Generation jihad is here in Dhivehi Raaje as it is elsewhere and its subscribers are growing in numbers, recruited right in our homes, behind closed doors, via internet chat-rooms and forums and in secret meetings. Jihad is not, and never was, that beautiful and spiritual state of struggle for good that some people claim it to be. That has always been the excuse. Jihad, the word itself gained prominence through the menace of violence; never through the charity or humanitarian work of a person or organisations. One does not hear about the personal jihad of a Muslim man and his struggle helping victims of natural disaster. That is not jihad. It never was.

That is because the concept of organized violence has replaced what little spiritual essence the idea of jihad signified. To Muslims and others alike the word now conjures the image of destruction, anger, apathy and madness in the name of God and religion.

If the concept of jihad was a force for good (good as we know it) then religious organisations such as Adhaalath and the Salaf would advocate the jihad of social coherence, harmony, philanthropy and benevolence. They would actively find ways of putting food on the table of impoverished people in their community in addition to Muslims. They would educate them about integration and understanding. They would extend an open and caring arm to those they feel are diverting from being good, productive and contributing citizens.

One may argue that it is not in the interest of religious organisations to operate in the sphere of humanitarian work; that they exist to protect and further the message of Allah. To me this is a lousy excuse – the calling card of people whose self-interest is put before others’. God and religion command and demand the massive numbers of followers. How much effort would it take to make followers engage in activities beneficial for the society at large?

Instead, Islamic organisations are dedicated to the propagation of the concept of preparation for the Day of Judgment and the idea of the suffering Muslim ummah. Hour after hour of TV and radio programs, week after week of Friday sermons and sermons given in mosques and stadiums are about preparation for the afterlife. This is the very basis, the core fundamentals of violent jihad: putting the self before the society – paving one’s own road to heaven should the end of days arrive unannounced. These organisations lead the regiments of footsoldiers that then become easy pickings for terrorist organizations such as al-Qaeda.

For a person in a state of constant preparation for judgment day any short cuts soon become enticing. After all, what is the point of wasting days in waiting when one can commit to jihad and possibly fast-forward to martyrdom – as many have done?

Scholars of Islam would proclaim in public that violent jihad is un-Islamic. Well then, why waste time talking? Where is the good jihad? If building homes for the homeless is jihad then say it is so. If caring for orphaned children is a jihad then put that into the young Muslim minds. For everyone’s sake market the good jihad. Where are the videos of good jihad?

When people like sheikh Ilyas give sermons on the tired old subject of gaining entry into paradise and reiterating the supposed inferiority of women, and spend thousands on setup and make as much on after-sales, one must surely feel suspicious. When Jamiyatul Salaf flexes its holy muscles at homosexuals one must shake one’s head in disbelief and ask, what is the point of all this? When they target lovers celebrating a lovers day one must surely be worried about their true intent because the conclusion and the point they drive home every time is that life is unimportant. That it is a mere stage on which we are waiting in transit to the Day of Judgment. In so doing, they deceivingly plant the dangerous seed of jihad.

I am not advocating lawlessness or indulgence in acts that would be considered immoral. I know belief in the afterlife is important to Muslims. But it should not be reason to abandon life as we know it or harbor hatred towards those who think otherwise or remove one’s self from society and disturb social harmony.

Generation jihad is readying. It is preparing as you read this – radicalizing more and more in our society. And sowing the seeds of violent jihad are those socially irresponsible, economically unsound and spiritually empty organisations such as Adhaalathu and Salaf. They pretend to do good and they are good at it. They have shut down all venues of debate and critique and opinion. And forget about the government; it is still in a daze from the time it was in bed with Adhaalathu a year ago. They are hopeless.

But as parents and guardians it is our duty to be vigilant and keep our eyes open to signs of radicalization within our family members. We must understand that rejecting radicalism is not rejecting Islam.

We must know that jihad, in theory and in practice, is like a walking-cane with the concealed razor-sharp blade inside we often see in movies. In the hands of the young Muslim man, it can kill as well as it can help the needy. How they use it depends on our understanding of the seriousness of the matter at hand and our willingness to face it.
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The BBC documentary “Generation Jihad”, presented by Peter Taylor, must be broadcast on public TV in Dhivehi Raaje. I am linking it here for your viewing.

