Brother Tariq: The Doublespeak of Tariq Ramadan (28 page)

This way of considering citizenship as simply "a geographical accident,"
while defending Muslim identity as a besieged fortress that Western influences threaten to overwhelm, is no doubt due, in part, to his family history.
Just recall his claim to have had as many as six nationalities. In his eyes, a
passport is nothing but a scrap of paper, in no way comparable to the radical
Muslim identity that welded his family together. He himself described the
Geneva Islamic Center as an institution designed to furnish Muslims living
in Europe with the means to "preserve their identity and not enter into the
process of assimilation."'-' The little boy who preferred, after a soccer match,
to take a shower fully clothed in front ofhis team mates grew up within a clan
that regarded the outside world as a permanent threat. Thinking back on his
experience as a child brought up in exile, traumatized by the fear of being
assimilated, one can understand why, despite appearances, Ramadan promulgates a hermetically sealed Islam that transforms his disciples into eternal exiles within their own countries.

Haunted by the fears inherited from his father and marked by his
grandfather's obsessive concerns, Tariq Ramadan abhors the idea that
young Muslims living in the West should succumb to cultural influences
that might turn them away from fundamental Islamism. His grandfather
wanted to "close the dance halls," "control the theater and the cinema,"
"screen the plays to be staged and sent on tour," and "control the broadcasting of popular songs by a strict selection process." Astounding as it may seem, his grandson-a century later and in the very heart of Europe-takes
exactly the same position when he advocates "an alternative Islamic culture," designed as a substitute for non-Islamic influences.

To be sure, it is not in these terms that Ramadan will present things. As
usual, he takes pains to set up a framework in which his proposals will appear
to occupy the center ground. He begins, in particular, by reminding us that
"scholars" categorically forbid music, film, and photography in the name of
Islam. One might expect that a man who purports to be a reformer, helping
Muslims live in harmony with their times, would seize the occasion to criticize such extremists. Not at all. On the contrary, he asks European Muslims
to respect them and not treat them as "fundamentalists"!'6 In convincing
European Muslims that such a stance deserves respect, he succeeds in radicalizing them, so that he himself can then appear as a moderating influence,
arguing for the acceptance of certain cultural traits, so long as they are not
in opposition to Islamic moral standards. "There's no reason to reject everything that Victor Hugo has done," he is fond of repeating. With exemplary
open-mindedness, Tariq Ramadan even criticizes Islamic libraries that have
refused any work by the author of Les Miserables: "Everything of his has been
thrown out, but why? Because we approach this society in a state of fear. We
have lost confidence in our own principles. Islam has universal principles;
we should be more confident."17 Note that the acceptance of certain works
considered to be part of "Occidental culture" is not based on qualities such as
open-mindedness or tolerance, but is in the name ofthe overwhelming superiority of Islamic universal values-values that must be thoroughly digested
before one reads non-Islamic writings without running the risk of contamination. And provided, of course, that they have been pre-selected. "French
literature is one of the richest in the world. It is not to be rejected out of
hand," he explained. And then, by way of precautionary instructions for use,
he added: "One has to choose, to select; and the community must take part in
the process.""

This last sentence sums up the communitarian concept of culture that, in
spite of his denials, Ramadan defends. If selection is not an individual matter, but a collective obligation, then that means the community must orga nize the censorship of books, films, and music considered to be in conflict
with Islamic morality-which comes down to having the clan superintend
the cultural tastes and choices of youngsters born into Muslim families. Furthermore, rather than select, Ramadan would prefer to have an alternative
culture, designed in such a way that children would not seek distractions
elsewhere. A sort of cultural police disguised as an alternative culture. "We
must find a solution for handling this free time, this need for distraction,
by providing a noble Islamic culture ... so that we can progress together
towards a European Islamic culture."" For "noble," read "moral." But what
does a culture designed to be moral look like? Ramadan does not really go
into detail. He presses the community to develop "cartoons and games for
Islamic children," but he himself cites only countermodels, disapproving, for
instance, of a young child playing with a Power Ranger as a sign of "creeping
colonialism." But what exactly does an Islamic toy look like? Tariq Ramadan
is never clear on that. Except when he gives examples coming from countries
that offer, in his eyes, a model to be imitated in terms of "Islamic culture."
Then everything becomes clear. For women, he looks to Iran. For culture, he
looks to the Sudan of Hassan al-Tourabi, a leader whose "imaginative cultural
management" he admires.20

