Shīʿī Institutions of North America: The Muslim Group – An Interview with Dr. Ghassan Zalzaleh

By
Ayman Mahdi
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The Shīʿī community in North America, from its earliest years, founded a number of organizations to provide institutional support for the community’s array of needs and goals. Many of the earliest founded institutions continue to exist today, though in an evolved form. This is the second in an installment of Occasional Papers that explore the roots and developments of some of the community’s important institutions and projects through the eyes of the some of their prominent participants. In this interview, we continue the series with the Muslim Group (also known as the Muslim Group of the United States and Canada).

Al-Sidrah had the privilege to speak with Dr. Ghassan Zalzaleh. Dr. Ghassan Zalzaleh is a Syrian-American oncology doctor who lives in the suburbs of Chicago. He is the head of the Board of Trustees of the Muslim Group and has been working, hand-in-hand, with other board members for more than 25 years to keep this organization contributing to the Muslim community of North America.

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Transcript (lightly edited for clarity and content)

Q: What can you tell me about the Muslim Group? And what is your position at Muslim Group?

A: Muslim Group it is a non-profit organization that was established about 35 years ago for Muslims who live in America. It was established at that time because there was a need for a gathering for the Muslim students coming from different countries and for those who were living in the US. It was founded by students for students with the blessings and following the advice of religious leadership (marājiʿ). The Muslim Group has a Board of Trustees and I am one of these five board members.

Q: How broad and how active was the Muslim Group when it first started?

A: Muslim Group was established only to serve the Arab Muslim community in America, mainly students and their families who came to study here. It started as an occasional gathering to accommodate religious needs as Muslims in America.

Q: So for the past 2 or 3 conferences, I noticed that it primarily depends on young adults and on students. Has that always been the case or was there some sort of senior supervision?

A: Well actually those people who started the organization at that time, they were young and they had to do all the work themselves. There were no senior members or other senior ʿulamaʾ supervising their work directly, until they became seniors later on. Their children or those who were children and young kids at that time became the young staff and workers of that organization.

Q: What made you decide that establishing such an organization was important in the United States?

A: At that time, 30-40 years ago, we lacked Islamic centers, mosques, Islamic libraries, social clubs, and other Islamic facilities. There were only a few such institutes, here and there, and they were not accessible to everyone. Furthermore, communication between Muslims at that time was hard due to the scarcity of Islamic centers, and therefore, it was a necessity, at that time, to do some networking, to socialize, to arrange some gatherings, and to bring Muslims together, to provide some social and Islamic education to people, and for our younger generations to grow up with other Muslim peers. That is what made it a highly demanded necessity in the community.

The late Sayyid Muḥammad Ḥusayn Faḍl Allāh (r) at the 4th annual Muslim Group Conference, 1982
The late Sayyid Muḥammad Ḥusayn Faḍl Allāh (r) at the 4th annual Muslim Group Conference, 1982

Q: Was there a scholar or a religious institution that sponsored or supervised the group in its first days?

A: No, there was no sponsorship in that sense; however, it was advised by the marjiʿ Sayyid Muḥammad Ḥusayn Faḍl Allāh in the 1970s. I believe he had come here to the US and saw the conditions of Muslims living here and got in touch with them; so he advised the youth at that time to make this and go from there. He was giving us his blessings all the time as well as other marājiʿ later on, but that does not mean it was sponsored by anybody.

Q: For the past 35 years, how has the Muslim Group gathered their funds, and how  are they able to give scholarships and other benefits to the community?

A: Usually we have our annual conference which covers its own fees and expenses, and also we have donors. Al-ḥamdu lillāh, for the past 30 years, every year we have some believers who can support this group financially, and they prefer to be anonymous to get more ajr (reward). These are the two major sources for our funding.

Q: Is there anything besides the conference that the Muslim Group provides to the community?

A: Not that much! I mean, as I told you before, when MG first started, there were no Islamic centers or other facilities to serve the Muslim community. There was a greater need for centers and many other things, and therefore we tried to fill the gap. We did youth camps almost every year. We held Duʿāʾ al-Kumayl every week, had a library, and had a magazine called “al-Hidayah.” All this was in the 70’s, 80’s, and early 90’s. Later on, the need from us to do all this was less. Al-ḥamdu lillāh other centers opened their doors and they were offering these services. However, there was more need for communication and networking for Muslims among themselves. Our group focused more on this side, as well as education, and hence we still have our annual conference and the library.

al-Hidayah MG Scan
Al-Hidayah Magazine from April 1995

Q: Based on that, we can understand that now there is no main office, headquarter, branches. Is that correct?

A: We still have branches in different cities, but they are no longer active. The library is still in Dearborn, MI. Our headquarters is in Dearborn at the library. Most of the old staff and our senior members who were there left and went back to their home countries. That is the main reason why MG was fading away, but māshāʾAllāh we have a new generation that is coming right now. And, you see, MG started with only Arab Muslim students; now, after 35 years, we matured to include other Muslims from different ethnic backgrounds. In the beginning, Arabic was the main language. Now, we have matured for English to be the main language. It is a long maturing process, and al-ḥamdu lillāh we are growing and maturing in the right direction.

Q: On your website, it says that you have a Board of Trustees, Executive Board, and then there are the Regional Committees. So my understanding is that the Board of Trustees controls the administrative part; and the Executive Board, which is mostly young people, is responsible for executing orders. Is that right? And what more can you tell us about it?

A: No, that is not correct! We have a Board of Trustees, which is comprised of five members whose role is to maintain the integrity of the Muslim Group’s path of Islamic activism. And for any critical decision, we need to be involved. And any time the Executive Committee has any conflict or any doubt about any issue, they consult the Board of Trustees. The Board of Trustees has the superior power, has the educational and supervision power, but we do not order people. We do not order. We tell them about the conference, ideas, and thoughts. We lay everything in front of them and we ask them to come up with a plan to make this happen. They take all that and come back with a plan and here our job is to give them some advice, but we do not oblige them to take it, unless there is a greater good and it is really critical.

Q: In the past three years, the conference has been held here in the Chicagoland area. Is this going to continue? Can we say that Chicago is the new headquarters?

A: No, it is not the new headquarters. Our decision was based on numerous reasons. The most popular and the easiest to reach city was Chicago. It is mainly because of the ease of coming here: to and from the airport, close to Milwaukee, Indiana, Michigan, St. Louis, and other cities. That was number one. Number two is that you cannot make it on the east or on the west costs. The other cities that can compete with Chicago is Saint Louis, which we have tried a couple of times. The conference was not as successful as when it was in Chicago. Moreover, the community of Chicago is also helping and wanting this to be here, which is good. The hotels here are better, because you need a hotel that can accommodate 1000 attendees; and you would want to have plan B, just in case there is some problem. Chicago is big enough to offer this too, and cover it.

Flyer for the Muslim Group Conference, 2014
Flyer for the Muslim Group Conference, 2014

Q: Does the Muslim Group plan to co-work with other organizations, centers, schools, or seminaries?

A: The Muslim Group, for the longest time, they have been open to work with anybody if they share the same mission with them. Now, there is an idea that is being studied and might be executed this year which is to have the Ahl al-Bayt Islamic Seminary organize a couple of sessions at the conference, and that will show collaboration.

We have tried this with other organizations, some worked okay while others did not work. This is the reason why we are very careful with this thing. We, almost over the last 30 years or so, kept our neutrality. We kept being open to every Muslim, even if they are not from the Shīʿī school of thought. We brought speakers from different schools of thought and from different backgrounds. We try to deal will all the issues that face Muslims in the US, so our speakers do not speak only about Islam, but also medicine, science, technology, etc. We are not restricting ourselves to anything. We are open for any discussion about any collaboration with anybody who shares our mission, and our mission is to improve the well-being of the Muslim community in North America by educating, socializing, and by networking together.

Q: Do you have any closing remarks on behalf of the Muslim Group to the Muslim community at large, or to the Ahl al-Bayt Islamic Seminary faculty and students, specifically?

