IRSHAD MANJI AND THE SEARCH FOR 'IJTIHAD'
National Post, April 14, 2007
By Robert Fulford

It was probably inevitable that Irshad Manji would emerge as both narrator and star of Faith Without Fear, a one-hour documentary critique of Islam. The program appears on TV twice this week, first on Thursday night on the PBS America at a Crossroads series (now tainted by the decision to withdraw Islam vs. Islamists, a film by another Canadian, Martyn Burke, apparently because PBS considers it too hostile to Islamic extremists) and then on Global Saturday night.

Manji's appearance at the core of Faith Without Fear reflects the fact that her opinions have turned her everyday life into a high-profile drama. In 2003 her book, The Trouble with Islam, gave her a role in a global controversy. It aroused hope among those who want Islam reformed and excited the rage of Muslims who consider criticism of their faith offensive, particularly when it comes from a self-designated "Muslim refusenik" who believes the Koran needs reinterpretation.

Manji has her supporters, but many Muslims respond to her arguments with insults and death threats. She lives behind bulletproof glass in a Toronto house whose address she doesn't casually disclose. While filming part of Faith Without Fear in Yemen, she had three bodyguards.

Her presence in the foreground of the program turns out to be engaging and often surprising. In tone, this resembles no other film about Islam. To a faith deeply stained by tragedy, Manji brings the buoyant optimism of an energetic Canadian feminist who believes problems, however titanic, can be solved by goodwill, persuasion, intelligence and relentless effort. Never solemn, disarmingly relaxed in her narration, she comes across as a most unlikely dissident.

The graceful but sharply pointed script, on which Manji collaborated with the director, Ian McLeod, borrows the traditional format of picaresque novels in which a highly resilient central figure travels to distant places in search of knowledge. The journey provides the structure.

In Yemen, she meets an amiable cab driver who used to be a bodyguard for Osama bin Laden; he remains so loyal to al-Qaeda that he hopes to see his own young son become a martyr. In the Netherlands, Manji talks with Ayaan Hirsi Ali, whose filmmaking partner, Theo Van Gogh, was murdered for directing Submission, an abrasive attack on Islam's treatment of women. The murderer left a death threat for Hirsi Ali, who has since abandoned the Netherlands for a think-tank job in Washington. Manji also meets a Dutch Muslim rapper, musically westernized but sympathetic to Van Gogh's killer.

Salman Rushdie shows up to tell us that writers enjoying freedom have a duty to use it, which fits in with Manji's views. The "fear" in her title refers, among other things, to the fear of speaking freely. Underneath all her work a crucial question remains unanswered: Can Islam learn to tolerate those who are faithful but refuse to be fearfully obedient? The answer, so far, is no, but Manji remains hopeful.

In Spain she meets a Muslim leader whose opinions support her desire for a return to ijtihad, the ancient tradition of independent thinking that once allowed Islam to create a sophisticated civilization.

We meet Manji's mother, Mumtaz Manji, who supports her daughter's work but fears that she goes dangerously far. She would also be happier if Irshad would follow the usual five-times-a-day prayer rules. Those are God's rules, she says, and Irshad shouldn't be making up her own, praying when she wishes. Her love and concern for her daughter are among the most memorable qualities of this touching and often stirring film.

There's one brief scene that begins by looking frivolous but then turns deeply evocative. In a Yemen store Manji tries on a full burqa, which hides everything except her hands and eyes. At first her encounter with the storekeeper looks like a spoof, a way to lighten the narrative. As Manji takes off her glasses so that he can help her put on the headscarf, she jokes, "Talk about blind faith."

But her intention suddenly becomes clear: We are watching a good-looking, highly expressive woman vanish behind yards of black fabric. Before our eyes she seems to surrender her very self. As we follow her out onto the street, the effect grows more chilling. Men stroll past, dressed according to their own tastes, while Manji disappears in a mass of anonymous black shapes, moving gently into the distance on the road back to the middle ages. What looked at first like a footnote becomes the most expressive passage in the story.


