Islamophile

Yassir: You know, it's brave of you to be doing a show like this, given our political climate.
David: Right! Also, uh, we have ethnic quotas and our Jewish dude quit.
--“Little Mosque On The Prairie”

Fig.1 Allah bless & keep Morgan Freeman!

My first memory of Islam is Morgan Freeman.

I was eight or nine years old, sitting on the floor of the darkened living room as my family watched Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves on VHS. As I marveled at the epic story and the characters, I remember asking myself if I were a Christian, just like Robin Hood. When I assumed I was, I was very proud to share something with this charismatic do-gooder. I have since fallen in love with both Errol Flynn’s and Douglas Fairbanks’ portrayals of the legendary swashbuckler and Prince of Thieves makes me yearn for Renn Faire season every year.

For a very long time, the only real concept I had of a Muslim was Morgan Freeman’s character, Azeem: “the Painted Man” who accompanies Robin of Locksley back to England and has trouble finding quibla in the infamously overcast new climate. He is wise, mysterious, and sticks out like a Moorish thumb. His understanding of the world is as obviously different from the rest of the characters as his skin color, but people soon realize he’s not a “savage” and accept him because of his kindness and mental skill.

Fig.2 Morgan is God, after all

The deepest impression I got was from the scene in which a little girl timidly walks up to Azeem and asks him “Did God paint you?” He says yes, and she wonders why. Azeem smiles and replies, “Allah loves great diversity.”

Fast forward half a lifetime later, and my eyes grace Surah 49 “Al Hujurat,” verse 13 in the Qur’an:

O mankind! We created
You from a single
Of man and a female
And made you into
Nations and tribes, that
Ye may know each other

I immediately thought of Azeem when I read that. He really knows his stuff.

My second memory of Islam is 9/11. Unfortunately, for many people, 9/11 is their only memory of Islam. The smiling, freckled face of Morgan Freeman would never come to their minds.

I remember many college students getting agitated and jumping into a car late at night to steal an American flag off someone’s house to hang it high from the outside stairway railings of our dorm and yelling about “ragheads” and “camel jockeys.” The irony of stealing personal property to showboat their patriotism is totally lost on freshmen boys.

There were half a dozen of us dorm-dwellers cloistering ourselves in my room that Tuesday morning, eyes glued to the same tiny 13-inch TV I use to watch The X-Files and The Daily Show, all of us watching in confusion and sadness as neighbors called their relatives in New York City to make sure everyone was okay. Classes were canceled, of course, but the otherwise beautiful sunny day outside didn’t prevent us from envisioning the surreal image of another hijacked plane crashing into the Turlington Plaza or Ben Hill Griffin Stadium, with tens of thousands of students being burned alive.

I could only imagine how terrified the Muslim students must have been. They probably prayed that the hijackers weren’t Muslims. Many law-abiding American Muslims began to fear for their safety whenever they walked out the door.

They felt the same as every other American.

For many years, I had no idea that I had no idea. My Islamic education came slowly but lovingly.

Fig.3 Holmes & Watson of the desert

My last semester at UF, I developed a huge crush on Omar Sharif. It was Thanksgiving and I was home for the vacation. I spent that Sunday night in heaven: a long evening in the warm and Christmas tree-lit living room, watching our seasonal favorite Doctor Zhivago with the parents, glass of warm Baileys in hand. I nearly nodded off several times near hour three, and having heard Lara's Theme clinging to every tiny soundless niche of the film's soundtrack, it stuck in my head for the entirety of my dreams.

When I went back to school, TCM was re-running Doctor Zhivago, so I left that on in the background while I did homework and noticed that Lawrence of Arabia aired right after it. I thought, why not? I’ve always meant to see that one, might as well check out David Lean’s epic Panavision masterpiece on my trusty 13-inch TV-VCR combo. I cringe to think I committed such film screening blasphemy, but it was a good thing I watched anyway, because it launched my love of all things remotely Arabian.