A: To the community at large, we are always appreciative of them. They never, ever let us down. They never failed us. Every year we hold the conference, it is better than the year before. And I know that the new generation and the youth are showing much enthusiasm and also professionalism, which is giving us more confidence and forcing us to give more and more to the community back.

For the ḥawzah: this year, we had a collaboration in one or two sessions in the night programs, and it was a good start. We understand that this is a new theme or environment for them, and we thought at the same time that this may, at one point, present to them an opportunity to practice their studies that they are doing at the ḥawzah, and for them to try to help others through this conference. This conference is going to make them interact with many people, not only from Chicago, rather from different cities of the USA and Canada. So there is a mutual benefit inshāʾ Allāh. And inshāʾ Allāh we will have some kind of fruitful collaboration in the near future.

 

al-Sidrah: An Introduction

By
Sayyid Sulayman Hassan
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Sayyid Sulayman Hassan

The Ahl al-Bayt Islamic Seminary was established with the mission of training Islamic scholars and leaders who can guide the Muslim communities in the West. To succeed in this mission, in addition to preparing strong scholars rooted in the rich heritage of traditional Islamic learning, the Seminary will require an intimate spiritual and academic connection to the communities it serves. It is the individuals and institutions of these communities who are the primary audience and beneficiaries of the Seminary’s message and mission.

The Seminary’s publication, al-Sidrah, aims to create that essential link between the Seminary’s specialized offerings on the one hand and the broader needs of our society on the other. By producing and imparting critical scholarship and engaging vital societal and cultural issues, al-Sidrah will serve as a forum to foster a deeper appreciation for the values and teachings of Islam.

The publication’s name, al-Sidrah, is inspired by the celestial “lote-tree” mentioned in the Qurʾān in connection with the Prophet’s night journey to the heavens. The lote-tree symbolizes Divinely-inspired knowledge and the connection between the celestial and the mundane realms, and the name, al-Sidrah, reflects the believer’s yearning to remain ever connected to the spring of Divine guidance and knowledge.

On behalf of the students and faculty of the Ahl al-Bayt Islamic Seminary, we invite you to join the Seminary’s community by participating in its intellectual and spiritual mission—and we hope that al-Sidrah will be a worthy companion as you set out on this path.

 

Imāmic and Scholastic Knowledge: An Interview with Sayyid Sulayman Hassan

By
Naveed Ganjani
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Interview Questions Authored by Naveed Ganjani and Azhar Sheraze.

In accordance with the Imāmī Shīʿī interpretation of Islam, the Prophet Muḥammad (ṣ) was succeeded by divinely appointed successors from among his progeny, the Imāms of the Ahl al-Bayt. These Imāms guided the Muslim community by infallibly preserving and disseminating the teachings of Islam. During the 9th century C.E., however, the Twelfth Shīʿī Imām (a) went into a state of absence. Azhar Sheraze sat down with Sayyid Sulayman Hassan to discuss some of the intellectual ramifications of this absence, and the requirements and limits of scholarship in relation to Imāmic knowledge.

The Roots of Taqlīd in the Shīʿī Community

By
al-Sidrah
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Sayyid Saʿīd al-Ḥakīm

The following translated passages come from a larger work in Arabic by Sayyid Muḥammad Saʿīd al-Ḥakīm in which he addresses some of the main issues that surround the practice of referring to a jurist for legal issues (taqlīd).

Sayyid Muḥammad Saʿīd al-Ḥakīm is one of the prominent religious legal authorities (marājiʿ, s. marjīʿ) of our day and resides in Najaf, Iraq. He comes from a long line of religious authorities, including his grand uncle, Sayyid Muḥsin al-Ḥakīm, who was the primary marjiʿ of the Shīʿah world after the death of Sayyid Ḥusayn Burūjirdī in 1961.

The book, al-Marjiʿiyyah al-dīniyyah, attempts to answer many of the questions and misconceptions about taqlīd: the necessity of this practice, the proper method for choosing one’s marjiʿ, the necessary conditions of a marjiʿ, and the responsibilities of both the marjiʿ and the muqallid, or one who refers to a legal authority. The book is presented in question-and-answer format and is distinguished from introductory jurisprudence (fiqh) by referring to some of the reasons for the particular issue addressed—whether they be relevant narrated traditions (aḥadīth), historical evidence, or otherwise—in an attempt to answer and reconcile for the reader some of these seemingly ubiquitous questions about the practice of taqlīd. We hope that, God-willing, this will be the first installment in a series of such translations.

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Question:

 When did the Shīʿah begin the practice of referring to scholars for taqlīd? Was this tradition present among the Shīʿah before the Occultation, i.e. when the Imāms were present, or even during the Lesser Occultation? Or did it begin afterward?

Answer:

All praise is due to God, the Lord of the Realms. Peace and blessings be upon our master and our prophet, Muḥammad, and upon his pure progeny. And may God’s curses be upon all their enemies until Judgment Day.

The practice of referring to scholars and inquiring about religious laws (al-aḥkām al-sharʿiyyah) is a tradition that existed from the earliest periods among the Shīʿah and the general Muslim community; and in every period, there were a group of people who would issue verdicts on these issues.

In fact the texts are replete with instances where Shīʿī scholars confront these issues of religious law [before the Occultation] such as in the case of Abān ibn Taghlib, about whom Shaykh al-Ṭūsī, after many words of praise, says, “[Imām] al-Bāqir said to him, ‘Sit in the masjid of Madīnah and give religious verdicts to the people. For from among my Shīʿah, I would love the likes of you to be seen.’ And thus he sat [in the masjid and gave verdicts].” [1]

There is the example of Muʿādh ibn Muslim al-Naḥwī, about whom the following is narrated:

Imām al-Ṣādiq once said, “I have heard that you sit in the great masjid and give religious verdicts to the people.” I [Muʿādh] responded, “Yes, and I intended to ask you about this before I departed. I sit in the masjid and when a person comes asking me about an issue, if I know that person opposes you, I inform him of what they (the opponents) say. If another comes to me and I know he is devoted to you, I inform him of what has been narrated from you. And if yet another comes to me and I know not who he is, I tell him, ‘This person states this, and that individual narrates that,’ and I interject your views in-between (my comments).’” The Imām then told me, “Do this, for verily I too do this.” [2]

However, Shīʿī jurisprudence (fiqh) and its scholars were not distinct and independent in the earliest periods because of the many calamities and difficulties that befell the Shīʿī community in those periods. Indeed such difficulties caused the community to primarily focus on political issues, as they prioritized striving to acquire political power for the Ahl al-Bayt. They were primarily concerned with having the Ahl al-Bayt assume power, without seeking to clarify the key differences in fiqh between the Ahl al-Bayt and others. At times, the (early) Shīʿah would even request religious verdicts and adopt laws from the scholars of the general community, being unaware of the difference between these verdicts and laws and those of the Ahl al-Bayt.

But after the tragedy of Ṭaff [Karbala], any hope that the Ahl al-Bayt would acquire political dominion was dashed for at least the foreseeable future. This event, on the one hand, made manifest the purity of the Ahl al-Bayt, and evinced their rights [upon the community]. On the other hand, it laid bare the signs of misguidance and falsehood lurking in the larger Muslim polity. Thus, the Shīʿah turned to the Imāms from among the Ahl al-Bayt, so that they could acquire their religion from them in terms of both belief and law, and thus break with and avoid leaders other than them.

For the Imāms, this was a ripe opportunity and an appropriate moment to disseminate their knowledge and instruct the Shīʿah in all aspects of faith, whether regarding religious belief or practice, such as the criteria for love and devotion, or dislike and dissociation. The Imāms strove to develop a religious worldview for their Shīʿah from which the Shīʿah could support and broadcast the Imāms’ teachings; and through which the Shīʿah would become independent of others.

