• This article examines the disparity between the strength in numbers of over 2 billion Muslims worldwide and the continued failure to prevent the brutal Palestinian genocide.
Whilst standing at the mouth of a tube station, a dapper elderly gentleman in a camel coat smiled warmly at me, the deep wrinkles on his forehead pronounced. His eyes were kind. My head was buried in a book about Khaled Abdul-Wahab— the wealthy Muslim Tunisian aristocrat who used his influence, his land, and his life to shield dozens of Jewish families from arrest, rape, and execution during the Nazi holocaust. The Caucasian man noticed the book I was holding in my hands, gestured towards it and said in a thick New York accent, “What a great guy that Muslim was hey? You know, there are two billion of you, and those animals still haven’t been stopped”. The old man was accompanied by an elderly woman who, it could be naturally assumed, was his wife. She wore a star of David necklace around her neck and continued to dote on her husband— looking at him with pride and care. They headed towards the train which was fast approaching— hand in hand— to catch the Northern line before I could even construct a response in my mind. I just sort of managed a nod and a smile.
But here’s the point: Why haven’t 2 billion of us been able to stop the genocide?
The pages I was turning were telling me all about how Abdul-Wahab outwitted Nazi soldiers, how he hid Jewish families on his family’s farm, and risked everything for the oppressed and those in dire need of being rescued. Of course, the scale of the Holocaust and Nazi operations in Europe was vastly large and more industrialised than in North Africa. Spielberg didn’t make a movie about Abdul-Wahab but his heroism is as important as Oskar Schindler’s. Abdul-Wahab was a hero who illustrated his Muslimness when Allah called for it the most: shielding civilians from evil and opposing injustice. Historian Robert Satleft suggests that his moral courage was rooted in his values. He referred to him as, “an elegant refined, cultured man, both an aesthete and a gourmand,” highlighting his appreciation for the finer things in life, which perhaps makes his courage even more pronounced— showing that despite living a life of privilege and comfort, he chose to risk everything for others.
The old man and the Muslim Tunisian had lit a firestorm of thoughts in my mind: about what true courage looks like—and why after 19 months and twenty days the carnage thirsty, blood lusting, demonic Israelis are continuing to execute a genocide of our brothers and sisters.
The following Hadith comes to mind:
“The nations will soon summon one another to attack you, as people invite others to share their dish.” Someone asked: “Will that be because of our small numbers at that time?” He replied: “No, you will be numerous then, but you will be like the foam of the sea. Allah will remove fear of you from the hearts of your enemies and will cast ‘wahn’ into your hearts.” Someone asked: “O Messenger of Allah, what is wahn?” He replied: “Love of the world and hatred for death.” Sunan Abu Dawud, Hadith 4297
The Nazi Holocaust- one of humanities staggering moral catastrophes- unfolded in the absence of 24 hour news cycles and social media activists screaming at the top of their lungs to protest against it. The mass murder of six million Jews did not play out to the world in real time. It was not a live-streamed holocaust. In fact, in far-away lands, in several non-Western, non-industrialised regions, particularly among the illiterate, the holocaust remained largely invisible as it was unfolding.
I have heard Muslims talk about how other Muslims aren’t doing enough. I mean, I get it. For instance, I have walked past the Starbucks on Edgware Road a hundred times since October 7th, baffled by the amount of Arabs from the Middle East in there, ordering their favourite Caramel Latte to get their morning kick, operating as if nothing has happened. I also recall this one time when my mum was watching another shouting match on ARY Digital, and a journalist— a sister, said in Urdu, “What can we do for Palestine? Pakistan has its own problems.” This, I hasten to add, was prior to Pakistan being attacked and India subsequently being humiliated in the skies. What’s wrong with our people? Where did this stunted vision— this restricted perception of Allah (swt) take root?
We are supposed to work together and give reminders to one another but, perhaps the problem is that we, as Muslims, need to be outdoing ourselves right now; looking within. I mean, if all 2 billion of us did this. Oof. But, if we remain stagnant in our activism, or worse still, desensitised to the Holocaust on our screens, we will be letting ourselves down, as well as them. Our duas need to be louder— crying to Allah to free our oppressed family. For instance, would we be able to exhibit the courage of Abdul-Wahab or the Flinton 18, acting within the legal perimeters of the law of course. And what are we doing to challenge the corruption that plagues so many of our so-called Islamic governments? Furthermore, we must contribute towards being a unified ummah instead of engaging in nonsensical online spats, particularly at a time when we need to be unified the most.
