ISIS claims responsibility for blast killing dozens at Shia mosque in Pakistan's Peshawar
Islamabad, Pakistan (CNN)The Islamic State (ISIS) has claimed responsibility for Friday's attack on a Shia mosque in Pakistan's northwestern city of Peshawar that killed at least 61 people and injured another 196.
A post from ISIS-affiliated Amaq news agency said a suicide bomber trained by the militant group had carried out the attack, which struck the mosque during Friday prayers.
Peshawar police chief Mohammad Ejaz Khan said investigations were still underway.
"(The attacker) walked into Kucha Risalda Mosque during Friday prayers, he started firing indiscriminately at the police and then set off the explosives on him," Khan said.
The attack was the deadliest in Pakistan since July 2018, when a strike carried out by ISIS killed 149 people in the city of Quetta.
Pakistan's intelligence agencies had "all the information regarding the origins of where the terrorists came from & are going after them with full force," the country's Prime Minister Imran Khan said in a tweet on Friday night.
Pakistan's Shia minority has long been the target of violence by Sunni Muslim Islamist militant groups, including the Pakistani Taliban, or Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan.
Thousands have been killed, many of them Shia Muslims, in sectarian violence in Pakistan, according to Human Rights Watch and other monitoring groups.
https://www.cnn.com/2022/03/04/asia/pak ... index.html
Pluralism in Islamic Ummah
Shia and Sunni: Understanding different Muslim interpretations
Video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FXn9P1ZeeRc&t=4s
Sunni and Shia Muslims share many central beliefs, including a belief in the Oneness of Allah (tawhid), and that Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him and his family) was the final Messenger of Allah, who received Divine revelations recorded in the Holy Qur’an.
The main difference between Sunni and Shia Muslims is based on whether or not they believe that Prophet Muhammad explicitly designated a successor.
Sunni Muslims believe that the Prophet did not explicitly declare a successor. Shia Muslims believe that the Prophet publicly designated his cousin and son-in-law, Hazrat Ali (peace be upon him), as the first in a line of hereditary Imams from the Prophet’s family to lead the community after him.
Sunni Muslims
Sunnis consider the caliphs as the immediate successors of the Prophet. The early leaders were companions of the Prophet who became caliphs through different processes to lead the Muslim community. Sunnis call the first four leaders after the Prophet the “Rightly Guided Caliphs” (khulafa rashidun). These caliphs were Hazrat Abu Bakr, Hazrat Umar, Hazrat Uthman, and Hazrat Ali.
After Hazrat Ali died in 661 CE, the first Muslim dynasty of caliphs from one family began, known as the Umayyad caliphate. The Umayyads ruled over the Muslim world until 750 CE. They were overthrown after several internal rebellions, leading to the establishment of the Abbasid caliphate, the second dynasty of caliphs.
The early Sunnis viewed the caliphs as having both religious and political authority. Over time, the caliphs came to be seen mainly as political rulers, while the scholars (ulama) who had knowledge of matters of faith came to be viewed as religious authorities and interpreters.
Sunnis are formally known as Ahl al-Sunna wa’l-Jama‘a or “the people of the Prophet’s way and the community.” The term Sunni derives from the followers of the sunna, which are the sayings and actions of the Prophet. They rely on the consensus of opinion of the scholars of the community for guidance in matters of religion. Sunnis strive to live according to the example of the Prophet as found in medieval records of the sunna.
There are many different communities of Sunnis today. They live in different parts of the world and speak many different languages. They also have different interpretations of religious beliefs and practices.
There are four major recognised schools of law (madhahib) today: Hanafi, Hanbali, Maliki, and Shafi’i. In addition, most Sufis, who are Muslims who emphasise personal spiritual search, are Sunnis belonging to various Sufi tariqahs.
Shia Muslims
The Shia also strive to live according to the sunna, or example of Prophet Muhammad, as interpreted by the teachings of their hereditary Imams. In addition, they recognise the ongoing leadership and strive to follow the guidance of the Imams, who are responsible for interpreting the faith, as well as improving the quality of life of those who refer to them.
The Shia affirm that the Prophet declared Hazrat Ali as his successor to lead the Muslim community on several occasions. The most well-known of these is the Prophet’s declaration at Ghadir Khumm.
The Prophet and his followers were returning from his final pilgrimage to Mecca when he asked them to stop at an oasis called Ghadir Khumm. It is recorded in both Shia and Sunni hadith collections that Prophet Muhammad spoke to the gathering. Towards the end of his address, he raised Hazrat Ali’s hand and said, “he whose mawla I am, Ali is his mawla” (man kuntu mawlahu fa Aliyyun mawlahu).