And it seems that Imām al-Bāqir was referring to this issue in his testament to Imām al-Ṣādiq. In an authentic narration (ṣaḥīḥ) by Ḥishām ibn Sālim, it is reported from [Imām al-Ṣādiq] who said, “When my father was near death, he said [to me], ‘Oh Jaʿfar, I enjoin you to goodness towards my companions.’ I replied, “May I be your sacrifice! By God, I will indeed leave them such that one of them will be in a city and will not need to ask another [for his religious questions].” [3]

And he indeed fulfilled that promise. In turn, the Shīʿah began to seek out and follow their scholars, with a group of those scholars being referred to for religious verdicts, and with these scholars being in line with the guidance of the Imāms.

In an authentic narration by Shuʿayb al-ʿAqarqūfī, it is narrated, “I said to [Imām al-Ṣādiq], ‘We may need to inquire about some issues. Who should we ask our questions to? He said, ‘Go to al-Asadī,’ referring to Abū Baṣīr.” [4]

And in another authentic narration, ‘Abdullah ibn Abī Yaʿfūr states, “I said to [Imām al-Ṣādiq], ‘Indeed, I will not be able to meet you at every time [of need], and I will not be able to come to you. If one of our companions comes to me and asks me something, I may not have the answers to all his questions.’ He responded, ‘What has prevented you from Muḥammad ibn Muslim al-Thaqafī? He has indeed heard (and learned) from my father and was honored by him.” [5]

There are narrations about referring to other individual scholars, such as al-Ḥārith ibn al-Mughīrah, Zurārah ibn Aʿyan, al-Mufaḍḍal ibn ʿUmar, al-ʿAmrī and his son, and many others—too many to be enumerated here. [6]

The Imāms also made general injunctions to refer to the scholars of the community without exclusively mentioning a particular individual. Such injunctions can be found in many different texts, such as the blessed and famous letter of the awaited Imām, the Imām of our age, may Allah hasten his reappearance—a letter that was received near the beginning or middle of the Lesser Occultation. [7]

In addition, the Imāms perfected Shīʿī fiqh and made the community independent of other sources as mentioned in a reliable narration (muwaththaq) from Muḥammad ibn Ḥakīm… [8] And it is narrated from the book of Imām al-Hādī, by Aḥmad ibn Ḥātim and his brother… [9]

And indeed, at times, scholars from other schools would refer to these scholars when faced with difficult problems. The other [non-Shīʿī] scholars knew that the Shīʿī scholars had derived their knowledge from a pure spring that never runs dry. [10]

The Imāms had also strongly emphasized the writing of knowledge and aḥadīth. This was to preserve knowledge and to allow the people to benefit from that knowledge, especially during the occultation, where the people would have no recourse other than to texts of aḥādīth [for their religion]. In this regard, it is narrated in the Muʿtabar of Abū Basir, “I heard [Imām al-Ṣādiq] state, “Write, for you will indeed not be safeguarded unless you write.” [11]

And a reliable narration by ʿUbayd ibn Zurārah states, “[Imām al-Ṣādiq] once said, ‘Safeguard your books, for you will come to need them.’” [12] There is also a narration from al-Mufaḍḍal ibn ʿUmar in this regard. [13]

Thus, the Shīʿī jurists began to write books on religious laws and injunctions for the people to abide by, many of which resembled modern treatises on religious practices. Among the books of this genre that are reported to us include: Yawm wa laylah (One Day and One Night) of Yūnus ibn ʿAbd al-Raḥmān, one of the companions of Imām al-Riḍā. This text is praised in numerous sources and endorsed to be acted upon. [14] Then there is the book, known as al-Taʾdīb by Yūnus’ student, Aḥmad ibn ʿAbdullāh ibn Mahrān, also known as ibn Khānabah. There is also the treatise by ʿAlī ibn Bābawayh al-Qummī, the father of al-Ṣadūq, who died during the Lesser Occultation. And the book al-Mutamassik bi-ḥabl āl al-rasūl, by Ibn Abī ʿAqīl al-ʿUmānī, who was al-Qummī’s contemporary. And the book al-Mukhtaṣar al-Aḥmadī fī al-fiqh al-Muḥammadī, by Ibn al-Junayd, who was close to the former two.

The book Man lā yaḥḍuruh al-faqīh, written by al-Ṣadūq in the beginning of the Greater Occultation, and comprising his own religious verdicts, is entirely a treatise on religious practices, written for one who cannot easily access a jurist.

Each subsequent generation of scholars continued the tradition of these treatises on religious practices, such as Shaykh al-Mufīd’s al-Muqniʿah, Sayyid al-Murtaḍā’s Jumal al-ʿilm wa al-ʿamal, Shaykh al-Ṭūsī’s al-Nihāyah fī mujarrad al-fiqh wa al-fatwā—may God sanctify all their purified souls—and many other texts too numerous to enumerate here.

[1] al-Fihrist, 17.

[2] Wasāʾil al-shīʿah, 18, 108

[3] al-Kāfī, 1, 306.

[4] Ikhtiyār maʿrifah al-rijāl, 1, 400.

[5] Wasāʾil, 18, 105. Also see ibid.,18, 106; 18, 107.

[6] See Rijāl al-Kashshi, 357, 483, 595; and Rijāl al-Ṭūsī, 509; Waṣāʾil, 18, 103-111.

[7] Wasāʾil, 18, 101.

[8] Ibid., 18, 61.

[9] Ibid., 18, 110.

[10] See the reliable (muwaththaq) tradition by Muḥammad ibn Muslim in Rijāl al-Kashshī, 146. And the narration of al-Sayyārī, Wasāʾil, 12, 410.

[11] Ibid., 18, 56.

[12] Ibid.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Ibid., 18:71-2.

God’s Emissaries: An Excerpt on The Creation of Adam and the Fall of Iblīs

By
al-Sidrah
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The following is an excerpt from the book, God’s Emissaries: Adam to Jesus, penned by Shaykh Rizwan Arastu and published by the Imam Mahdi Association of Marjaeya (I.M.A.M.).  The excerpt touches on some of the details of Adam’s creation understood from the traditions of the Prophet (s) and the Imams (a).  A copy of the book can be obtained at the Islamic Texts Institute.

Front Cover High Res

Dust to Make the Vicegerent

God decided that his vicegerent over the material world should be made of the material world. In particular, he wished to make him out of dust.[23] When he informed the earth that he would make a race of creatures from her dust and that these creatures would have the freedom to choose their actions—that some would choose to obey their creator and some would choose to sin, the earth shuddered.[24] She begged God not to make of her dust a creature that could potentially sin and then burn in hellfire. God assured her that his will would be done notwithstanding her reservations.[25]

He sent Archangel Gabriel with the task of gathering the dust. However, when he descended to collect it, the earth pleaded with him to give her respite so that she could beg God once again not to use her earth for this creature. God heard her cries and told Gabriel to return to the skies without taking her dust. In turn, God sent Archangels Michael and Seraphiel, and they met with a similar obstinacy. Then, when Archangel Azrael descended, the earth protested again, but Azrael said, “My Lord has commanded me to do something. I shall fulfill this duty whether you like it or not.”[26]

The earth renewed her protests saying, “God forbid that you take my dust.”

Azrael retorted, “God forbid that I return to him not having fulfilled my duty.”[27] With that, he proceeded to gather earth of different colors: white, red, brown, and black; of different temperaments: rocky, soft, sweet, and salty.[28] Then he gathered different kinds of water: fresh, salty, bitter, and putrid. From these varieties of earth and water, God would eventually create a diversity of colors and temperaments in his new creature.[29]

When Azrael had collected the dust and water as God had prescribed, God told him, “Just as you successfully seized this dust from the earth despite her resistance, from this day forward, you shall have the honor of seizing the souls of all my creatures at the time when I ordain their death.”[30] From then on, Azrael became the Angel of Death.

