-face snaky fox. You just create fear that has no substance.On and on about hudud like an old broken record. Hasn’t Soi Lek and MCA realised that NOBODY CARES? I’m all for hudud if it means Umno/BN and MCA are eliminated from politics forever.
Where is our Ibrahim Ali, Hassan Ali and Nasar to defend hudud? I would like to see what they will say? So the 3 frogs…start croaking!
Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim
Salaam Alaikum wa Rahmatullah
It’s my anniversary, well, sort of. Eighteen years ago on Labor Day weekend, a Sunday, I said my Shahadah. I was standing in the front lobby of the Islamic Society of Greater Kansas City. I had just attended a class for the sisters, and everyone had left. The only ones still in the building were the Imaam, me, and some guy vacuuming. I was nervous. I had talked about saying my Shahadah with the ladies in the class; I planned to do it next week when when a certain significant friend could be there to witness, but they urged me to not delay, using the “what if you get hit by a bus?” argument. “It’s not between you and your friend; it’s between you and Allah.” Well, can’t argue with logic like that, so I mustered my courage and approached the Imaam, telling him I wanted to officially become Muslim. He stood with me out front by the bookcase so we would not be alone in any room; the vacuuming guy served as our noisy chaperone. I always enjoyed listening to this Imaam when he gave talks. His name was Adnan Bayazid and he was from Syria. His point of view was common sense Islam. He had a very easy personality but of course I was incredibly intimidated because he was an Imaam. He wasn’t a pushover, either. He quizzed me on some of the major points of Islam to assure himself that I was doing this with knowledge. I must have passed his test because after a few minutes of questions, he asked me to repeat the testimony of faith after him:
“Ash hadu an la ilaha il Allah, wa ash hadu anna Muhammadur Rasool Allah”
“I bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad (peace be upon him) is the Messenger of Allah”
He was clearly pleased. He congratulated me and then told me, with emphatic hand gestures, that anything I had done wrong, any sins or regrets I had, were gone, forgotten. This more than anything proved my undoing, and I began to cry due to the enormity of what I had done. He quickly excused himself before he, too, could get emotional, and I walked back into the multi-purpose room and leaned on a table and cried my eyes out. I was happy but emotionally worn out by the time I left for home.
Fast forward eighteen years and here I am, older, maybe wiser, maybe not, married for twelve years with five kids, living in suburbia and trying to help others have a bit of an easier time traveling the path I and so many other reverts have trod. I’ve been through the many phases of Islam. The “SuperConvertitis” phase, where I tried to out Islam everyone else. The burnout phase, where I just wanted to not think about Islam at all, the barely doing the minimum phase where only guilt and fear of Hellfire kept me going, and the phase I’m in now. It’s kind of a comfortable phase. I’m steadfast in my faith, I know where my weaknesses are and I don’t beat myself up for them anymore, and I try to maximize my strong points. I’m not a “haraam alaik-er” and I’m not so easygoing that I’ll simply smile and nod if I see a Muslim eating a ham sandwich and drinking a beer outside the masjid on Friday. I think I’ve found my niche as a Muslim and it is in writing and trying to be an uplifting presence – not a role model, I’m not good enough for that – for my brothers and sisters in Islam. I also make it a point to occasionally poke the hornet’s nest of problems in the Ummah so that people realize that we have to be more proactive in living and teaching Islam. I’m not Super Muslimah, and I’m okay with that.
I just read on one of my Facebook groups that one of our sisters has left Islam, and it got me to thinking. Here I am, Muslim for eighteen years, well settled in my faith, knowledgeable to a degree, not prone to histrionics. What could motivate a person, once guided, to abandon the faith? What could make me consider leaving Islam, even for a moment?
Wow, what a topic, eh? Why would I leave Islam? Well, part of me would say it’s too damn hard. Waking up at godawful in the morning, having to pray five – five! – times a day. Making wudu. Walking around with my body parts dripping wet is not comfortable. Having to pray every day at set times. I don’t even brush my teeth every day. Not being able to eat bacon. I know I can eat beef bacon or turkey bacon, but that’s at home. I have to be a damned private investigator and quiz every restaurant employee, read every label. Is there pork in this? Do you make the sauce with wine? This eternal food vigilance is tiring and I look at all the great places featured on Food TV and think, Can’t eat there, or there, or there, can’t even enter that country, dang place is full of pork, sheesh. I have to feel guilty or leave if I visit my mom and she has a bottle of beer or a glass of wine with dinner. I pack my kids’ lunch every day in case there’s some sneaky pork in the school menu. It is, frankly, a hassle. It would be easier just to ignore it.