The word mawla can be interpreted to mean friend, client, or master. Based on several contextual reasons, the Shia accepted it to mean “master,” and that Hazrat Ali was designated to assume the leadership of the Muslims after the Prophet’s death.
The Shia also believe that the Holy Qur’an mentions the higher spiritual status of the Imams from the Prophet’s family. For instance, Allah says that He wishes to purify the Ahl al-Bayt, the people of the Prophet’s household (Qur’an 33:33).
In the Qur’an, Allah has also raised Prophet Abraham (Ibrahim) and his descendants above all mankind (Qur’an 3:33-34; 4:54). Prophet Abraham is believed to be the ancestor of many Prophets, including Prophet Moses (Musa), Prophet Jesus (Isa), and Prophet Muhammad. This means that the Imams from Prophet Muhammad’s descendants are among those whom Allah has raised in status.
The elevated status of the Ahl al-Bayt is also supported by a well-known saying of Prophet Muhammad known as Hadith al-Thaqalayn, or the Hadith of the Two Weighty Matters. The Shia uphold that the Prophet is reported to have said, “I am leaving among you two matters of great weight, the Book of Allah and my kindred, the People of my House (Ahl al-Bayt).” Similar versions of this saying are found in both Shia and Sunni hadith collections, including the Musnad of Ahmad ibn Hanbal and Sahih Muslim of Muslim ibn al-Hajjaj.
Other sayings of the Prophet explain Hazrat Ali’s role as a spiritual guide. One such saying is, “I am the city of knowledge and Ali is its gate. Whoever desires knowledge should enter the city by that gate.”
Over the centuries, several branches of the Shia have emerged, primarily as a result of disagreements on succession. The largest branches today are the Ithna’asharis, the Ismailis, and the Zaydis.
His Highness the Aga Khan is the present Imam of the Shia Imami Nizari Ismaili Muslims, tracing an unbroken lineage back to Prophet Muhammad through Hazrat Ali and Bibi Fatima (peace be upon them), the Prophet’s beloved daughter.
Sources
Nanji, Azim. The Penguin Dictionary of Islam. London and New York: Penguin Books, 2008.
Faith and Practice in Islamic Traditions, vol. 1 (Student Reader). London: Islamic Publications Limited for The Institute of Ismaili Studies, 2015.
Learn More
Article: What is Shi’a Islam? by Farhad Daftary and Azim Nanji
Article: The Ismaili Imamat by The Institute of Ismaili Studies
Video: A Guiding Light: The Imamat of the Shia Ismaili Muslims by The Ismaili TV
IIS Secondary Curriculum: Faith and Practice in Islamic Traditions, vol. 1
Article: Al-Suyuti on the Merits of Imam ‘Ali by Stephen R. Burge
https://the.ismaili/global/news/feature ... -173435533
Why Most Muslims I Know Are Feeling a Growing Sense of Dread
By Wajahat Ali
Mr. Ali is the author of “Go Back to Where You Came From: And Other Helpful Recommendations on How to Become American” and is a co-host of the “Democracy-ish” podcast.
In the past few weeks, most Muslims I know, including me, have felt a growing sense of dread about the news of the killings of four Muslims since November — Aftab Hussein, 41; Muhammad Afzaal Hussain, 27; Mohammad Zahir Ahmadi, 62; and Naeem Hussain, 25 — in the Albuquerque area.
Their deaths didn’t feel random or unconnected. We learned that three of the four men were Shiite Muslims.
Last week, when authorities announced the arrest of a man in connection with two of the killings, we breathed a sigh of relief. But his name, Muhammad Syed, was a gut punch. We knew there was a possibility that the killings were motivated by anti-Muslim sentiment — but few of us expected that a Muslim would be arrested.
Though the police are still working to determine a motive, The Times has reported that the killings might be linked to a sectarian dispute — that the accused, who is Sunni Muslim and originally from Afghanistan, may have been angry that his daughter married a Shiite man.
A member of Albuquerque’s Muslim community described Mr. Syed’s “explosive, violent” personality. He was previously charged with battery against his daughter’s husband, who told authorities Mr. Syed threatened to kill him. On a different occasion, Mr. Syed was accused of using slurs against Shiite business owners. More than once, the police were called to the Syed household to investigate reports of domestic violence against Mr. Syed’s wife and children, The Times reported. Now Muhammad Syed’s son Shaheen Syed is in federal custody, and authorities believe he may have played a role in one of the killings.
