Dr Mahfooz Jawed Nadvi
When I first came to the UK in the early 1990s as a student, I often went to the Islamic Foundation
(IF) in Leicester. I needed to access some resources on Islamic economics and finance, which were
only available in their library. My very first visit in late 1991 is still a clear memory for me. At that
time, the Young Muslims (YM) were having what seemed to be their annual meeting in the IF
campus, which lasted three days.
Coming from a family deeply involved with Jamaat-e-Islami (JI) in India, and as a member of the
Students Islamic Organisation (SIO), the youth wing of JI, I found myself astonished, yet pleasantly so,
by the sheer number of young individuals gathered for the Islamic movement. They were energetic,
had a sparkle in their eyes, and were full of ambition and determination to make a positive difference
in the world. They were also remarkably polite, humble and always eager to help. It was more than I
could ever have wished for!
I had already made friends in the YM group, including Br Zahoor and Br Junaid, back in Glasgow
where I was studying. This gave me the opportunity to engage in meaningful conversations with
several attendees and discreetly participate in some conference sessions. However, what really stood
out to me was Dr Muneer's Presidential speech. While attempting to read a book in my room, I found
my attention diverted as Dr Muneer began his speech, broadcasted through speakers installed in the
hostel, for those unable to be present in the auditorium. Despite my intentions to continue reading, I
found myself irresistibly drawn to his words. Dr Muneer delved into the topic of ‘Rise and Fall of
Nations,’ capturing my full attention with his insightful discourse. Before arriving in the UK, I was
vaguely aware that the UK Islamic Mission (UKIM) had made significant contributions to youth
development, but I had not fully appreciated the depth of maturity exhibited by these young
individuals. Dr Muneer's delivery resonated as though he was channelling Maududi himself,
imparting wisdom to the JI members in the era of united India, before the 1947 partition.
At breakfast, in the morning, I intentionally sat with Dr Muneer and initiated an informal chat with
him. As our conversation unfolded, I enquired about Dr Muneer's original hometown in Pakistan. He
replied, “Brother, I don’t like that question. I was born and raised here; I'm from the UK and nowhere
else.” Being relatively unfamiliar with the country's nuances, I lacked the insight to fully decode his
sentiment. I accepted his words simply as they were, without attributing them to any sense of
inferiority.
In subsequent times, I encountered many other YM leaders, including Ahtsham Ali, Mahmud al
Rashid and Inayat Bunglawala, among others, in Glasgow and various other locations. Listening to
their speeches on numerous occasions and reading their articles only solidified my initial impression
of YM. Regardless of whom I met from YM, and there were many, I was consistently impressed and
found myself wishing I could replicate many more like them. This organisation succeeded in
mobilising Muslim youth from Glasgow to Plymouth, rescuing them from the streets, imbuing them
with a purpose in life, and engaging them in constructive activities. The seniors of UKIM, the parent
organisation of YM, were immensely proud of YM’s achievements and were confident that the future
of the Islamic movement in the UK was secure.
Ah, it seemed almost too good to be true!
The majority of YM members were the children of Pakistani parents, with some from Bangladeshi
families and a few from Indian families. Although UKIM branches always warmly welcomed YM and facilitated their events and programmes in their centres, for some reasons there was a trust deficit
on YM's side; YM members were not very fond of UKIM. This situation led YM members to become
closer to organisations inspired by the Muslim Brotherhood. Moreover, the working language of
UKIM was Urdu, which did not appeal much to YM members, and over time, this issue only served to
widen the gap.
The Islamic Society of Britain (ISB) was established in 1990 with the aim of creating a centralised
organisation to represent the Islamic movement in the UK. Initially, it remained somewhat inactive,
but soon the elders of UKIM, along with leaders from similar Islamic movements originating from
Bangladesh and the Middle Eastern countries, recognised that their focus was too heavily on issues
related to their countries of origin. Moreover, these organisations mainly attracted individuals from
the specific countries they originated from. The UK needed an organisation primarily for British-born
children; hence, the ISB was reactivated. YM members, along with youth from similar Bangladeshi
and other organisations, were encouraged to join the ISB. It was anticipated that over time, UKIM
and similar organisations would naturally phase out.