And covering. Wearing abaya and hijab. I’ve been doing it almost since right after I became Muslim. Is it hard? No, not really. I’m no fashionista and most of the time I love the abaya because I can toss it on, throw on a scarf, and I’m dressed for any occasion, no muss, no fuss. No one has to see the sweats underneath. But boy, some days I feel like I just want to rip off the scarf and feel the wind in my hair, the sun baking down on top of my bare head. I want to wear jeans and a t-shirt when I’m playing with the kids in the yard. I want to not trip over the stairs every single time I bring up the groceries. I want to not have to rush to throw something on, fumbling with snaps and wraps, when the UPS guy drops off a package or someone who turns out to be a little kid knocks on my door. I want to go swimming in a normal one-piece suit instead of a burqini.
I want to go out of the house and look like everyone else. I want to be invisible at Wal-mart so that the mean-looking lady doesn’t give me the evil eye. I want to not have to worry about what’s going on in someone’s head when they see me. I’m not super self-conscious about it, but somewhere in the back of my mind is just the tiniest bit of awareness that some day, somewhere, some idiot might confront me or, worse, try to physically assault me, simply because of what I represent with my clothing. It’d be nice to not have to worry about that.
The Muslims. Sigh. Sometimes I want to disassociate myself from Islam just because there are stupid, idiot, ignorant, jackass people who call themselves Muslim who say and do the most idiotic things. Afghans growing opium, honor killings, acid attacks, subjugation of women, female genital mutilation, corrupt governments, bribery, cheating in business, hypocrisy. As Yusuf Islam, the former Cat Stevens, is famously quoted as saying “Thank God I learned about Islam before I met Muslims”. Frankly, sometimes it’s just embarrassing to be identified as Muslim. It’s like someone finding out you’re related to one of the Kardashians or a serial killer. It’s kinda hard to live down. I don’t like having to give the “all Muslims are not terrorists” speech all the time.
I think the hardest thing about being Muslim, at least for me, is being aware of being Muslim all the time. I have a highly refined guilt complex, so I am immediately aware if something I am doing is haraam, forbidden. I keep the radio on the news station. From time to time I’ll check out the local pop music station and listen to a few songs. Wow, they sound gooooood… and then I’ll immediately feel guilty. Why am I not listening to Qur’an or at least nasheeds? But don’t listen to too many nasheeds or that will be haraam too because you should be listening to Qur’an. Well, maybe I’ll listen to some classical music and that will be less haraam…. Oh, and TV. I watch the news and food shows and football. Should I be watching football? All those hunky guys in tight uniforms. Well, maybe if I only look at the offensive linemen, who are over 300 pounds and not really hunky at all. I’ll just listen and not focus on the screen. But here comes a beer commercial. Haraaaaaam!
Ugh, there I go again. Islam is so hard. Islam requires that we be conscious human beings, aware of our surroundings, aware of wasting food, aware of how we deal with the opposite sex, aware of how we behave in business, aware of what we expose our kids to, aware of our environment, aware of how the less fortunate are abused, aware of ourselves, aware of our duty to Allah, aware of the fact that life is short and there’s this big huge thing called Judgment Day. And sometimes it gets to be overwhelming and I feel like I’ll never measure up and I can’t do this and I’m failing and why the hell should I keep trying because I’m tired and I just want to be an unconscious not-thinking-about-the-afterlife-all-the-time normal person. And dammit I just want to go to Burger King and order a bacon cheeseburger and eat it and enjoy it.
So, yeah, I’ve wondered what it would be like to not be Muslim anymore.
So what stops me?
Belief.
“Ash hadu an la ilaha il Allah, wa ash hadu anna Muhammadur Rasool Allah.”
I believe in One God, without partners. I believe that Allah sent messengers and prophets to teach us what was in the Books He revealed. I believe in angels, and I believe in a Day of Judgment, and I believe in Allah’s Divine Decree. Logically, in my unromantic linear little German heart, I believe in Tauheed. I believe that we fragile, short-sighted human beings need rules and regulations to keep us from royally screwing up our lives. I see the proof of that all around me in society. I believe that Islam is true, that when I look at it honestly with the knowledge of my own frailties, that all the do’s and don’ts are really necessary. We like to think we are strong and moral and self-regulating, but we’re lying to ourselves. If we had no fear of Allah, most of us would be cheating on our spouses, smoking pot, drinking whiskey, cheating our bosses, or doing something else that is bad for us or for others, all the while smugly saying “I can do it because I am strong and I won’t let it get the better of me”. I believe in Islam.