Many Muslims across the country have expressed the hope that these killings were not sectarian acts. A representative for the Council on American-Islamic Relations, a civil rights group, said, “Like Protestants and Catholics, the Sunni and Shiite communities in this country live near each other, work with each other and marry each other in peace,” and added that “there is no significant history of violence at all in the U.S. between Shias and Sunnis.”
Indeed, intra-Muslim sectarian attacks are rare in the United States. It’s horrific to think that anti-Muslim hate from a fellow Muslim may have played a role — but religious leaders and communities across the country are contemplating that possibility.
Some are trying to reduce tensions. After the arrest, Imam Khalid Latif, a Sunni chaplain and the executive director of the Islamic Center at N.Y.U., wrote a powerful Twitter thread urging fellow Sunnis to proactively confront anti-Shiite hate and uplift Shiite voices. He concluded his message with a prayer for the Sunni community: “Help each of us to be the best of their supporters at this time and to do our part to obliterate hatred in all of its forms, including anti-Shia hatred, even if that means speaking out against those who are close to us.”
His words were strong, and I wish more Sunni religious leaders would speak out as forcefully. I’ve come to expect grim news from Pakistan, Afghanistan and other Muslim-majority countries about attacks on Shiites, who account for about 15 percent of Muslims worldwide. But I don’t expect it in America, where Muslims, regardless of our sect, have our minority status in common and are routinely stigmatized by bigots who don’t differentiate among Muslim sects. As a candidate for president in 2016, Donald Trump made no secret of his antipathy to the religion, saying, “I think Islam hates us.”
Historically, Shiite and Sunni Muslims have coexisted and thrived around the world, but recent years have seen a proliferation of sectarian violence. There are significant differences between the sects on certain religious and historical issues, particularly regarding the line of succession after the death of the Prophet Muhammad. But the core tenets and practices of Islam, as well as immense love for the prophet’s family, are common bonds devoutly held within both sects.
Sectarian hate is learned, exacerbated by geopolitical conflicts and fueled by extremist interpretations of Islam. And as a minority among Muslims, Shiites have been subjected to double standards, ignorant fearmongering, suspicion and sometimes violence. Hard-line religious leaders and scholars — in Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, for instance — have seen marginalizing Shiites as integral to Sunni identity.
This is the Islamic month of Muharram, a time when Shiite mosques and communities around the world are often targets of Sunni Muslim extremists who denigrate Shiites with slurs such as “disbeliever” and “apostate.”
Like many Muslim Americans, I never encountered this kind of bigotry as a child. Growing up in the suburban streets of Fremont, Calif., my best friend was Shiite, and we spent our summers making homemade action movies together. Our Pakistani American mothers fed us biryani, and we prayed in each other’s homes. During college, I took a course on Shiism to become more knowledgeable and aware, and Shiite friends regularly came over to my apartment, shared with a Sunni roommate, to drink chai and play video games.
Then and now, when I’ve heard anti-Shiite comments, they’ve often been rationalized as harmless jokes, political incorrectness or just expressing an opinion. Maybe, but those unchecked remarks also reflect an anti-Shiite bias that is, troublingly, not uncommon.
It pains me when Muslim Americans, even inadvertently, mimic the oppressive views or behaviors of xenophobes and nativists. We should know better. Particularly since Sept. 11, we’ve been on the receiving end of jokes and slights about terrorism, jihad and Shariah that become talking points for anti-Muslim zealots. Muslim Americans have been asked to prove our loyalty to our country, and our patriotism is routinely questioned.
This has (or should have) made us cherish and fight for the values of tolerance and religious pluralism that allowed our parents to build mosques, establish their communities and raise children who could one day be the heroes of the American story.
And yet we, too, can succumb to prejudice. Sometimes that prejudice presents as a monopoly on understanding and communicating the beliefs of Islam, a religion of around 1.8 billion people. It builds artificial walls between coreligionists — and fellow Americans.
There are those who would prefer that Muslim sectarianism not be widely discussed. “Some Muslims are saying, ‘Don’t air our dirty laundry,’ because it will impact Islamophobia,” Faiyaz Jaffer, a Shiite chaplain and research scholar at the Islamic Center at N.Y.U., told me. He doesn’t subscribe to that view. “People are dying. Shia people are dying,” he said. “We’re used to it. It’s tragic. But we shouldn’t be used to it.” He asked my forgiveness, in case he sounded angry.
But one should be angry about sectarian hate. That’s the appropriate response, not apathy. Like every community and family, instead of confronting the numerous problems that exist and plague us, we often bury them. Avoiding those discussions comes with a cost.
