Contemplating Loss at Ramadan

Last year, inspired by conversations on BC discussion boards I wrote a post about Ramadan and what it means to me. I am a (slightly confused) non-Muslim who has lived in Muslim countries, so perhaps have a different take on the holy month from some people. Ramadan is, for me, primarily a time for contemplation and reflection. This led me last year to write about being apart from loved ones and to announce the establishment of a imediate.org – a peace orientated organisation which I continue to run a year on.

Over the past year imediate.org has worked in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Iraq. We have worked on issues in Nepal, DR Congo, and Palestine and we are set to begin work in Uganda, Kenya and Bangladesh in coming months. Increasingly we are working in British communities and with British organizations - perhaps a good time to reflect on the reality that violent conflict is something that is capable of rearing its ugly head in every community, in every country, around the world – and not something, as some newspapers would have you believe, synonymous with Islam.

A few weeks ago in Baghdad, I posted a chirpy daily blog (which a flabbergasting 2,000 people tuned in). The aim of my travel blog was to present a different face of Iraq and Iraqi people and I even managed to draw some positivity from the truck bomb attack which came pretty close. However, I wasn’t in Iraq to blog and I perhaps skimmed over my mission there. I was in Baghdad to explore media campaigns that would address human rights issues – and as my time in Iraq ended as Ramadan began, I hope some seeds were sown that this month will be reflected upon.

Working with a group of people who had suffered torture, loss, and displacement first hand meant that human rights concerns were very real – and in Iraq stretch far beyond Camp Ashraf and Gay Rights (agendas being pushed by those outside of Iraq). Just one example - I was told horrific stories of sites in Iraq that are home to mass graves – where thousands of Iraqis, Kurds, and even Iranians lay dead, unidentified and not at rest. Some buried alive. A civil-holocaust.

Although not a huge issue for the Government of Iraq, who want to focus on those that are alive, I learnt that every day people arrive at the Ministry of Human Rights with pain in their hearts seeking information about missing loved ones. Perhaps because I have pain in my own heart this week, having lost a very dear friend to a very different kind of conflict (a very real battle with cancer), I am moved to reach out to these poor souls - stuck in limbo and unable to heal because of lack of governmental will and properly trained DNA experts. It is common sense to me that when both the alive and dead are properly at rest a community is better able to recover itself.

So this Ramadan (said again in my usual BBC Radio 4 "thought for the day" voice), I urge you to contemplate and reflect on those who have lost a loved one. Understand their grief, allow their frustration and angst and help them to heal.

The Reverend Nomadic discusses Ramadan

My summer recess is over and I am back. A warning to those expecting a tight piece of written work from me this evening – I am liable to ramble on a bit as I skip through civil war and onto true love, passing through a Muslim festival en route. Not quite Kerouac, but largely unedited and helped with a large glass on red nonetheless. After prompting a discussion on the Blogcatalg discussion boards about Ramadan, my fellow bloggers have asked me to blog about it. What does Ramadan mean to me, as an uber-nomad who has lived amongst Muslims? Hmmm, with respect and peace be upon you all, I am not a follower of Allah – it doesn’t ring my bells. Those close to me who are, show signs of increased compassion and thoughtfulness, but also fatigue and a quiet distance akin to a hangover. I will point you randomly in the direction of my favourite Muslim blogger, Hanifa.

I can, however tell you what fasting and contemplation mean to me – which play their part in Ramadan. Fasting, as I get it, is about giving up something generally taken for granted and an observation of what is to follow. I sometimes fast for a couple of days at a time. It focuses the mind, and cleanses the body. I am usually at my most inspired and creative following a period of abstinence.

Contemplation is probably even more boring for you to hear about. It is a reassessment of my position in life, and most importantly, this year it has meant some important changes. Ramadan is an appropriate time to announce my plans to launch an organisation that promotes non-violent resolution of conflict (using media and arts). Sound a bit hippy? I am fairly determined to make this as dynamic as it has to be. Never before has it felt so right. As with a lot of things in my life at the moment, not least the true love for a Land Rover 90 and the man set to drive her.
So in contemplating peace I got to thinking about a country I stopped in for a good three years and got to know better than most – Sri Lanka. I am not about to give my views on the complex civil war that has engulfed the island for over two decades, killing over 70,000 people. OK, well I might hint at it. I won’t take sides though, I can see both arguments – as distorted and distressed as they are. I do refuse to buy into the demonising of the Tamil Tigers thing. Their violent murderous crime is well catalogued, but perhaps what isn’t, is their ability to protect and give order amongst a chaos brought about by an oppressive government (which I witnessed first hand in 2003).

This is not simply about fighting terrorists as Ravindra Wickremasinghe seems to think in the Asian Tribune this week. In Afghanistan last month I was told that “anyone could become a Taleban in the eye of a foreigner”, then I guess any Tamil could become a terrorist in some eyes. Careful.

I was thinking about Sri Lanka when a friends Facebook status informed me that he was once again displaced. I found out he had left the island of Sri and Serendipity and headed where many have headed - to another much larger island full of strange creatures such as wombats. During the ceasefire a few years ago, I travelled with this friend to Jaffna and the north and saw the places he grew up in shattered by what Lankans loving call “the problems”. His departure from Sri Lanka is as significant to me as the assassination of my friend in Basra last year. A hope extinguished. One less ray of sunshine in a difficult place.

So, (she says in her best Radio 4 voice), thought for the day is to consider all those who tonight are not where they want to be. Those who are apart from their lovers (a-hem). Removed from their children, or displaced from their cherished homelands (for whatever reason). Or, like the blogger Mohammad Erraji, away from their families (because he is in prison in Morocco).

I am beginning to sound like Reverend Nomadic. My summer was filled with wine and good times, and I have much to think about, so a fast may be long overdue to bring me back round. So, a Ramadan Mubarak to you all. And most importantly may peace be upon you.