Individuals and groups from various countries in the Middle East, all inspired by Brotherhood
ideology, had made their way into different UK cities. However, there wasn't a single national
organisation that could truly represent the Islamic movement with roots in the Middle East. That's
why the ISB seemed like a good fit for these people at first. However, there's truth in the saying, "You
can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear." The ISB turned into a mix of people from different
backgrounds and cultures, united only by their ideology but different in almost every other way. This
lack of cohesion led these Middle Eastern groups to start their own organisation in 1997, called the
Muslim Association of Britain (MAB). Since many of the YM members already felt a connection to the
Arab groups, there was a big move of members from ISB to MAB.
Then came 9/11; YM mentors, such as Shaikh Hamza Yusuf, began to revisit their worldview.
Although the 9/11 hijackers hailed predominantly from Saudi Arabia, their motivations were shaped
by individuals disillusioned and frustrated with the Brotherhood, and further agitated by the
Brotherhood's presumed ineffectiveness. Given these prior connections, and the elusive nature of
the adversary, the media sought an accessible target, thus focusing on organisations inspired by
Brotherhood ideology. This scrutiny led many YM members to question the very ideology to which
they had devoted their youth.
In these challenging times, YM found themselves in need of support. However, their prior decision to
distance from UKIM, coupled with their growing doubts about MAB's integrity, left them isolated.
The situation recalls how the USA, after enlisting the mujahideen to counter Russia in Afghanistan,
withdrew post-victory, abandoning the mujahideen who later targeted the USA in retaliation. Given
these complexities, beyond condemning atrocities and supporting victims, the expectations placed
on MAB remained unclear. The media pressure led many within YM to advocate for a shift in MAB's
ideological stance. Gradually, this resulted in a significant number of YM members disengaging from
MAB, with many stepping back from the limelight to concentrate on their professional lives.
The biggest loser among them all was ISB. ISB's vision was to unify all old and new organisations
under one leadership, but it failed. Following the mass departure of YM members from ISB, interest
among the remaining members dwindled. Many returned to their former organisations, such as
UKIM and Da’watul Islam. ISB attempted to stay relevant by running Radio Ramadan and hosting
annual Islam Awareness Week. However, as media consumption trends changed, the radio's
audience diminished significantly, rendering it near obsolete. Likewise, the repetitive nature of Islam Awareness Week lost its appeal, and people moved on. Today, ISB survives only within certain
families and no longer functions as a national organisation.
In fact, the YM in the 1990s was an outcome of three decades of selfless dedication from UKIM's
workers. Unfortunately, UKIM lacked engagement opportunities for the youth, offering only
reminders, speeches, and tarbiyah training. Over time, such content inevitably bored the ambitious
and intelligent youth among them; they yearned for meaningful projects, yet UKIM's vision extended
no further than relief efforts abroad. This oversight ultimately led to YM members feeling
ideologically adrift. The primary aim of the Islamic movement was to reverse the downturn of the
Muslim Ummah and propel it towards a renaissance leading to an era of cultural, intellectual, and
spiritual flourishing. But what was the plan, and which was the way forward? While UKIM members
could afford to discuss a wide range of topics, from local to universal, in their centres, this intellectual
luxury was out of reach to YM members. These young, ambitious individuals sought to make a
tangible impact but found themselves vulnerable to exploitation due to the lack of direction and
planning.
Like any migrant community, YM members in the 1990s were disconnected from their roots. UKIM
failed to provide anchors for them to secure their cultural heritage. They might have recognised the
names of luminaries like Shibli and Haali, Sir Syed and Azad, or Ghalib and Iqbal, yet they were
unaware of the rich cultural legacy bequeathed by their ancestors in the Indian subcontinent. This
lack of pride led to a sense of emptiness and an inferiority complex among many. While some YM
members sought comfort in Sufism, it too fell short of addressing their needs.