The Creation of Adam’s Form

God ordered one of his angels to mix the various portions of dry dust and water that Azrael had collected.[31] The angel poured the clay into the water forming dark foul-smelling clay.[32] He strained it to remove the stones and other foreign substances and to make the clay a homogeneous extract of clay.[33] Then he kneaded the clay for forty years[34] until it turned sticky and cohesive.[35] He let this sticky clay cure for another forty years.[36] From this sticky clay, God fashioned[37] the hollow figure of a human being, standing upright, in perfect form,[38] and fully circumcised.[39] He made him precisely in the form he had ordained for him in the Protected Tablet since time immemorial.[40]

For forty additional years[41] he let the figure dry and cure so that it would hold its shape.[42] Eventually it hardened into hollow, resonant clay[43] so fine it seemed like fired pottery.[44] In this state, God’s new creature stood as a lifeless statue.

Reactions to Adam’s Lifeless Form

During this time, the angels would pass by the figure and wonder to themselves, “For what have you been created?”[45] They did not yet know that this lifeless statue was to become the vicegerent God had vowed to create. One individual in particular by the name of Iblīs was a jinn[46] who had earned a place among the angels for his unwavering devotion to God and for his exceptional perseverance in worshiping God.[47] But now, gazing upon this meek figure, made of vile earth, it crossed his mind that God may have intended to make this his vicegerent. For the first time in his long life, he felt the distinct flame of jealousy kindle in his heart. He passed by the figure and said, “If this is what God wants to make into his vicegerent, I shall rebel.”[48] He swiftly drove the thought from his mind and cast off the possibility as ludicrous, for he knew God was wise and would never do something that to him seemed so foolish.[49]

God assembled all of his angels along with Iblīs and announced to them, “I am creating a human being from dry, resonant clay fashioned from dark foul-smelling clay. So when I have fashioned him and blown into him of the human spirit, which is solely mine to give, fall prostrate before him.”[50] It was a Friday,[51] and they prepared themselves to obey the divine command when God said to the figure, “Be!” and he was.[52] By one simple act, the divine will to create, the figure imbibed the spirit of life and changed from a mere clay statue to the first human being. God created him thus, without parents, as a testament for all the world to his omnipotence.[53] God named him Adam because he created him from adīm al-arḍ, dust from the surface of the earth.[54]

Adam Is Brought to Life

Adam felt life soaking into his body. As it reached his nose, he sneezed. God taught him to say, “Praise is for God, Lord of all realms.”

He repeated, “Praise is for God, Lord of all realms.”

Then God addressed him for the very first time and said, “May God have mercy on you. This is why I have created you—to know that I am one God, to worship me, to praise me, to believe in me and so that you do not reject me or associate partners with me.”[55]

Adam Is Taught the Names

God turned his attention toward the assembly of angels. They were still ignorant of the great potential with which God had invested this new creature. Nonetheless, they were prepared to obey God’s command and prostrate before him, only because of their conviction that God would only command what is good. However, before God ordered them to prostrate, he wished to demonstrate to them what they had accepted on faith—that Adam was the most worthy of all creatures to hold the vicegerency of God, far superior to any angel.

Before the assembly of angels, in the span of an instant, God taught Adam all of the names of his creatures.[56] These names were not mere words.[57] They represented deep, complete knowledge of all of God’s creatures, seen and unseen, those that had been created and those yet to be created, sentient and inanimate. Chief among these creatures were the divine guides, the myriad prophets, and other infallible beings God would eventually create.

God presented a representation of these creatures to his angels. Among them were the prophets and messengers from Adam’s progeny, the best of whom were Prophet Muḥammad, his family, and their righteous companions and followers.[58]  He said to the angels, “Inform me of their names if you were truthful in your prior implied claim that you are more worthy as vicegerents than he.”[59]

They exclaimed, “Exalted are you! We have absolutely no knowledge except what you have taught us. You alone are the All-Knowing, the Wise.”[60]

God addressed Adam and said, “O Adam! Inform them of the names of these creatures.” When he had informed them of their names, God said to the angels, “Did I not tell you that I know whatever is unseen in the skies and the earth and that I know what you reveal and what you used to hide.”[61] When they had asked God about the wisdom behind creating such a vicegerent, they had revealed part of their intent. But they had concealed within their hearts the sentiment that no earthly creature could become as close to God as they had. Now they began to see that they had sorely underestimated this creature.[62]

The Angels Bow Down

God addressed the assembly of angels saying:

Adam and the righteous from his progeny are far superior to you because they will bear whatever burdens they are made to bear, and they will persevere against the predicaments in which they find themselves: against attacks by Satan’s allies;[63] against their carnal souls; against the burdens of supporting a family; against the struggle to earn a lawful living; against the annoying fear of an attack by enemies like frightful bandits and tyrannical kings; against hardships in traveling on roads and through impasses and frightening places, through valleys and over mountains and hills to gather what lawful and good sustenance they can find to sustain themselves and their families…the best of the believers will bear all these hardships, fulfill their obligations, combat satanic forces and rout them, struggle against their carnal souls and bar them from attaining what they desire and overpower them despite the forces that have been combined within them: sexual desire, desire for fine clothes, food, honor, power, and an inclination to boastfulness and conceit…And you, my angels, are free from all of that. Neither does sexual desire arouse you, nor does the desire for food drive you, nor does fear for your worldly or spiritual well-being enter your hearts, nor will Satan be engaged in misguiding you, for you shall be protected from him. O my angels! Any of these humans who obeys me and guards his religion against these pitfalls and challenges has thereby borne for the sake of his love for me what you have not borne and has earned in proximity to me what you have not earned. For this reason, I hereby order you all to prostrate before Adam.[64]

Adam turned toward the vast assembly of angels. In unison, they all fell prostrate before him.[65] It was an act done in obeisance to God and in honor of his vicegerent[66] who was to be invested with authority over all God’s creation. Through their prostration, they also honored the prophets and imams who would be born of Adam’s progeny.[67] They placed their foreheads upon the earth to further ennoble this creature made of earth.[68] Since God himself had ordered them to prostrate to Adam, they knew they were worshiping, not him to whom they prostrated, but him who had commanded them to prostrate.[69]

Iblīs Rebels

There was only one individual from the ranks of the angels who failed to prostrate to Adam. It was Iblīs, the jinn.[70] God had created him, as he had created all the jinn, out of fire[71] so that he would have the opportunity to worship his creator in his oneness.[72] And Iblīs had fulfilled the true purpose of his creation with exceptional diligence for thousands of years.[73] However, the pangs of jealousy that had gnawed at his soul before, when he gazed on this human’s lifeless form, now flared up within him.[74] He was certain he was superior to Adam, and he was certain God had made a terrible mistake. He flatly refused to prostrate and acted arrogantly and, thus, showed that, deep in his heart, he had always been among the unbelievers.[75] Thus, arrogance became the first sin ever committed.[76]

God addressed Iblīs demanding, “O Iblīs! What is the matter with you that you are not among those who prostrated?[77] What prevented you from prostrating when I commanded you to do so[78] before this creature whom I have created with my own two hands? Were you acting arrogantly just this once, or were you always from among the arrogant?”[79]

Iblīs replied, “It is not fitting for me to prostrate before a human being whom you have created from dry, resonant clay fashioned from dark foul-smelling clay. I am better than he. You created me from fire, and you created him from clay.” He believed that God had issued an irrational command. He knew God had created him out of fire and Adam out of clay, and it was obvious that fire was more luminous than clay. Since he was created from something more luminous than Adam was, he concluded that he was better than Adam. Furthermore, he decided that it was senseless, even wrong, for God to order him to prostrate before Adam since one who is superior must never prostrate before an inferior.

Iblīs made several key mistakes in his reasoning. He knew that Adam was made of clay, but he did not know the full potential of clay. He did not know that clay was as precious as a gem because it had the potential to hold divine knowledge and wisdom when combined with the human soul. Iblīs could see only the material dullness of the clay, so he was oblivious that, from a spiritual perspective, it was more brilliant than fire. Neither did he know what else Adam was made of. He did not know that God had combined in Adam four other major elements: light, fire, air, and water. Light gave him intellect and understanding. Fire allowed his body to digest food and drink. Air fed the flames of the fire and sustained his life functions. Water kept the fire in check and prevented it from drying his body and overheating it.