I tracked down a copy of "Seven Pillars Of Wisdom" on Amazon and diligently read it while immersed in a motley mix of Persian/Egyptian bellydance tunes on my iPod. Nothing could beat the romance of T.E. Lawrence’s adventures in desert politics. His curiosity regarding Arabian religion and culture was enviably strong and I found myself just as intrigued by the customs of the “Moslems” as he was. I also learned an inordinate number of facts regarding dromedary gastral fuctions.

After the honeymoon period for that chapter of my intellectual stimulation, the camel love held on the longest. I still watch Omar Sharif movies every Thanksgiving, but it took another curly-haired chocolate-eyed infatuation to really fuel my interest in Islam.

To be continued...

Fig.4 I... LOVE... camels

Hollywood goes back to Arabia?

"The desert is an ocean in which no oar is dipped."
--Peter O'Toole as T.E. Lawrence in "Lawrence of Arabia" (1962)


Fig. 1 Peter O'Toole & Omar Sharif... be still my throbbing heart!

Just a few weeks ago, while seriously enjoying some frozen custard at Rita’s with my parents, we were discussing our favorite epic movies and biopics. We raved about how much we loved Kingdom of Heaven (the Director’s Cut, of course) and my all-time personal favorite, Lawrence of Arabia. We somehow landed on the absurd controversy of the Darwin biopic, Creation, which is currently having difficulty finding a distributor in the U.S., to the chagrin of intelligent Americans everywhere. Perhaps some people prefer the adventures of Alfred Wallace in Indonesia over Charles’ pedestrian Galapagos research? Perhaps I give some people too much credit.

 
Fig. 2 & 3 What do Americans have against Paul Bettany's career? Come on.

Intellectual embarrassment aside, immediately upon hitting this subject, I thought of other historical figures I’d love to see portrayed on the silver screen: Irving Thalberg, Einstein, Buster Keaton, Queen Hatshepsut, etc. But the first thing that came out of my mouth was: “Too bad we can’t portray the Prophet Muhammad because he had an absolutely riveting life story.”

My parents, being curious individuals, asked that I give them a summary. I tried my best to wrap it up in the fifteen minutes it took to drive home from the ice cream shop. I’ve read a dozen books on Islam and Middle East politics in the last three years, so fifteen minutes was easy to fill, but it did the subject little justice. It is a story better suited for books and, ideally, some cinema-oriented treatment.

This week, several of my usual Twitter news feeds lit up with commentary on the news that not one but two bona fide Hollywood biopics of the Prophet Muhammad are in the works. One is supposed to be a remake of The Message(1976), and the other will be backed by epic producer extraordinaire Barrie Osborne of Lord of the Rings/The Matrix fame. As a student of all religions, I am excited to hear such a development. As a student of Islam, I am cautiously optimistic.

Fig. 4 I can't wait to see who Andy Serkis will play. A CG camel, perhaps?

The restriction in Islamic culture of not portraying the Prophet is understandable, given the ancient Arab tendency to revere physical idols and imagery. This was the environment the Prophet was born into, and he had to find many ways to distinguish his revealed religion from the others surrounding him in Mecca at the time. He never claimed divinity, only prophecy, and didn’t want to be treated like a god. As a result, traditional Islamic art and architecture has favored expressing the beauty of God through intricate geometric designs and exquisite calligraphy often seen in mosques and textiles. The focus is on the written script of the Qur’an—the words of the Prophet—and grand physical expressions of the glory of God.

 
Fig. 6 Inside the Sheikh Lotf Allah mosque in Isfahan, Iran.


Fig. 7 Artisans decorating the kiswah covering for the holy Kaaba in Mecca

The filmmakers promise not to show the Prophet onscreen or even use his voice as a measure of respect toward the Islamic boundaries. I know from hours of Lord of the Rings Special Edition DVD extras that Barrie Osborne is a visionary guy, and a producer who respects the original material he uses to tell a story, so I’m inclined to trust his involvement in his biopic project. I’m also anticipating the novel tactics and plot devices they will have to conjure up in order to tackle this influential man’s story without ever actually affording themselves a single cameo appearance. Here’s hoping that a lot of research and respect goes into these film projects, and that the limitations provide the same creative inspiration to them as it has for Muslim artists throughout history.