Questions of identity have increasingly been placed under the microscope in recent times. This is not surprising given the importance of identity to one’s personality and self. How we identify ourselves plays a crucial role in the way we see the world, the ideas we hold, the sentiments we express and the actions we undertake. Yet the causation in this nexus is not definitive because it is the ideas we hold about life and the universe which forms the basis of our identity. Thus we have a two-way relationship, although invariably the importance of one’s identity cannot be stressed enough.
In recent times, the question of values and identity has been vigorously debated. Unfortunately, those taking part from the politicians and media have done us no favour in the proper treatment of the subject. Rather, they have only sloganeered, as they do best. They have carelessly thrown around terms, without explaining their meaning. All of this has not added anything beneficial to the debate; rather it has only furthered artificial divides between people and accentuated the toxic atmosphere that is the product of the politics of fear.
Notwithstanding the above, the discussion of identity has not been on purely academic grounds. It has rather been enveloped in a socio-political context. We saw that post 9/11 Muslims living in the West were increasingly questioned about their identity and loyalties. Are you Australian or Muslim? Are you an Australian Muslim, or a Muslim Australian? These were the question hurled around in a rather hapless manner.
Some argue that this discussion is entirely one of semantics, and that it does not matter. There is no difference between being Australian and being Muslim. The two are not mutually exclusive. The argument is surely understandable but it does seem to underplay the importance of one’s identity. It does this by equating two inequalities. Not inequalities of magnitude, but inequalities of precision and substance. This becomes clear when we assess to two descriptors separately.
We know what it means to be Muslim. A Muslim is someone who submits to God. He/she lives their life striving to fulfill the Will of God as manifested in the Qur’an and the Prophetic example. A Muslim prays five times a day, fasts in Ramadan, and has their overriding loyalty to none but God. He believes in One God who has no partners in His divinity, as well as in Prophethood of Jesus, Moses, Abraham and Muhammad and all the other Prophets, and in the life hereafter. A lot more can be said; the point would seem clear: the concept of a ‘Muslim’ is quite precise and well understood.
Yet when we come to assess being ‘Australian’ we cannot reach the same precision or clarity. What is it to be Australian? What makes one Australian? Does being Australian simply require us to have a barbeque every other weekend after having mowed the lawn? Does it require us to merely exhibit ‘mateship’ and to give others a ‘fair go’? Or to be fanatically interested in one or other of the football codes? If this were the case, there would be no debate for the reality is that these values have nothing uniquely Australian about them. It would be an insult of the highest order to the other peoples of the world for us to assume that somehow Australians have a monopoly on speaking the truth, being good, helpful, sporty, and amiably social. Are the British any less civil? The French? The Americans? Surely not.
But if it is not these things, then what defines being ‘Australian’? Does it have, as both sides of politics have asserted, more to do with ideological values such as secularism, parliamentary democracy, the Australian constitution and an overriding loyalty to Australia? Such seems more plausible but it does raise questions in the mind of the Muslim, given the Islamic rejection of ideas like secularism and overriding loyalties to nation-states.
Of course the matter is not peculiar to Australia or being Australian. It applies equally to any other nation-state, be it Britain, China or Pakistan. The underlying issue is the intellectual shallowness of nationalism. The whole concept of the nation-state is an insult to the human intellect, a point clear to those who know its ideological foundations and the historical context in which they were adopted and established.
As Muslims we appreciate that the important commonality of human beings is their humanity, not where they happened to be born or live. For Muslims, our Islam alone, in all its comprehensiveness and clarity, should define us and on the basis of us being Muslims, who follow the Sacred law, we should engage and contribute positively in society, with the highest standard of character, regardless of where we live.
The Muslims of Australia should not identify themselves as being Australian on two grounds: i) the vagueness and arbitrary nature of the concept makes it unfit for something as important as one’s identity, and ii) it’s ascription to certain unIslamic ideals such as secularism and nationalism. Equally, however, the Muslims of Pakistan or Saudi Arabia should not identify themselves as Pakistani or Saudi, for the same arguments hold equally true. As Muslims, we should rise to higher intellectual grounds by transcending both race and geography and serving as role models for the rest of humanity.
But the question must be asked: does our rejection of the ‘Australian’ descriptor makes us un-Australian? Un-Australian Muslims? Of course not! Being un-Australian is a more vague and politically-charged concept than being Australian. It deserves a more resounding rejection. Yet we except no favours from those who love to label and reduce the debate to merely being a means of political point-scoring or selling newspapers. The blamers will continue to blame, and the strangers will continue to be seen as strange. So give glad tidings to the strangers!