I believe in Islam. I didn’t convert to Islam for a guy or because I thought the clothing made me look exotic, or to rebel against my family, or to justify my sense of being different from everyone else. I became Muslim because I had to. Once I realized that Islam was the truth, I couldn’t not become Muslim, even in the face of corrupt Muslim governments, idiotic Muslims abusing women, growing opium, misinterpreting their own scripture, and all that. Even if I fell down and fell short every day of my life. Even if I had the hardest time keeping concentration long enough to make wudu and get to the prayer rug. Even if I still tuned in Lady Gaga once or twice. Even if I watched a rated R movie. Even if, on a hot, humid, sultry day in mid-August I wanted to rip off my hijab and run through the sprinkler in shorts and a tank top.
Even if someone hurls insults at me. Even if someone tries to tear off my hijab. Even if someone abuses my kids. Even if my husband loses a job because of his beard. Even if my family hates me. Even if my non-Muslim friends leave me. Even if I have to leave my home country. Even if someone holds a knife to my throat and tells me to renounce my faith or they’ll kill me. Even if I were the only Muslim on the planet, or the only Muslim on the planet striving to live as a Muslim. Even if.
“Ash hadu an la ilaha il Allah, wa ash hadu anna Muhammadur Rasool Allah.”
I am a Muslim. I am a weak, frail, moody, anxious, hyperactive, attention-deficit-disorder, bad housecleaning, prayer-missing, ungrateful, overeating, underexercising, too-long-blog-post-writing Muslim. I will continue to fall down, I will continue to struggle, but I will never, never stop being Muslim. I am weak but Allah has guided me and how can I be so ungrateful as to turn my back on Him? Allah is One. Once I realized that, I never had a choice.
While most of the media’s attention is focused on Syria, the state of the euro or the US presidential elections, very little is being said about state sponsored ethnic cleansing in Myanmar or Burma. Perhaps it is because the unfortunate victims happen to be Muslims and there are no strategic gains to be garnered by allying with them.
Ten Burmese Muslims on their way to a spiritual place of worship last month were attacked by a large number of Rakhine Buddhists who butchered and killed them with knives. Five others escaped. One man from the village where the attack took place said a mob of ethnic Rakhines set upon the bus carrying the pilgrims and carried out the massacre.
“More than a hundred people beat and killed those people. The residents even torched the bus,” he said, adding that the police arrived but were unable to control the baying crowd. “There are not many people at the scene now, only dead bodies on the road. The senior town residents are trying to comfort the people,” the man added. The Rakhine Buddhists are also threatening Muslims from the other towns of Rakhine state with the same fate.
There was a lot of fanfare and noise by the West on the repressions by the military regime against its people. The pressure by Western governments intensified in the form of sanctions against the regime which resulted in the generals allowing a small amount of democracy to creep in.
This also brought notable Burmese activists working for democracy such as Aung San Suu Kyi to the front pages and television screens and calls for the continued democratization of the country. Amidst this fanfare of publicity, the plight of the minority Muslims somehow failed to attract any headlines or generate any sanctions.

A government statement following the massacre of the Muslims last month which was published in the New Light of Myanmar added more fuel to the burning embers when it warned against “anarchic and lawless” acts, but referred to the victims as “kalar” (blackie), a racial slur used for persons of Indian appearance.
Dozens of people marched in Yangon to protest growing anti-Muslim violence and accused the government of stoking the flames of sectarian tensions. Political leaders and civil society groups appealed for calm and called on the government to issue an apology.
“The newspapers should not stoke this conflict. Are they trying to suggest that one race is more violent than another?” said an MP from the Rakhine Nationalities Development Party. The state media has since issued a retraction for the use of racially offensive language in its official appeal for calm and urged readers to refer to the victims as “Islamic residents”.
In the past, the Nobel Prize winner and democratic icon Aung San Suu Kyi and her National League for Democracy have gone to great lengths to avoid discussing the country’s Muslim minority, especially the Rohingyas, for fear of alienating many of their supporters. But following the brutal slayings, which was one more chapter of targeted violence against the Muslim minority, she was compelled to speak out.
Finally breaking her silence, she joined the fray in the debate by calling for the perpetrators to be held to account in accordance with the rule of law. She added that “the majority of the people in a society should have sympathy for the minority.”
“Maybe some people would not like me saying this but I have to say what I must say regardless of whether they like it or not. When you are the majority in a society, then you are the strong party. If you are strong then you must be generous and sympathetic. I would like to see all people in Burma get along with each other regardless of their religion and ethnicity.”
This pattern of violence against the Muslim minority should be brought to light. The safety and security of all minorities in any society must be guaranteed.