The worst aspect of this is not that Tariq Ramadan is a fundamentalist, but
that he seeks to force his fundamentalist vision of culture on the Muslim
community and even on society as a whole. His association, Presence Musulmane, advocates banning films, music and photography that conflict with
Islamic morals: "The contents of artistic works, as well as their form (be it
music, song, photography, cinema or drawing), must be in keeping with
Islamic ethics and not give rise to attitudes that run counter to them. '21 For
this reason, the association invites its members to pick and choose when it
comes to European artistic production, and, above all, to avoid "sub-cultures"
defined as follows: "Negative artistic productions that are immoral and indecent, mass evening gatherings, and dehumanizing concerts." Advice that
applies "to oneself, one's family and one's entourage."

Once again, we come across the first three points of al-Banna's program:
the individual, the family, and then society. Like al-Banna, Tariq Ramadan
encourages Muslims to call for censorship in the name of respect for Muslim
culture:

As members and citizens of Western societies, Muslim men and women must have
their say on art and culture. Muslims must question meanings, debate values, challenge institutions, and participate in the vast debate on human dignity and ethics.
You are not the only ones to be put off by the weird innovations of "post-modern'
artistic expression. With people of like faith and conscience, you must dare to say
no, to express your determined resistance, so that the freedom of speech, which is
our claim to dignity, does not become a pretext for the partisans of an "all-permissiveness" sunk in absurdities and tumult.22

Anti-discrimination associations have been organizing campaigns against
night-club bouncers harassing would-be customers because they look North
African. Tariq Ramadan has a better way of avoiding the ordeal of discrimination. He prohibits young Muslims from going to night clubs! The preacher
paints a particularly somber picture of Western societies, interested only in
free time and leisure activities-something he is never far from equating
with idleness and even decadence. The cult of the night symbolizes for him
the worst aspect of this "sub-culture": "You are living in a society in which
night-time provides a very special sort of entertainment .... The lights go
dim, there's more racket and you lose your head."" The phenomenon is of
concern to him. He reprimands the Muslims who go to discotheques: "I
know it's true: even some of you, forgetting who you are, do go there and join
in." In a tone ofvoice more paternal than ever, he warns them: it is out of the
question to go to every non-Muslim evening party just to be more integrated.
"We're not going to act like them, just to have them think we're part of the
same culture."2"

Ramadan not only warns against "the dark and shadowy distractions"
of smoke-filled night clubs. His strict standards also ban listening to music late at night, even Islamic music performed at the close of Muslim meetings!
He rejects anything and everything that could possibly make one "lose one's
head" before turning in. "Before going to bed," he expounded to young Muslims, "one doesn't lose one's head in Islam; one opens one's heart." And then
he went on to explain what he proposed instead. A schedule in which daily
prayer replaced night-time music. "Celebrations are not occasions to lose
track, but to achieve equanimity."

Tariq Ramadan makes no secret of his dislike of rap. "The philosophy of rap
is not the philosophy of the heart."25 There is, no doubt, much to be said on
the subject of the sexism of certain male rappers, but that is not what Ramadan has in mind. The fact that rap is often sexually explicit music, raw and
candid, undoubtedly shocks the sensitivity of a preacher who is such a bigot
and moralist. But that is not the only thing that bothers him. Just what is it
that he disapproves of in the music? First of all, the idolatry. True to a monotheistic religion built on its opposition to polytheism, he is disturbed to see
that Muslim men and women can so adore an idol that they ask for his autograph. "For it is a serious matter, it is not the sort of culture we should have."
But that is not all: the youngsters from the poor districts who find in rap a
form of expiation and expression are usually not those whom the Islamists
succeed in indoctrinating.