If it had been only ignorance, God might have overlooked it. The angels had also been ignorant of these aspects of Adam. But they had not been arrogant. They had asked God, but Iblīs had defied him.

Iblīs attempted to assuage God by saying, “By your glory, if you excuse me from prostrating before Adam, I shall worship you with devotion unmatched by any of your creatures.”

God replied flatly, “I have no need for your worship. I wish but to be worshiped as I want, not as you want.” Then God ordered him, “Get down from here, for it is not appropriate that you act arrogantly herein. So get out! You are hereby among the abased. Get out of this place, for you are hereby outcast, and you are hereby damned until the Day of Judgment.”

 

[23] Qurʾān 3:59

[24] It is possible that this conversation between God and the earth is symbolic. However, it is perfectly plausible that a thing we consider inanimate actually has a level of consciousness that we cannot comprehend. Qurʾān 17:44 speaks of such a consciousness.

[25] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121 tr. 55

[26] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121 tr. 55

[27] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 113 tr. 34

[28] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 122 tr. 56

[29] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 101 tr. 6 and 7

[30] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121 tr. 55

[31] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121 tr. 55

[32] Qurʾān 15:26-29

[33] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 122 tr. 56 and Qurʾān 23:12

[34] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121 tr. 55

[35] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 122 tr. 56 and Qurʾān 37:11

[36] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121 tr. 55

[37] The Arabic word masnūn has inspired great debate among linguists and scholars throughout Islamic history. Part of the debate centers around the meaning of the word. The other part centers around its role in verses 15:26-28 of the Qurʾān. There are four meanings for the word masnūn that are appropriate to the context of these verses:

  • something that is poured
  • something that is polished
  • something that is fashioned
  • clay that is made into pottery

All the commentaries to which I referred assumed masnūn to be an adjective of ḥamaʾ, a dark foul-smelling clay. The only meaning that fits in this context is for masnūn to refer to “something that is poured.” It seems that Imam ʿAlī used the word in this meaning when he described the stages by which God created Adam. He said, “Then God gathered dust from rocky terrain and from soft terrain, from sweet earth and salty earth, which he poured into water until it became homogenous” (Nahj al-balāghah sermon 1). Most likely, he means that God poured the dust into water and then strained it to remove larger pieces and make it homogeneous (see Minhāj al-barāʿah of al-Rāwandī). This meaning for masnūn fits well in the context of this sermon, however, it does not fit well at all in the context of the verses 15:26-28 of the Qurʾān, for we would have to stretch its meaning and assume that many things were left unstated. If we turn a blind eye to these difficulties, the meaning of the verse would be that God created Adam “from hollow, resonant clay that is made from dark foul-smelling clay that has been poured, strained, and purified.”

Because the previous interpretation is such a stretch, I believe that masnūn is an adjective, not for ḥamaʾ, but for ṣalsāl. Al-Samīn al-Ḥalabī mentions the possibility that masnūn is an adjective for ṣalsāl but rejects it saying that it is not permitted for an adjective that is a ẓarf to come before a true adjective. This is not a sound rule since we have the exact same sentence structure in 43:31 where the word ʿaẓīm is undeniably an adjective for rajul. Similarly, we have this structure at the end of 15:41. Thus, not only is this interpretation within the bounds of good Arabic grammar, it also makes good sense to say that the dry resonant clay is “something that is fashioned” as opposed to being an amorphous lump. Thus, the meaning of the verse 15:26 is, “We created the first human from dry resonant clay fashioned from dark foul-smelling clay.”

[38] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 122 tr. 56. In the Qurʾān, God mentions the stages of Adam’s creation in detail. He tells us in the broadest of terms that he created him out of al-arḍ or “earth” (11:61). More specifically, he tells us that he made him from turāb or “dust” (3:59) and māʾ or “water” (25:54). “Water” could be a reference to the semen from which all of Adam’s progeny are born, but it could also be a reference to the water God mixed with the dust to create Adam. The combination of dust and water first made ḥamaʾ, a “dark foul-smelling clay” (15:26), presumably mixed with other debris as is normal in naturally occurring clay. As Imam ʿAlī tells us in the first sermon of Nahj al-balāghah, God strained this foul-smelling mixture until it became sulālah min ṭīn or “a homogeneous extract of clay” (23:12). This refined ṭīn or “clay” (32:7) was then processed through kneading and drying until it became ṭīn lāzib or “sticky clay” (37:11). Then it was ready to be masnūn or “fashioned” (15:26) into the human form. It was allowed to dry until it hardened into ṣalṣāl or “hollow, resonant clay” (15:26). Despite its mean origin, it dried into ṣālṣāl ka al-fakhkhār or “hollow, resonant clay similar to fired pottery” (55:14). At this point God “blew” the spirit of life into the lifeless form and thereby created the first living human (15:29 and 38:72).

[39] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 12 p. 3 tr. 4

[40] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121 tr. 55. In the Book of Genesis we read, “Then God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.’ So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them” (1:26-27). The phrase “So God created man in his own image” is highly problematic since God is immaterial and is similar to nothing from his creation (see Qurʾān 42:11). The Qurʾān and the infallible guides have waged an age-old battle against the Mushabbihah, those who claim God has a form. Interestingly, this same phrase from the Bible has been transmitted in several traditions; however, the context of the traditions makes it clear that they are not telling us that “God created Adam in his own image.”

  • In one tradition it is related that Prophet Muḥammad passed by a Medinan man who was hitting one of his slaves in the face and saying, “May God make your face, and the face of anyone whom you resemble, ugly.” The Prophet chided this man and told him “This is an awful thing you have said, for God created Adam in his (i.e., your slave’s) image” (Tanzīh al-anbiyāʾ 127). Adam, as the father of all human beings, resembles all human beings in some way. By asking God to deform the face of anyone whom his slave resembles, he is praying for damnation to befall the slave’s forefather, Adam, whom God created in his (i.e., the slave’s) image.
  • In another tradition we read, “God created Adam in the image that he had ordained for him in the Protected Tablet)” (Biḥār al-anwār 11 p. 121 tr. 55). Sayyid ibn Ṭāwūs has commented on this tradition saying, “Some Muslims have omitted part of this sentence and have narrated, ‘God created Adam in his own image,’ and have thus fallen prey to a belief that God has a form” (Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121). It is not far-fetched to suppose the statement in the Bible suffered a similar fate at the hands of those Jews and Christians who, like these Muslims, abandoned God’s guidance.

[41] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 121 tr. 55

[42] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 122 tr. 56

[43] Qurʾān 15:26-29 and 55:14

[44] Qurʾān 55:14

[45] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 109 tr. 22

[46] Qurʾān 18:50

[47] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 119 tr. 51 and Nahj al-balāghah sermon 192

[48] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 119 tr. 53

[49] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 106 tr. 11

[50] Qurʾān 15:28 and 38:72

[51] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 109 tr. 21

[52] Qurʾān 3:59

[53] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 108 tr. 16

[54] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 100 tr. 3 and 4 and p. 101 tr. 6

[55] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 106 tr. 11 and p. 121 tr. 55

[56] Qurʾān 2:31

[57] Some have suggested that God simply taught Adam the words that refer to each of his creatures. Words were certainly not the subject of this first lesson for the following reasons:

  • Words are simply conventions for ease of communication that change with time while what Adam was taught was something real and meaningful.
  • If it were words that Adam learned, the angels would have become as knowledgeable as he as soon as he informed them of the words for everything. Rather, even after he told them what he knew, they remained ignorant of his knowledge.
  • If God simply taught Adam words, the angels could have objected saying, “God, if you had taught us these words instead of Adam, then we could have become qualified to be your vicegerents instead of him.”