World governments and international human rights organizations that were so focused on the democratization of the Burmese in the past must now focus their attention on saving one of the country’s minorities in the present.
in the New Testament, there is only one sin that gets the divine death penalty: hypocrisy. There is a reason. It’s the devil’s best tool against the Christian witness. And it’s what so disappoints me about the Republican approach to faith and politics. It’s why when we started working with Democrats on faith back in ’05, we had two prime directives: 1) The work had to be authentic and 2) it had to come from a place of religious humility, not arrogance. And it is why I’m not surprised by the recent revelation that out spoken defender of family values and hardcore “pro-life” Tennessee Congressman Scott DesJarlais was taped encouraging one of his four mistresses to abort his unborn child.
I’ll get back to DesJarlais in a bit, and I want to preface the rest of this piece by making clear that not all Republicans or members of the Christian Right are hypocrites. Most are good people trying their best to do what is right. But they continually lift up and support leaders like DesJarlais, and it’s brutalizing the Christian witness in this country. It’s not a coincidence that people who run campaigns based on judging others so often crash and burn.
There is a reason Jesus spent so much time warning against righteous judgment and our human inclination to focus on our neighbor’s wrongs to avoid having to look at our own. That inclination is what has allowed the pro-life political movement in this country to be co-opted by Republicans who only talk about the issue instead of actually protecting the unborn. It’s much easier to just say you are pro-life and that women shouldn’t have abortions than to actually do the harder and more complex work of reducing the number who do.
It’s much easier to be “pro-family,” which recently has pretty much meant fighting over gay-marriage, than to actually do the hard work in our communities (and our own families!) to keep marriages strong. Gays make up what, 2 percent or so of the population? And 50 percent of traditional marriages end in divorce. I’m not saying gay-marriage isn’t important, but it’s mind boggling that so much attention and money is focused on picking at that speck of an issue while we mostly ignore the 2×4 of a problem wedged in our own churches and communities.
You see, the “advantage” of focusing on judgment in faith and politics is that it allows you to compare yourself to other people on a standard you choose — and thereby feel rather righteous and good about yourself, both because you are better and because you are fighting for God. But that isn’t what Christ taught. The standard we’re judged by is His, not our neighbors’. Given how far short we fall of Christ’s standard, it’s laughable that we could ever think “superior” or “more righteous” are terms we could use to describe ourselves.
But the main reason Jesus was so against the Pharisaical approach to faith that defines the Republican leadership and religious right is that it is not how you build relationship or show people God’s love. Jesus was the standard and perfect, but he was also the one to spent his time with the worst sinners in his society. He knew you can’t show people God’s love when you’re yelling at them.
Last week’s Pew study showing that 20 percent of Americans no longer identify with a religious tradition got a lot of attention and buzz. Some panicked, and a lot of the headlines and coverage misread the data saying it was a rise of atheism. When you look at the actual results, what Pew found was not that attitudes and beliefs are changing much. It’s more a matter of labels. What’s changing is that people who are marginally religious are no longer identifying as Christian. An argument can be made that this is a good thing, that civil Christianity isn’t real. You shouldn’t be Christian because it’s comfortable. But it also points to a much more serious problem. Twenty years ago “Christian” was a label people on the fence wanted and saw as a good thing. Now it’s a label they don’t want to be associated with.
Which brings us back to Rep. DesJarlais. One of the main reasons people gave for saying they had no religious affiliation is that they think religion is too focused on worldly power and judgment, and it’s been co-opted by politics and ideology. That is what hypocrisy does. It’s why politicians running on extreme judgment and fear should be so feared. DesJarlais was one of those guys with a 100 percent pro-life record and 100 percent pro-family record who probably deserved another 10 points in extra credit on each category. And he got those ratings and endorsements from the Christian right after his first divorce and despite the fact that, as we now know, he had four mistresses and was pushing one to abort his child.
Not only does the right’s approach often result in hypocrisy and harm to the Christian witness, it blinds them to people’s struggle. DesJarlais didn’t push his mistress to have an abortion because he was a two-faced liar. I have no doubt he believes abortion is wrong. But he found himself in a situation where he had nothing but bad options and thought this was his only possible salvation. And he kept making worse and worse decisions because when you’re constantly dishing out judgment, it’s hard to ask for grace.
Sadly, DesJarlais’ probably went to a church and had friends who will start shunning him. What he, his family and his mistresses need right now are love and grace from his church. But he has also lost all claim to leadership over his fellow citizens. Re-electing him would send a horrible example to our children and to non-Christians about what we value. Thankfully, the alternative in this race, Eric Stewart, is a great guy and good Christian. Stewart isn’t perfect either, and he’ll be the first to tell you that. But by not looking down on his neighbors, he understands what they are going through and need. That’s what makes good leaders.
If you’re pro-life and think that label matters; if you are pro-family; you should help make sure Eric Stewart becomes the next Congressman from TN-04.

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