In his book Qu'Allah benisse la France [Let God Bless France], the rapper
Abd al-Malik recounts that he was, for many years, active in the Tabligh and
the UOIF, where he never missed any of Tariq Ramadaris lectures-but
that he then drifted away so as to enjoy greater liberty of faith and to create." In the beginning a fervent follower, this independently minded artist began to feel hemmed in by a conception of religion that was so closed
to cultural mixing. His discontent only intensified when he asked Tariq
Ramadan how to reconcile his faith with his love of rap. One winter's night
in 1998, he took advantage of the preacher's visit to Strasbourg to arrange
a meeting. The conversation was cordial but disappointing. The artist did
not understand when Tariq Ramadan urged him to restrict his creativity to Islamic influences: `All the trends, genres, and styles in vogue today had
their separate roots, but they fed into one another, all the more so in the
multicultural West. The recommendations of our mentor might have been
applicable in literature, in the choice of subject, even in vocal interpretation; but from a strictly musical point of view it made no sense." The artist
was taken aback when Tariq Ramadan ended by suggesting that his malaise
stemmed from the fact that his musical compositions were not in harmony
with Islam: "These words made my blood run cold. Was it possible that
he was right? And if so, was he insinuating that I should be attuned to his
interpretation of Islam? Even when I was on the bottom of the heap, I had
always jealously defended my freedom. I was asking for advice, not for an
ideological tutor." Abd al-Malik has continued to be a musician, but he has
come closer to a more spiritual Islam less given to lecturing-the Islam of
the Sufis.

Rap communicates the rage of those faced with discrimination and
forced to live in ghettoes, but the music transforms this rage into a form of
culture. Ramadan wants to transform this rage into morality. He has nothing
against music if it serves to transmit his message. On this score, Ramadan
admits that "music is a language that can't be overlooked." The only singers
that find favor in his eyes are those who devote their music to the service of
religion and propagation of the faith, like Cat Stevens, now Yusuf Islam. But
even in this case, it is not sufficient to make music and "add a touch of Islam."
He wants songs that are entirely Islamic.

Fundamentalists never admit that they detest the liberty of thought inherent in artistic creation. They simply say that they want art to respect religion.
Which means either reducing it to a tool of propaganda or adopting censorship. That is exactly what the American fundamentalists do when they campaign with cries of "blasphemy" against any film that they cannot suppress,
such as Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ-the better to approve films
that serve their propaganda objectives, such as Mel Gibsoris The Passion ofthe
Christ. Hani Ramadan adopts the same approach. He condemns, as symptomatic of "the decline of the West," films which "under the guise of eroti cism and art" display sexual acts on the big screen, but stipulates: "That does
not mean that Islam rejects the seventh art. On the contrary, cinema and theater have considerable cultural qualities, so long as these genres serve an
ideal that protects moral values and human dignity."27 We have seen how this
statement is interpreted by Tariq Ramadan. He would, no doubt, approve of
a play glorifying the Prophet that had been produced with Qaradawi's "seal of
approval," but quite evidently not Voltaire's version.

As far as cinema is concerned, his favorite target-one that embodies the
very acme of cinematographic decadence-is Titanic. A film that Muslims
have not seen," he said ironically, and even with a certain touch of humor.
As good a way as any of getting across the idea that "true Muslims" should
not have gone to see this typically Hollywood melodrama. He warns against
any film that threatens to violate Islamic moral standards: "Make sure that,
because you're fond of the movies, you don't go to see something disgraceful, something immoral. "21 And what does he propose? Not forbidding, but
selecting: "Go to see things, but learn where the limits are .... Develop a culture of dignity and a sense of limits."29 This is another piece of advice that
comes strikingly close to al-Banna's program, with a dash of realism added.
In an Islamic country, such a conception of art would clearly result in the banning of any film or song that did not conform to Islamic morality-a policy
that would be indefensible in the West, where banning would serve only to
alienate non-Muslims, as well as young Muslims. Ramadan is aware of the
fact: "In a society where everything is permitted, if you forbid everything, you
are going to lose your children," he explained to parents. He then went on to
propose that the community organize itself in order to supervise and manage
its youngsters' free-time activities.3° He remembers the day his father authorized him to go and see Twelve Angry Men: "He said to me: that one you have
to see! ... I'll remember it all my life."31 Which only goes to show how exceptional such authorizations were.