[58] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 137 tr. 1

[59] Qurʾān 2:31

[60] Qurʾān 2:32

[61] Qurʾān 2:33

[62] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 137 tr. 1

[63] Presumably, God refers here to a figure named Satan to foreshadow Iblīs’ impending rebellion and mischief for which he is later banished and given the title shayṭān or satan. It is interesting and appropriate that the Qurʾān always refers to Satan before he is outcast from the skies by his name, “Iblīs,” and after he is outcast, by the desogatory “al-Shayṭān.” I have conformed to this usage in my writing as well. It is also important to note that in several traditions we are told that Iblīs’ name is derived from the word iblās which means hopelessness because “he lost all hope in receiving God’s mercy” (Biḥār al-anwār vol. 46 p. 351 tr. 5). These traditions are problematic since, as I have just noted, Iblīs is the proper name he carried when he was a righteous servant of God. He only had reason to lose hope in God’s mercy after his act of defiance at which point the Qurʾān refers to him, not by his given name, Iblīs, but by the epithet, al-Shayṭān.

[64] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 137 tr. 1

[65] Qurʾān 2:34 and 7:11 and 15:30 and 38:73

[66] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 139 tr. 4

[67] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 140 tr. 6

[68] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 139 tr. 3

[69] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 138 tr. 2

[70] Qurʾān 2:34 and 7:11 and 15:30 and 38:73

[71] Qurʾān 15:27

[72] Qurʾān 51:56; Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 138 tr. 2

[73] Nahj al-balāghah sermon 192

[74] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 141 tr. 7

[75] Qurʾān 2:34 and 38:74

[76] Biḥār al-anwār vol. 11 p. 141 tr. 7

[77] Qurʾān 15:32

[78] Qurʾān 7:12

[79] Qurʾān 38:75

Shīʿī Institutions of North America: An American Ḥawzah – An Interview with Shaykh Amir Mukhtar Faezi

By
Shaan Rizvi
-
Shaan Rizvi 

The Shīʿī community in North America, from its earliest years, founded a number of organizations to provide institutional support for the community’s array of needs and goals. Many of the earliest founded institutions continue to exist today, though in an evolved form. This is the first in an installment of Occasional Papers that will explore the roots and developments of some of the community’s important institutions and projects through the eyes of the some of their prominent participants. In this issue, we begin the series with the ḥawzah in Medina, NY, as remembered by its head from 1988-1997, Shaykh Amir Mukhtar Faezi.

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By the grace and blessings of Allah (swt), on September 1, 2014, during a formal ceremony at the Baitul Ilm masjid, the Chicago Shīʿī community inaugurated the Ahl al-Bayt Islamic Seminary and welcomed its first batch of incoming students.

The Seminary’s classes are currently taught by three esteemed faculty members and scholars of the Ḥawzah ʿIlmiyyah of Qūm: Shaykh Amir Mukhtar Faezi, Sayyid Sulayman Hassan and Shaykh Rizwan Arastu. The inaugural class consists of nine students, including five traditional-track and four alternative-track students. In the current semester, the students are studying Ṣarf (Arabic morphology), Naḥw (Arabic grammar), Fiqh, Tajwīd, and Kalām. Further, the Seminary’s curriculum is accredited by, and largely mirrors, the curriculum and texts taught in the Ḥawzah ʿIlmiyyah of Qūm.

During the week, the students begin their day with Fajr prayers in congregation. Thereafter, students partake in three hours of classes, with a short break in between each. After classes, students generally return home or take a short break, and reconvene later in the day at the masjid for mubaḥathah—a tradition of the ḥawzah in which students take turns presenting course material and quizzing each other as a means of reinforcing their learning.

Unbeknownst to many, the idea of opening a ḥawzah in North America is not an entirely novel project for the Shīʿī community. Rather, it is a project with a ten-year pedigree and one that has been planned for and conceived of for much longer. In the mid-1980s, a group of committed believers established a ḥawzah by the name of Jamīʿat Walī al-ʿAṣr, in Medina, New York, a small town of about 6,000 people located halfway between Rochester and Buffalo. Although the ḥawzah did not last in that location long-term, some of the most prominent ʿulamaʾ of the Shīʿī community today, including but not limited to Shaykh Ali Abdur-Rasheed, Shaykh Usama Abdulghani, Shaykh Muhammad Ali Baig, and Shaykh Jaʿfar Muhibullah, are graduates of Jamīʿat Walī al-ʿAṣr.

Earlier this year, al-Sidrah sat down with the Shaykh Amir Mukhtar Faezi—Chairman of the Ahl al-Bayt Islamic Seminary and one of the founders of Jamīʿat Walī al-ʿAṣr—to discuss the history of the ḥawzah in Medina, as well as the lessons he gleaned from the experience and hopes to apply in the new Ahl al Bayt Islamic Seminary.

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Transcript (lightly edited for clarity and content)

Q: Why did you decide building a ḥawzah in North America was important? What led up to that decision, and when did that happen?

A: It was [in the] mid-1980s when the Shīʿah community started realizing that it needs homegrown religious leaders and religious scholars, because the community’s activities were growing and there were not a sufficient number of scholars available to meet those activities. The community was inviting scholars from overseas. These scholars, when they would come, had language and cultural barriers, and their outlook toward American society was different from what was in the minds of community organizers. Our community leaders understood that if we want to move forward, we need local leaders who know the local needs and local culture, who can lead our children to become proud Muslims, and at the same time, productive and positive Americans. And this would happen only if we have homegrown scholars. Because the message received by overseas scholars was kind of putting people off from getting involved in any local community [affairs]. Their message was “No” to almost everything; they only [instructed] people to come and pray and do religious rituals, and they had little else to offer the community. The community was looking for direction on how they should they lead their lives, what they and their children should do, etc. So that was the point at which the community realized it needs leaders who are local and can understand the local issues and offer direction.

As a coincidence, at the same time, a senior ʿālim from Pakistan, who was a very missionary ʿālim and the head of the Ḥawzah ʿIlmiyyah of Pakistan, Sayyid Safdar Hussain Najafi, realized that our community members [in Pakistan] were migrating to Western countries; and if they didn’t have local scholars, then it would be difficult for them to keep their future generations in the proper Islamic tradition. So the late Sayyid Safdar Hussain Najafi started this effort of establishing at least one ḥawzah in England. He started that in early 1980s and for five or six years he put in effort, but his efforts were not very fruitful. While in England, he met with a zākir by the name of Sayyid Jaan Ali Kazmi. Sayyid Kazmi told Sayyid Safdar, “I know a group of Shīʿah community members in the Buffalo area who have the facility and willingness to do something, but they really don’t know what to do. So if you go and talk to them, maybe they will be happy to do this project, since you’re not finding anything [productive] in England.” Sayyid Safdar went ahead and applied for the visa and came on his own initiative to Medina, New York, where he met the father of Sayyid Sulayman Hassan, Dr. Sayyid Sirajul Hasan Abidi, who was the President of the Islamic Center of Medina at the time. Through Dr. Abidi, he met other community leaders. Sayyid Safdar gave them the idea that since you have a building, funds, resources, etc., it will be good if you establish a ḥawzah here and train local scholars, since it is difficult for scholars back home to obtain a visa and come here; and in addition there is the problem of language and culture, so if you have local scholars it will be more helpful for your future generations. The idea kind of took root in the minds of these people. It was 1986 when the decision was made to have a ḥawzah in Medina. It took one year to begin. The first classes of this ḥawzah were started in 1987. The first student of the full-time ḥawzah was an African-American by the name of Ali Abdur-Rasheed. He was a convert from a Christian family in Buffalo. He was lead to the Shīʿī path by the Iranian students studying at the University of Buffalo about 2-3 years before joining the ḥawzah. These were the after-effects of the Islamic revolution, where, at university campuses, those curious young minds who were exploring the religion of Islam, some of them got interested in Shīʿī Islam.