So it wasn’t long before classmates caught up with the expletives side of Dhivehi. The similarities between Sinhalese and Dhivehi make it easy for the Sinhalese and Dhivehin to learn each other’s languages in a short time. While school colleagues mastered the barrage of the strange Dhivehi swear words (like fadaboe), you can find housemaids who have mastered the language to an astounding level. The same goes for some Dhivehin who show exemplary fluency when conversing Sinhalese.

It is thought that Dhivehi and Sinhalese have a common ancestral vernacular. That would certainly explain the similarities. There is however one joke that the Sinhalese can laugh about and it has to do with a particular Dhivehi word. It could be the most cruel joke ever pulled in our long history together as neighbours and linguistic siblings.

In the most confounding and unfortunate turn of linguistic mix-ups, the Dhivehi word used in agreement or acknowledgement – especially when speaking to royalty, people of higher authority or parents – specifically means the male genitals in Sinhalese.

That Dhivehi word is “labba”.

Could it be that centuries ago some Ceylonese jokester substituted a regular word with an expletive when he or she introduced the language to an unsuspecting Dhivehi person and watched, in great amusement, as the word was imported into Dhivehi language in its full phallic glory?

Have we been swearing at our fathers and mothers, landlords and bosses, ministers and presidents, kings and queens for centuries? It certainly is fact from the point of view of the Sinhalese even today.

Whether this particular word is just a freak coincidence, an oddity or indeed a great practical joke, we may never know. But one thing is certain; the Sinhalese still laugh their labbas off as we unwittingly swear in our most respectful of moments.

As hilarious (or insulting) as it maybe, the practicality and the truth of the my friend’s quirky suggestion cannot be questioned. One can indeed go to Paradise via ferry. But the same cannot be said of sheilk Ilyas’s sermon as I have reason to believe that he may have lied.

Now, it must be said that I did not personally attend this event; I did however, download the recording of the speech and listen intently for 15 minutes. I am not a scholar of religion (and certainly not a religious scholar). But I am capable of common sense and critical analysis and 15 minutes of it was enough for me to stop and think.

To set the stage for this 1 hour long ramble, he related, what he claimed to be, a true story. At the preamble (at 5:48 into the sermon) he ensured the gathering that the story he was about to relate was a “haqeeqee” story. In my view, when something is said to be the “haqeeqath” it is authentic. This adjective is far more potent than it’s sibling “thedhu” (English: true) and is used in matters of reliable, verifiable and accurate historical events.

The story was about an “Arab” Muslim man who traveled to the United States for education. There he befriended a Christian who invited him to the church. At the church he encountered a priest who rudely requested that he leave the church premises promptly (audience’s contempt requested). The Muslim man, apparently feeling hopeless (audience’s sympathy requested), was about to leave when the priest stopped him and challenged, Hey Muslim man, before you leave can you answer 22 of my questions? This question, sheikh Ilyas said, was intended to belittle and ridicule the Muslim man (audience’s sympathy established).

Here sheikh Ilyas had exploited one of the oldest tricks in fiction writing: he had established the Muslim man as the innocent hero deserving sympathy and the priest as villain. The audience was now captivated and anticipated the confrontation ahead anxiously as if they had been watching a thriller on silver screen. Unfortunately, this was the point at which the story, the supposedly authentic event, started to sound more like a cock-and-bull concoction that the good sheikh invented to sensationalize his sermon.

The bulk of the priest’s questions had been designed and handpicked to be identifiable with Islamic theology; not Christian – as one would imagine a priest’s challenge to be. A priest could not have asked these questions unless he was an impostor within the clergy – a mullah in a cassock.

Interestingly, in line with popular fundamentalist doctrines, the answer to the 21st question (at 12:35) posed by the priest was misogynistic. Before leading to the answer sheikh Ilyas slyly took cover behind his characters by claiming that he was merely relating answers to questions and apologized to the audience (at 12:41), implying that his opinion on the matter maybe different to that of his protagonist’s.