Naeem Hussain, a Shiite who was one of the four killed in Albuquerque, has been described by his brother-in-law Ehsan Shahalami as a “generous, kind and great soul” who avoided confrontation. When I spoke to Mr. Shahalami, he praised some Muslim American organizations for condemning the violence, but he said more must be done. “There has to be a conversation started to educate Sunnis about the reality of Shias and the negative connotation and lies tied to Shias and Shiism,” he said. “It has to be tackled at the grass-roots level.”
Hate in all its forms must be confronted and called out. The police are still investigating what motivated the stabbing of the author Salman Rushdie at a lecture in western New York on Friday. A New Jersey man, Hadi Matar, has been arrested. Sadly, the attack has already garnered applause from some religious extremists who see it as the fulfillment of a fatwa against the author issued in 1989 by Iran’s supreme leader at the time, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.
And Muslims must talk about hate within our communities, in whatever form it takes — sectarian violence, attacks on those whose words offend religious authorities or domestic violence (which Mr. Syed has also been accused of). There are times when dirty laundry must be aired.
I want my children to grow up with friends of all different backgrounds and religions, as I did. I want them to think of their Shiite friends as fellow Muslims. Sunnis can’t fully reflect the pluralistic and generous spirit of Islam until we include Shiites as full members of our complex, evolving and diverse religious family.
To do that, we must be willing to call out the anti-Shiite tyrant within our mosques, our homes and maybe even ourselves. In doing so, we will be reflecting the best of both Islam and America.
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/16/opin ... 778d3e6de3
Mr. Ali is the author of “Go Back to Where You Came From: And Other Helpful Recommendations on How to Become American” and is a co-host of the “Democracy-ish” podcast.
In the past few weeks, most Muslims I know, including me, have felt a growing sense of dread about the news of the killings of four Muslims since November — Aftab Hussein, 41; Muhammad Afzaal Hussain, 27; Mohammad Zahir Ahmadi, 62; and Naeem Hussain, 25 — in the Albuquerque area.
Their deaths didn’t feel random or unconnected. We learned that three of the four men were Shiite Muslims.
Last week, when authorities announced the arrest of a man in connection with two of the killings, we breathed a sigh of relief. But his name, Muhammad Syed, was a gut punch. We knew there was a possibility that the killings were motivated by anti-Muslim sentiment — but few of us expected that a Muslim would be arrested.
Though the police are still working to determine a motive, The Times has reported that the killings might be linked to a sectarian dispute — that the accused, who is Sunni Muslim and originally from Afghanistan, may have been angry that his daughter married a Shiite man.
A member of Albuquerque’s Muslim community described Mr. Syed’s “explosive, violent” personality. He was previously charged with battery against his daughter’s husband, who told authorities Mr. Syed threatened to kill him. On a different occasion, Mr. Syed was accused of using slurs against Shiite business owners. More than once, the police were called to the Syed household to investigate reports of domestic violence against Mr. Syed’s wife and children, The Times reported. Now Muhammad Syed’s son Shaheen Syed is in federal custody, and authorities believe he may have played a role in one of the killings.
Many Muslims across the country have expressed the hope that these killings were not sectarian acts. A representative for the Council on American-Islamic Relations, a civil rights group, said, “Like Protestants and Catholics, the Sunni and Shiite communities in this country live near each other, work with each other and marry each other in peace,” and added that “there is no significant history of violence at all in the U.S. between Shias and Sunnis.”
Indeed, intra-Muslim sectarian attacks are rare in the United States. It’s horrific to think that anti-Muslim hate from a fellow Muslim may have played a role — but religious leaders and communities across the country are contemplating that possibility.
Some are trying to reduce tensions. After the arrest, Imam Khalid Latif, a Sunni chaplain and the executive director of the Islamic Center at N.Y.U., wrote a powerful Twitter thread urging fellow Sunnis to proactively confront anti-Shiite hate and uplift Shiite voices. He concluded his message with a prayer for the Sunni community: “Help each of us to be the best of their supporters at this time and to do our part to obliterate hatred in all of its forms, including anti-Shia hatred, even if that means speaking out against those who are close to us.”
His words were strong, and I wish more Sunni religious leaders would speak out as forcefully. I’ve come to expect grim news from Pakistan, Afghanistan and other Muslim-majority countries about attacks on Shiites, who account for about 15 percent of Muslims worldwide. But I don’t expect it in America, where Muslims, regardless of our sect, have our minority status in common and are routinely stigmatized by bigots who don’t differentiate among Muslim sects. As a candidate for president in 2016, Donald Trump made no secret of his antipathy to the religion, saying, “I think Islam hates us.”