All the aforementioned factors led to the 1990s YM members becoming what a learned colleague
aptly described as 'ideologically homeless.' Following the disbanding of YM of the 1990s, many
former members endeavoured to launch initiatives at local or regional levels and established their
own networks. Among these, the Leaf Network, founded by Br Zahoor, stands out. However, their
endeavours echoed the fate of the Mughal emperor in India, Shah Jahan, renowned for constructing
the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort, who was dethroned and imprisoned by his son, Aurangzeb. After
seizing power, Aurangzeb offered his father a chance to fulfil a wish. Shah Jahan expressed a desire to
teach children, hoping to satisfy his craving for authority within a classroom setting. Despite being
provided with the opportunity, Shah Jahan quickly lost interest; the role was too limited for someone
accustomed to grandeur. Similarly, the former YM members found that their grand dreams of the
1990s could not be fulfilled by their later, more modest efforts.
Alas, the most sorrowful chapter had yet to unfold.
The USA and UK's invasion of Iraq and the subsequent toppling of Saddam Hussein led to a
significant power vacuum within the country, a situation the invading forces failed to address
effectively. This negligence provided an opening for local militants to ascend to power. Furthermore,
these groups exploited the civil war in Syria, establishing a quasi-state under the guise of religious
motivation. Known variably as Daesh, ISIS, ISIL, and IS, this faction was initially unfamiliar to the UK's
Muslim community. However, as Daesh began to attract sympathisers among those in the UK
disappointed with the government's decision to invade Iraq, the Islamic movement within the UK,
having no involvement in the war or peace efforts in Iraq and Syria, found itself under intense
scrutiny. This period marked one of the most difficult chapters for UK Muslims, who were forced into
a position of having to publicly denounce terrorism. Muslim leaders were frequently seen on
television, holding signs that declared, 'I am a Muslim, but I am not a terrorist,' among various
disclaimers, in an effort to declare their innocence and affirm their loyalty to the UK.
The irony lies in the fact that the research assistance provided to the government came from some
former YM members of the 1990s. The extent of accurate or misleading information supplied by
these individuals to government agencies may never be fully understood. However, it is clear that
they successfully persuaded policymakers that the Islamic movement embraced an ideology inclined
towards extremism. Maududi, a distinguished scholar of the last century renowned for his opposition
to violence and lifelong commitment to social justice, was wrongly branded an extremist thinker.
These YM members also promoted the use of 'Islamist,' a term inherently pejorative and one that
should be eradicated from public discourse. It is offensive to abuse a global community’s faith name
to label individuals with radical views, akin to derogatorily referring to a Pakistani as 'Paki' or
someone with dark skin as 'darky.' While it was not the first occurrence of 'Islamist' being used, these
YM members undoubtedly cemented its legitimacy and widespread use in the UK.
Among the YM members who came forward to assist the government, Sara Khan rose to
prominence. Along with her YM colleagues from the 1990s, she established an organisation named
Inspire. She became a leading advocate for the government’s controversial 'Prevent' programme,
aimed at combating extremism in the UK. Since then, she has undertaken various roles to support
the government in addressing extremism within the British Muslim community. However, her tenure
has been marked by controversy within the Muslim community itself. Khan began presenting
assertions that, in the community's perspective, were unfounded, leading to initial shock and
subsequent scepticism about her credibility. Over time, as these perceived inaccuracies mounted,
the community concluded that Khan might be delusional, prompting them to distance themselves
from her. She co-authored a book titled 'The Battle for British Islam – Reclaiming Muslim Identity
from Extremism.' While the book does not offer insights or solutions for the issues Sara Khan has
pointed out, the section detailing her own journey makes for an intriguing read. She has expressed
deep distress over being labelled as an ‘Islamophobe,’ ‘sell-out,’ ‘native informant,’ and ‘house
Muslim.’ In her words, “‘House Muslim’ derives from the Black Power and anti-slavery movement in
the United States. To get an idea of how offensive it is to British Muslims working in collaboration
with Government to prevent radicalisation, one should listen to Malcolm X’s use of it. The ‘house
Negro’ in his terminology, was a slave who loved his master more than his master loved himself,
talked like his master, ate like his master and enforced his laws against the slaves in the fields.”
What a tragedy! What a loss of a generation!! A total waste of four decades of hard work!!!
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