Ali Abdur-Rasheed was the first full time student, and then there were some high school students who came from practicing families in New York, New Jersey, Washington, upstate New York, etc. They were brought in to Medina with the understanding that they would go to Medina Public High School, and in [the] evenings they would get religious classes. So, they would do both things together. Their parents felt that if their kids leave these big cities and the social environment and pressures there—if they came instead to Medina, which is a village with only a population of 6,000—the environment would be much better, simpler and overall a natural and good environment away from all those social evils [of big cities]. The idea was that they would get their religious classes in the evenings so that when they graduated from high school, they would have a good background in religious studies, and later on, wherever they go to college or university, they would become future community leaders. Even if they became accountants or doctors, they would serve communities and provide religious guidance and leadership. Two in one. People would work and provide religious services on an honorary basis to the community. That was the idea when this started.

Q: What is your part in this story? How did Medina, NY develop?

A: The inspiration for the ḥawzah in Medina, Sayyid Safdar Hussain Najafi, was my teacher, and when he came back to Iran, I was a senior student in Qūm. He told me that the time had come when I should leave, go to America, and be the head of this ḥawzah. He told me this in 1986, but I had to wind up my studies. I asked him for one year—give me one year and then I’ll go. So, I thought I should at least get my basics. I was preparing myself for Pakistan. I had no idea I’d end up going to America. So let me at least take some basic courses in English and learn about American society. Also, I had just gotten engaged, and I had to marry, so I asked him to let me complete this process. He granted me one year. In 1988, I applied for the visa in Pakistan and I was granted the visa. It was October 1, 1988, when I came to Medina. It was the month of Ṣafar, and almost a day or two before Arbaʿīn. In this one year, when I was getting ready, four scholars came one after the other [to Medina] to serve, and on average, they stayed for 3-4 months. It was so difficult living in a very small village with very basic facilities, working with American kids. Scholars were not used to working with this age group with this background, and also so far away from any social life.

When I came, I realized within a few weeks, that actually this system of “two in one” was not going to work. So my suggestion was that if you want to have these high schoolers, if you want them to have religious training, we can have them. But we cannot hope that these people can be religious leaders of our communities. I said we need full time students who are done with high school at least. So we started looking for the full-time students. After Ali Abdur-Rasheed, the next student was one half-native, half-white brother named Yusuf Ahmad from Indiana. He was our second student, who got his bachelors from Indiana State University. He had taken some Arabic during university and converted during college. He had married a woman from Malaysia. He came as a Shīʿī Muslim. Now that we had these two students, we started actively looking for full-time students with at least a high-school diploma, preferably with some college background. We started contacting community leaders by phone and mail all over North America, and started traveling to different conferences, etc. At that time, there were 2-3 conferences taking place throughout the year. There was MSA-PSG, and then Imam-e-Zamana Foundation used to hold an annual conference in Washington DC. The Shīʿī youth and activists came to these conferences, and we would set up booths at these conferences.

Additionally, the impact of the Islamic revolution in Iran on youth in this part of the world, especially in religious families, created a lot of interest in going to ḥawzah and pursuing Islamic studies. There were many people, with different ages and backgrounds, who were very interested in going to ḥawzah in Iran and learning and studying and serving Islam and spreading a similar message everywhere. At that time, the Ḥawzah ʿIlmiyyah of Qūm was not ready to accept students from this part of the world, so these individuals were left with no options. These students tried to approach their local ʿulamaʾ in the major cities and ask if they would provide classes. Some of them were able to get some informal kinds of classes in their own cities. But since it was not formal, and none of these ʿulamaʾ were able to offer the full package of Islamic studies in a traditional way, it did not go a long way. People were still waiting for an opportunity where they could go to a formal ḥawzah and study there full-time. So when word came out that there was a ḥawzah in Medina which was accepting students, all those who were waiting for this opportunity jumped and headed toward Medina. There were a large number of African-American families who came. It was actually one large group, which had migrated from North America to Central America and had been living in Central America for some time, largely in St. Croix. They had slowly started moving back to North America. They had also become Shīʿahs. If they were not fully Shīʿah, they were impressed by the Shīʿī tradition and were interested in knowing it more and were open to exploring it and looking into it.

The first individual who came from that group was Idris Samawi Hamid, when he did his Bachelors from, I believe, from Syracuse University. Idris had converted formally to the Shīʿī tradition in the University. He was very close to Irani, Lebanese, Iraqi students. He came to Medina, and through him the group got the news that there is a ḥawzah. The next family that came and brought many people was Marhūm Dr. Karim Abdulghani, the father of Shaykh Usama Abdulghani. Dr. Karim, as a physician, was a prominent member of that group, very intelligent and sincere. He came with his family, purchased a home in Medina, and himself became a student and brought all his family members to the ḥawzah as students. His wife, sons, daughters, himself — everyone became students. Then he had three or four brothers-in-law, and their relatives. So this is how their whole group heard about it and started coming in. In addition to them, we got students from North Carolina, the first of whom was Jaʿfar Muhibullah, who came as a fresh high school graduate. Through Jaʿfar Muhibullah, some other students came from North Carolina.

Similarly, news reached California and we got a number of students from the Los Angeles convert community who were all African-Americans. And we got a few from Georgia. Down the road, we got some Caucasian students as well. We had a student from Oregon, named Abdul Noor, who came from Oregon, and he married an African-American girl from the local Shīʿah Muslim community. We also had a few African-American students from Maryland. We got other students as well—Caucasians, Iranians, Afghanis, Lebanese, people from the East African Khoja community, and some Indians and Pakistanis. We started with one student, and within a few years we had 30-plus students. It was beyond our ability to manage because we used to provide them a place to live and basic expenses through a stipend.

Q: So how did the community in Medina deal with absorbing these individuals? Was there interaction? I’m envisioning racial and class tension.

A: The local community in Medina, our Shīʿah community, was very diverse to begin with. Our center was in Medina, but our community included people from a 40-50 mile radius, including Niagara Falls, Buffalo, Rochester, and even up to Utica in upstate New York. We had Iraqis, Iranians, Indians, Pakistanis, East Africans. Normally, when a community is small, it accepts diversity and the people are welcoming. Yes, some people had a concern in the beginning because the large number of African-Americans was a totally different kind of phenomenon. But, I, as a leader of the community, played a very active role in making it acceptable to the community, and told them that our model should be the community of the Prophet. I didn’t let people take their developed communities of Iraq, India, or Pakistan as a model. I was successfully able to take the model of that developing community of the Prophet [to] Medina [, NY]. And that is why everyone had acceptance and tolerance. It worked well. And our students, those who remained there with us, were also trained in diverse cultures, they were accepting of change, they were well-behaved, responsible, and community and family-oriented. So we never had any issues or problems. Actually many of our converts were better faith-wise, practice-wise and community-wise than those people who had been Muslim for generations. Their level of taqwa, piety, ḥijāb, integrity, and responsibility, were really very good.

Q: In the beginning you mentioned that Qūm was not able to absorb this Western student population. So did you have a relationship with Qūm, either formal or informal? And how did the African-American students who later went to Qūm transition?

A: Initially when we started the ḥawzah, it had no link with Qūm. But, a ḥawzah in [the] Shīʿī tradition cannot exist and continue without the blessings of the mother ḥawzahs in Qūm and Najaf. That is how the system is. You have to have some link and some deference and acceptance. So, soon I realized that we needed to develop that link. So I started writing to Grand Ayatullahs, Sayyid Al-Khuʿī in Najaf, and Sayyid Gulpāygānī in Qūm. I explained that we have started this work in this part of the world, and we needed their blessings. But, since it was a ḥawzah in America under those circumstances, Qūm and Najaf were very cautious and reserved in giving their blessings, because they were unsure who was behind the project. So there was no cordial response or formal link for the first few years, between 1989 and 1991.