Historically, Shiite and Sunni Muslims have coexisted and thrived around the world, but recent years have seen a proliferation of sectarian violence. There are significant differences between the sects on certain religious and historical issues, particularly regarding the line of succession after the death of the Prophet Muhammad. But the core tenets and practices of Islam, as well as immense love for the prophet’s family, are common bonds devoutly held within both sects.
Sectarian hate is learned, exacerbated by geopolitical conflicts and fueled by extremist interpretations of Islam. And as a minority among Muslims, Shiites have been subjected to double standards, ignorant fearmongering, suspicion and sometimes violence. Hard-line religious leaders and scholars — in Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, for instance — have seen marginalizing Shiites as integral to Sunni identity.
This is the Islamic month of Muharram, a time when Shiite mosques and communities around the world are often targets of Sunni Muslim extremists who denigrate Shiites with slurs such as “disbeliever” and “apostate.”
Like many Muslim Americans, I never encountered this kind of bigotry as a child. Growing up in the suburban streets of Fremont, Calif., my best friend was Shiite, and we spent our summers making homemade action movies together. Our Pakistani American mothers fed us biryani, and we prayed in each other’s homes. During college, I took a course on Shiism to become more knowledgeable and aware, and Shiite friends regularly came over to my apartment, shared with a Sunni roommate, to drink chai and play video games.
Then and now, when I’ve heard anti-Shiite comments, they’ve often been rationalized as harmless jokes, political incorrectness or just expressing an opinion. Maybe, but those unchecked remarks also reflect an anti-Shiite bias that is, troublingly, not uncommon.
It pains me when Muslim Americans, even inadvertently, mimic the oppressive views or behaviors of xenophobes and nativists. We should know better. Particularly since Sept. 11, we’ve been on the receiving end of jokes and slights about terrorism, jihad and Shariah that become talking points for anti-Muslim zealots. Muslim Americans have been asked to prove our loyalty to our country, and our patriotism is routinely questioned.
This has (or should have) made us cherish and fight for the values of tolerance and religious pluralism that allowed our parents to build mosques, establish their communities and raise children who could one day be the heroes of the American story.
And yet we, too, can succumb to prejudice. Sometimes that prejudice presents as a monopoly on understanding and communicating the beliefs of Islam, a religion of around 1.8 billion people. It builds artificial walls between coreligionists — and fellow Americans.
There are those who would prefer that Muslim sectarianism not be widely discussed. “Some Muslims are saying, ‘Don’t air our dirty laundry,’ because it will impact Islamophobia,” Faiyaz Jaffer, a Shiite chaplain and research scholar at the Islamic Center at N.Y.U., told me. He doesn’t subscribe to that view. “People are dying. Shia people are dying,” he said. “We’re used to it. It’s tragic. But we shouldn’t be used to it.” He asked my forgiveness, in case he sounded angry.
But one should be angry about sectarian hate. That’s the appropriate response, not apathy. Like every community and family, instead of confronting the numerous problems that exist and plague us, we often bury them. Avoiding those discussions comes with a cost.
Naeem Hussain, a Shiite who was one of the four killed in Albuquerque, has been described by his brother-in-law Ehsan Shahalami as a “generous, kind and great soul” who avoided confrontation. When I spoke to Mr. Shahalami, he praised some Muslim American organizations for condemning the violence, but he said more must be done. “There has to be a conversation started to educate Sunnis about the reality of Shias and the negative connotation and lies tied to Shias and Shiism,” he said. “It has to be tackled at the grass-roots level.”
Hate in all its forms must be confronted and called out. The police are still investigating what motivated the stabbing of the author Salman Rushdie at a lecture in western New York on Friday. A New Jersey man, Hadi Matar, has been arrested. Sadly, the attack has already garnered applause from some religious extremists who see it as the fulfillment of a fatwa against the author issued in 1989 by Iran’s supreme leader at the time, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.
And Muslims must talk about hate within our communities, in whatever form it takes — sectarian violence, attacks on those whose words offend religious authorities or domestic violence (which Mr. Syed has also been accused of). There are times when dirty laundry must be aired.
I want my children to grow up with friends of all different backgrounds and religions, as I did. I want them to think of their Shiite friends as fellow Muslims. Sunnis can’t fully reflect the pluralistic and generous spirit of Islam until we include Shiites as full members of our complex, evolving and diverse religious family.
To do that, we must be willing to call out the anti-Shiite tyrant within our mosques, our homes and maybe even ourselves. In doing so, we will be reflecting the best of both Islam and America.
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/16/opin ... 778d3e6de3