On Redefining Our Politics Through the Spiritual Essence of Our Faith
With the Georgia runoff election merely a few days away, we had the wonderful opportunity to speak to Sahil Lauji, an interracial Ismaili from Georgia, studying Government and Islamic Studies at Harvard University.
By amplifying the diverse voices of the people within our own community, we hope to create much-needed critical dialogue and conversation.
If you live in Georgia and have yet to vote, Election Day is this Tuesday, January 5th.
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Can you talk to us about how you navigate the different identities you uphold? Do you find it challenging to balance these identities? How have they led you to the professional/personal perspectives that you have today?
As a Muslim with a mixed racial background, I grew up not feeling at home within the community. My father, an Ismaili Muslim, married my mother, an African-American Christian, and eventually had me as their only child. On Fridays, I would attend Jamatkhana, our place of prayer, with my father where I would feel like a zoo animal, as stares, whispering, and questioning of whether I was actually a member of my Muslim community would swirl around the room quicker than the smell of agarbatti (an incense stick).
This sense of ostracization would follow me to other community events. Community members would tell me that I must have entered the wrong building. At religious education classes, other children would call me kallu (a word used to refer to Black people in a derogatory way), and joke about Black stereotypes in front of me. In interactions with aunties and uncles, I was met with hesitant head nods, diverted eye contact, and occasionally, an unwillingness to even shake my hand. The list goes on and on. The anti-blackness and racism entrenched in our majority South Asian community stifled my involvement growing up.
Yet, I never gave up on my faith. In elementary school, I taught myself the meaning of Dua, or our prayer, in English and started researching the impactful work the Aga Khan Development Network performed across the world. I recognized that the way many members of the Ismaili Muslim community treated me was antithetical to the core values of our faith. Our spiritual and religious leader urges the community to practice the notion of pluralism — an appreciation and recognition that diversity enriches us — in our daily lives, and I believed that I could be a vessel in ensuring that manifested into life.
Beginning in high school, I embodied this notion of pluralism and took it upon myself to look past the constant prejudices and microaggressions I faced and deeply involved myself in the community. I attended Al-Ummah (a youth summer camp through the religious community), won the annual community-led 5k Partnership Walk race, and became Student Council President of the religious center I attended as a senior. Though uncomfortable at first, I was able to see the impact I had on the community in only a few years. While it is not the burden of those who are oppressed to constantly educate or comfort oppressors, I believe people who come from non-traditional and historically marginalized backgrounds bring perspectives and insights that are critical for our and other Muslim communities to combat racism and progress towards the true ethics of our faith.
Now, as a graduating senior at Harvard University, I channel these ethics, such as striving for a more just and equitable society, in my work as an undergraduate and the work I hope to pursue in the world. On one hand, I am passionate about national security and foreign policy because I recognize the power we have as Americans — militarily, diplomatically, and economically — shapes the future of global populations, especially in countries where many members of our community live. With this in mind, I founded the Harvard Undergraduate Foreign Policy Initiative (HUFPI) to center young people’s perspectives, especially those from traditionally underrepresented backgrounds, in foreign policy decision making. Our organization has presented policy recommendations to the US House Foreign Affairs Committee on tackling the Opioid Epidemic through reducing the production of fentanyl abroad and have given policy insights to the National Security Council on holding China accountable for violating the human rights of Uighur Muslims. I have experienced first-hand how young people, from diverse backgrounds, can steer the course of politics towards more readily considering issues of human rights and suffering.
On the other hand, my family’s history of facing injustice as African-Americans makes me dedicated to fighting for racial justice. My maternal great-grandmother, a sharecropper from Arkansas, was barred from books, bank accounts, and ballot boxes. Understanding her story and connecting it to the multigenerational ramifications of racial injustices faced by my relatives — such as mass incarceration and redlining — makes these issues deeply personal. I have spearheaded initiatives at Harvard and in the federal government aimed at making these privileged spaces more equitable for people from all racial and socioeconomic backgrounds.