CALLING ALL MUSLIMS
The Toronto Star, April 17, 2007
By Stuart Laidlaw

Irshad Manji's mother is her inspiration. This needs to be understood before any meaningful discussion of her call for a radical rethinking of Islam is possible.

"I like to see my mother as the hope for Islam, not me," says Manji, whose book, The Trouble With Islam Today, has been made into a television special called Faith Without Fear, airing Thursday at 9 p.m. on PBS and Saturday at 8 p.m. on Global.

And it's not because her mother, Mumtaz Manji, has come around to her daughter's way of thinking and embraced a more flexible approach to Islam. She remains, as Manji likes to say, a "five times a day on the rug praying" Muslim.

Manji's writing, and the thousands of keynote address, speeches and interviews it has spawned, calls for a rethinking of Islam in the modern world to break the hold of those who use it to use it to promote their repressive ideas.

But in the end, she says, if someone rethinks Islam, and rereads its holy book, the Qur'an, with a critical eye, and still opts for a conservative approach to her faith – as her mother has – that's just fine.

That's because it's the process of reinterpretation that's important, not the achievement of some predetermined theology, Manji says, stressing that true faith cannot be prescribed by others.

Muslims, she says, need to read the Qur'an for themselves and develop a personal relationship with the faith – rather than having it handed to them by their imams or in madressa schools.

"There's a difference between faith and dogma," says Manji.

Manji says her mother has gone through that process, reading and rereading the Qur'an. Mumtaz Manji has discussed and debated its meaning with her daughter and others over and over again.

And, in the end, she remained a conservative Muslim, covering her hair in public and attending prayer at her mosque faithfully. Manji says that's fine, because her mother has decided on her own to be that sort of Muslim. Nobody is forcing her.

Manji, however, is a different sort of Muslim.

In her book and the new television special, which is part of U.S. public broadcaster PBS's week-long special America at a Crossroads, she calls for a return to the Muslim tradition of ijtihad, a process of independent thinking that she says would renew Islam for the 21st century.

"It's high time we re-interpret – not rewrite – the Qur'an," she says.

That kind of talk has earned Manji a lot of enemies. Faith Without Fear, in fact, opens with an explanation from Manji that she must keep the location of her home secret, since she receives so many death threats.

Her challenge to Muslims to re-interpret the Qur'an is seen as blasphemy by fundamentalists. The New York Times has dubbed her "Osama bin Laden's worst nightmare" for inspiring people to question some of the basic tenets of traditional Islam.

Take, for instance, the Qur'an, which Muslims are taught is the final word of God, handed down to the Prophet Mohammed – and therefore perfect. "This supremacy complex is dangerous," Manji says.

It cuts off debate and leads to a literal interpretation of the scriptures. Jihadists, she says, are very adept at quoting the Qur'an to justify their violence, making other Muslims reluctant to criticize them for fear of being seen as questioning the perfection of the Qur'an.

"We're talking moderates here," says Manji, who saves some of her harshest criticism for liberal Muslims who do not speak out more against fundamentalists. The problem, she says, is that even moderate Muslims believe in the perfection of the Qur'an, which feeds a tribal mentality in Islam and allowed fundamentalism to take root as the mainstream of the faith.

Liberal Muslims, she says, are in denial about this, and so fail to effectively challenge those who use Islam to promote terror.

"They are saying to the fundamentalists, `We are not going to go toe to toe with you with bold new interpretations of the Qur'an.'"

She fears for the future of her faith, saying it won't survive if cannot endure debate.

"It's calcified, it's brittle, and it cannot stand up to questions," she says.

That's what Faith Without Fear is all about, she says. It picks up where the book left off, challenging Muslims not to be afraid to question some of the basic aspects of their faith.

From her experience, the result could be good for all of Islam. Like her mother, she has found that questioning her faith has given her a new appreciation for Islam and a stronger understanding of the Qur'an.

"My own faith has deepened since this journey began."

The trick now, Manji says, is to convince more Muslims to take a similar journey.