Priest: What was it that was created and was a big thing [for God]?
Muslim man: Women’s deceit.

One is tempted to ask about men’s deceit: the reason for so many wars, mindless killing and violence, animosity, intolerance, hatred and contempt. What about the deceit of people like the good Sheikh? Indeed, if sheikh Ilyas’s opinion in the matter of God’s contempt for women’s deceit was different then surely either sheikh Ilyas or the Muslim man had blasphemed.

Why did sheikh Ilyas apologize to the Muslim man’s reply at the risk of blaspheming? Why must he apologize for God’s work (that was related by the priest and confirmed by the Muslim man)? Was he expecting the audience to disregard that particular question and answer? This is unlikely considering that such a misogynistic comment did nothing to make the priest think twice or stop from spontaneously converting to Islam. That the priest may have been a mullah in a cassock made it easier is a possibility. But then the conversion to Islam of the entire congregation present at the church? That’s pushing it into the realm of fiction.

Sheikh Ilyas’s parable probably left the audience in a state of triumph, the men feeling superior now that their deceit isn’t such a “big thing” with God, the women wondering if by merely breathing they were deceiving. Never for once would anyone have thought:

1. When did this event take place? Surely not in ancient times because America was discovered relatively recently.
2. Why haven’t I heard about this miraculous event?
3. Why isn’t this Arab Muslim man, who after a simple Q&A converted an entire churchful, famous? What’s his name?
4. Realizing his potential, has he done any other churches?
5. If this was simply a case of Allah’s will, then why didn’t sheikh Ilyas just say that Allah converted an entire church one fine day? (Possible answer: would have been less dramatic)
6. In that case why aren’t Christians by the churchload getting converted?

These questions and more lead me to believe that sheikh Ilyas’s story was a work of fiction, a lie, cock-and-bull. It was never the “haqeeqath” that he claimed it to be. It was improbable. I challenge sheikh Ilyas to produce evidence of this miraculous and sensational event taking place in the United States exactly as told by him in the sermon.

A friend told me before the event that sheikh Ilyas was a great speaker. Yes, and an even greater showman.

Unfortunately neither quality is a guarantee of absolute truths.

“For example, I pay Dhiraagu Rf350 per month for 4GB of ADSL usage, and if I download porn and shit amounting to a mere 3 GB a particular month, wouldn’t that be a loss of 1 GB for me?”

“For example, I pay Rf 10 for a can of chilled camel uri.., I mean, orange juice and throw away the can, which has a production cost of about Rf 3, wouldn’t that be a loss of Rf 3 for me? And…and if I urinate and perspire the water content from that can in the next few hours, wouldn’t that be a loss of about Rf 9 at the very least?”

“For example, I pay Rf 300 to MediaNet for satellite TV and only watch PeaceTV (while I download 3 GB of porn), wouldn’t that be a loss of some obscure amount that I cannot be bothered to calculate?”

“For example, I pay Rf20 for a taxi to transport me 300 meters but that distance only burns Rf 5 of petrol, wouldn’t that be a loss of Rf15 for me?”

“For example, I put 2 eggs to boil and the amount of energy effectively used in bringing the water to boiling point is just 20% of the actual energy produced by my stove during that time, wouldn’t that be a loss of 80% of the energy to unnecessarily heat up my kitchen like the bottom of hell?”

“For example, if I pray daily and also perform a Haj that costs Rf 70,000 to beseech a cure to my prostitute, I mean, prostate cancer, but I suffer for 10 years without sex and die, wouldn’t that be a…wait a minute!”

“Just Rf 2,000 for the Madhana program you say?”

“Hmmm…”

From Wikipedia.

“Mead” is also popular as a house  name in Maldives and is usually prefixed by an accompanying adjective or noun as in:

• Ma. Rose Mead
• G. Ocean Mead
• H. Lunch Mead
• G. Sweet Mead (indeed!)
• Seenu Hithadhoo Flower Mead
• Kulhudhufushi White Mead
• H. Blue Mead

Could it be the remnants of merrier times bygone?

“Pour me shum mo mead, Muhammadhu kalhey old boyo! Hic!”