This past summer, I was reminded by the race driven killing of Ahmaud Arbery in my own state, that one of my favorite hobbies- running- was not safe for people who look like me. With the death of George Floyd sparking domestic and global protests, I was inspired to help move the needle forward for racial justice during this time of public reckoning. I worked at the NAACP Legal Defense Fund to tackle the lack of institutional response to police brutality and racial inequality during such a critical moment. Although it was a jarring summer — as Black people were constantly inundated with violence and reminded that it could be afflicted upon us at any moment — I remained hopeful as the multigenerational and multiracial coalition of supporters for Black Lives Matter showed we can only truly make change when we’re united together.
Since the Black Lives Matter protests earlier this year, it feels like people have become comfortable again. The country remains divided on a variety of issues. How do we begin to heal while racism, sexism, homophobia, and other forms of discrimination remain widespread?
To truly combat that racism, sexism, homophobia, and other forms of discrimination that are all too prevalent in our community and many others, I believe we must first recognize that this failure is a deeply spiritual flaw. Coming from a faith that does not believe in the division between the zahiri (outer, exoteric) and the batini (inner, esoteric) dimensions of life, I believe me must first recognize that the notion of justice is spiritual in essence. The Qur’an makes it clear that Islam, or the submission to the Divine Will, was brought down to largely remind humankind to move past our ego-centric identities and strive for justice on a personal and societal basis. In particular, racial equality and the ultimate foundation of pluralism is explicitly mentioned in the Qur’an:
“O Humankind, verily we created you from male and female and made you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another. Indeed, the most honorable of you in the sight of God is the most pious. Verily, God is all-Knowing, all-Aware.” (Qur’an 49:13)
Thus, God tells us to consciously embrace our global diversity, especially the ones that challenge and make our own identities uncomfortable. This ultimately becomes a process of self-transformation that we must pursue on a daily basis. We must battle the “othering” that often becomes human nature through our cultural identities and tribalism. Personally, I have sought to rid myself of negative biases and to be kind to those who have discriminated against me by meditating on passages of religious guidance. For instance, Imam Sultan Muhammed Shah would often tell believers to look past the physical form of people and strive to see the spirit.
By taking the time to seriously contemplate that every human being — whether they are a woman, Black, LBGTQ+, poor, or disabled — has a Divine spirit within them, we can peel back the biases we all inevitably carry in the zahiri world and recognize in the batin, everyone is a spirit of love. In a time of deep polarization, with debated notions of truth, it will take all of us, individually, to transform ourselves on a spiritual level. At the same time, we must educate ourselves on injustices through the countless free resources available online and tackle the injustices we see in our own community. Whether it be an uncomfortable conversation with an aunty who makes comments about dark skin colors or explaining to a youth on why he or she should not use the n-word, we can all make small incremental changes within our own families and inevitably our larger Muslim ummah. At the same time, we must not become unyielding, pursuing personal validation, and remember that there was a time we did not have this knowledge ourselves. It is a challenging middle ground we must all navigate, and believe me, I know it is hard. However, if we look past the daily annoyances, stay patient in recognizing that change does not happen overnight, and most importantly to “constantly strive to see the Spirit ‘’, we can move one step closer to a truly equitable society.
Why do you think it’s important to get out the Ismaili Muslim vote in Georgia? Why does voting and representation in elected office matter to you?
While many fear monger phrases such as radical change, we must remember that our Prophets challenged the injustices of their time and altered their societies for the better. Jesus’ gospel was about lifting up the impoverished and challenging the spiritual and physical oppression the marginalized faced. Prophet Muhammed reshaped Arabian society to be more equitable by supporting the weak, helping the oppressed, and spreading peace wherever he went. These traditions of justice and social justice live with us today and show why we must be involved in the political processes that shape our society.
So, what can we immediately do to take action on this historical tradition of social justice? It’s one word: VOTE. As part of the larger Asian-American vote, the Muslim Vote is driving historical change in Georgia and will be fundamental to ensuring that progressive policies can be implemented. One side of the ticket aligns much closer to the values of pluralism and equality, whereas the other side seeks to divide and scaremonger. We must look past our material means — of wealth and identity — and VOTE upon the inner, spiritual essence of our faith.