After three years of constantly writing letters, and using some help from our senior ʿulamaʾ in Pakistan, we were able to at least open [some lines of communication] and [convince them] that it was a genuine effort. When time came for the first batch [of students to graduate], we started communicating with the Ḥawzah ʿIlmiyyah of Qūm, [saying] that since we were not able to provide a very high quality and comprehensive education for our students due to the lack of resources, staff, and facilities, these students will be lost if they do not get into Qūm and perfect their studies and improve their weak areas. Knowledge is very dangerous when you don’t have it properly and fully. A half ʿālim is a dangerous thing. So, we used this as an argument and convinced the scholars in Qūm that they should consider giving admission to our students. So al-ḥamdu lillāh that worked and Ḥawzah ʿIlmiyyah Qūm agreed to accept our students.

The first batch that went to Qūm for their studies was Ali Abdur-Rasheed, Munawwar Hasan Ali, Jaʿfar Muhibullah, and Usama Abdulghani. I believe it was 1994 when they went to study there. Then we sent some sisters to study there in Jāmiʿat al-Zahrāʾ. The Ḥawzah ʿIlmiyyah of Qūm, after meeting our students and talking to them, became convinced that these people are sincere in their studies and have done good work. They may not be very strong in some academic areas, but they are very strong in their sincerity, character, piety and taqwā. They are really good students. And that is why from the very beginning, there is a very high appreciation and respect for our students. Ḥawzah ʿIlmiyyah Qūm always gives these students selected priority. They know that these are special students.

Q: So there was never a full sponsorship, but there was a pipeline system, correct?

A: Yes. And we were the one who applied for [the students’] visas through our ḥawzah. We purchased their air-fare [with] the help of our sister communities in North America. We rented the places over there for these students to live in. We gave them basic necessities to begin their lives over there. For some months, we provided a stipend for them to live over there until they got settled. This was all through the help of our local community and sister communities in North America.

Q: Just one or two more questions. Were you the only teacher in Medina, or were there others?

A: There were times when I was able to bring someone to help me. But no one was able to stay in Medina. Life was very difficult, you had to be a missionary to stay there. Because mainly, there was no social life for your family or children. If any ʿālim was ready to come, his wife and children were not ready to come. And no ʿālim would come without his family. The living conditions and benefits provided were not any incentive, and the work was very hard. Because you were doing ḥawzawī work of Najaf and Qūm with students in America who had no idea what they were doing. And the people in the community who were helping with the project, they were not deeply familiar with the ḥawzah, but they wanted to tell you what to do. There was a lot of pushing and pulling. People wanted to make it like Harvard or better than Harvard, even thought the budget of the janitors in Harvard was better than the budget of our entire ḥawzah.

The expectations of our ḥawzah were very high. People thought that after four years, a student from our ḥawzah should be better than one who had studied in Najaf or Qūm or India or Pakistan for 20 years. So every graduate should be reciting Qurʾān like Abd al-Bāsiṭ, and he should be an encyclopedia of Islamic knowledge, and he should be pious like Salmān al-Farsī, and he should be a very competent leader like Imām Khūmaynī, and he should be a speaker like Rashīd Turābī. Whereas our students came with no background at all, and had only one man teaching the entire group everything, so it was impossible. And that is why several ʿulamaʾ who came got frustrated and left within months. So I ended up just doing it by myself. And later on, some of my senior students were helping me. Ali Abdur-Rasheed, Muhammad Baig and some of the other fourth-year students used to help teaching the younger students.

Q: How did the financial situation work? You said you provided rent, stipend?

A: The major funding came from our local community in Medina, which included the communities in Rochester, Buffalo and the surrounding areas. So there were about 30-40 families, and many of them were physicians. And these were all senior established physicians, and they were making a good amount of donations every year, so most of our budget came from here. But since it was the first such project of the nation, we were receiving funds from Toronto, including NASIMCO (North American Shīʿah Ithna Asheri Muslim Communities Organization). That was another major supporter. Then there were individuals who believed in this project from all over the States. From almost every state, we had a few donors who used to send their khums. At that time, a donation of $2,000 was a big amount. There were about 20-30 individuals in the entire country who would send that kind of money. And NASIMCO would help a little more. Our budget was about $10,000-12,000 per month. We kept things basic and provided all the basic necessities. Salaries and stipends were very low, but people were happy and content. We had two big buildings. The places to reside in were mainly our own. So, for single students, we would give them rooms which they would share. And for married students, we’d give them an apartment, which were also our own. I never had a car for all those 10 years. I lived in Medina with my family and never owned a car. Everything was in walking distance. Many students also never owned a car. Life was very simple and basic.

Q: In the end, what happened? It closed up at some point, what were the reasons for that? Ultimately, what came of this enterprise for the convert community nationwide? Socially, what do you see this ḥawzah made an impact on and what do you foresee in the future in terms of what the new ḥawzah will be doing?

A: While we were operating the ḥawzah in Medina, though we were very small, we were known everywhere in the Shīʿī world. At least the ḥawzahs and the major Shīʿah organizations knew that there was something going on in Medina under the name of the ḥawzah. And whenever one of those people would come to this country, they would come and visit us. For example, the sons of Sayyid Khūʿī, when they came to visit and were establishing Al-Khoie Foundation in New York, they drove from New York City and came to visit us in Medina. The president of the World Foundation, when he came to visit the US, he came all the way to visit us. And the Presidents of African Federations of Khoja Jamaats came all the way and visited us in Medina while they were in the America. If any Iranian or Iraqi ʿulamaʾ came to America later on, they came to visit us. So we were a place a visited by leaders and scholars all over the world if they were in America, and even by the local leaders in America.

Everyone who visited had the same suggestion – a project like this should not be in a village of 6,000, it should be in one of the major cities. There, you can get the issue resolved of the social life of the teachers. If you want to expand, you need more teachers. But if you are in any major city, and there is a community and social life, teachers won’t mind coming there. Your pool [of resources] will also become bigger. Here, you are relying on 30-40 families as your major economic support, but if you go to a major city, you will have a bigger pool and more resources, and the exposure will be [greater] for students, who will see variety of Shīʿah activities, scholars, centers, etc. So that was the advice we got from everyone. We were convinced, but since we had started this [in Medina], we wanted to at least reach to a level such that we could take our successful model somewhere else. We decided we would continue for at least 10 years, and graduate two batches of students, and after that, then we would go to a major location. As 10 years were coming to an end, we started looking actively in North America for moving. The options were Toronto, Los Angeles, New York and Washington DC. And all of these locations had their merits, but we felt that Virginia/Washington area would make a better location. So we wanted to go there. We started making some arrangements, but there is an Iranian center there in Potomac, Maryland. The ʿālim there, Dr. Sayyid Hijazi, when he heard we were moving there, sent us the message that they were in the process of establishing a ḥawzah there. We felt that two ḥawzahs in once place would be too much, plus they had resources, and we didn’t have that kind of resources. So we cancelled that plan and looked into other major cities. I used to visit these cities every year during Muḥarram and Ṣafar, so I had some idea [about them]. Finally, I thought Chicago would be a better place for the ḥawzah. It is in the center of the country. It is a big city, but the activity of the Shīʿah community was not at the level of LA, NY or Toronto. It was a big and mature community, but the activity was not as much, [meaning] you could add something. So, this is why I selected Chicago.

I closed everything in Medina in 1997. I moved in January 1998 to Chicago, with the idea that I would establish a more formal ḥawzah based on all those experiences, which we learned in Medina, with proper facilities, where you have trained staff, sufficient teachers, funds and without interference of those who have no background in the project. However, we realized that before we go about a ḥawzah, we first need a center, our own masjid, our own base, our own following, our own support, and when we have that, then we could start a ḥawzah. And those things took almost 15-16 years to start, first from my own basement, and then in rental places, and then by buying a new building, and then by building a multipurpose building. But now we’re starting a new ḥawzah, and hopefully this ḥawzah will be formal and fully equipped with what we need.

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