Filmmaker Tackles Sudan's Identity Crisis

For: WarScapes

*Update: On Sept. 14, 2014 Beats of Antonov won the People Choice Documentary Award at the 39th Toronto International Film Festival.

Sudanese filmmaker Hajooj Kuka has made identity the central topic of his new documentary, Beats of Antonov, which was mostly filmed in the war-zones of the Nuba Mountains and Blue Nile State, as well as in the refugee camps hosting citizens from these regions. The 66-minute documentary was selected for its world premier at the Toronto International Film Festival* 2014, and it is the first Sudanese film to ever premiere at TiFF. 

This is Kuka’s second feature documentary covering a war zone in his native country. In 2007 he released Darfur’s Skeleton, which focused on explaining the causes of the conflict and the citizen suffering resulting from the war in Darfur. Just like Beats of Antonov, it was completely narrated by its main subjects: Darfuri citizens. Kuka has an interest in animation, photography and fiction films; and is also an activist and a member of the non-violent youth-based Sudanese resistance movement, GIRIFNA. 

The Sudanese regime puts great limitations on freedom of expression and of the press and media to the extent that makes an intimate glimpse into the realities of citizens enduring state-sponsored wars a very rare opportunity. 

National identity is by far the most politically divisive topic in Sudan and has often been reserved for discussion by intellectuals, members of the civil society and the political elite. Never has there been a national dialogue on identity that is readily accessible to non-organized citizens in a language or medium they can relate to. The documentary sets out to change this situation. 

Beats of Antonov not only reflects the courage of its director, who delved into an under-reported war zone, but also demonstrates a creativity in approaching a challenging topic in a part of the world that is often viewed and analyzed with the lens and perspective of foreigners. Kuka’s filming style conjures a dreamy, magical realism with long grasping moments of silence. He shies away from talking heads, but when used they are powerful and engaging.

The genius of Beats of Antonov, however, is not that it merely gives voice to those rarely heard and seen on camera, but that it manages to do so while maintaining their dignity and showing them as resilient, creative and victorious regardless of their circumstances.

The first minutes of the film show people running to an underground shelter to avoid an antonov bomb followed by a scene of celebration, dance and music in a refugee camp. The musical instruments used were made by the refugees from recycled materials and the lyrics are often composed by those who are singing them, reflecting their reality of displacement and militarization. 

Displacement and the hardships and losses of war have made cultural preservation a conscious pursuit for citizens of the Nuba Mountains and Blue Nile State. Music, dance and Nuba wrestling are central features of life in the refugee camps. This, perhaps, is the cinematic feat of Beats of Antonov. It makes a film that could be heavy and difficult to watch entertaining, grasping and human because it uses the universal language of art and culture as an entry point into a non-inclusive debate that is often loaded with the language of power politics; and hence disempowering to the majority of citizens.

Prominent members of Sudan’s civil society are also given space to pitch their opinion on Sudanese identity, especially on the political failures of a regime that came 25 years ago with a “civilization project” bent on erasing diversity and “Islamizing” and “Arabizing” all of Sudan. Local religious leaders and traditions are also featured in the film, thus representing the religious diversity of that region. 

Beats of Antonov manages to rebalance the conversation on Sudanese identity by fully acknowledging all of its vital components: the cultural, the political and the religious. It also leaves the audience with a feeling of hope and allows one to imagine the possibility of an abundant life in that region of Sudan, if and when peace is finally achieved. 

Even though this film is premiering to an international audience, its real value will be in its screening to audiences around Sudan and to the Sudanese diaspora. Although it is likely to create a fresh debate on identity, what will be more rewarding (and what is more needed) is its promise to build human bridges of empathy between the urban Sudanese population and diaspora communities who are tightly sealed from the suffering of the residents of the marginalized rural areas and conflict zones.

Sudan’s geographical vastness, poor infrastructure and multiple wars have meant that many parts of the country are like islands that never intersect. This isolation from the “other,” based on fear, state propaganda, dogma and ignorance has cemented the stereotypes that foster racism, discrimination as well as cultural and social ghettos. This is also the reason there is no popular anti-war movement stemming from the center to support the marginalized peripheries, regardless of persistent efforts by Sudanese youth movements since 2009. 

Beats of Antonov shatters both the dominant narrative and the enforced isolation of Sudan’s regions and people by telling a compelling story that transcends the divisiveness of identity politics and attempts to build human bridges as well as an opportunity for a much needed citizen-based dialogue. 

Sudanese University Students Demand a Campus Free of Violence

For: openDemocracy

Students share their strike demands with a wider public at a press conference at the University of Khartoum, April 10, 2014.

One might assume that universities are a safe haven for free dialogue, learning and intellectual debate. This, however, is far from the reality in Sudan, where most public universities have a heavy presence of armed pro-regime student militias who store their weapons on campus in what are called Jihadist Units.Pro-government militias are also often involved in terrorizing students by rigging student union elections and disrupting public debates on campus (also called arkan, meaning [debate] corners)--a common tradition in many universities in Sudan. 

Since the National Congress Party (NCP) came to power 25 years ago, at least 17 students from universities around the country have paid with their lives while peacefully practicing or demanding basic rights. None of these incidents have ever been investigated transparently, and no one has ever been held accountable.

March 11, 2014 was just another normal day on the campus of Khartoum University. A normal day that metamorphosed into a nightmare that the student body is still grappling with. That morning the Darfur Student Union organized a peaceful debate to raise awareness amongst their fellow students about the plight of their families in Darfur, where, according  to the United Nations, the rate of displacement in the last year is reminiscent of the early years of the conflict. Since the end of February this year, there have been more than 200,000 newly displaced persons in North and South Darfur combined.

The debate turned into a peaceful protest around and outside the campus that was then met with tear gas and live ammunition, leading to the death of a Darfuri Student, Ali Abbaker. He was a third year student studying economics, and was described by fellow students as someone who lacked any political affiliation and who was attending the debate and the protest like many others.

An active female student who was at the campus that day told the author anonymously:

Three students who are part of the NCP student militias entered the campus with guns. One of them shot Ali Abbaker as he was running. His killer can be identified, because he was seen and is known by many on the campus. Ali Abbaker could have been any one of us, he was not politically affiliated; he just happened to be there that day... We spend half our day on campus, is it logical that we spend all that time feeling insecure?

After a three-week shutdown the university re-opened its doors on March 31, but only to a limited number of faculties that are scattered from each other, to make it harder for students to congregate and organize. Those returning faculties excluded the Faculties of Arts - where Ali Abbaker was shot and killed - and the Faculty of Economics where he was studying. Dr. Ismat Mahmoud, a professor at the university known for his sympathetic stand with the students and their demands, asked on this facebook book page:

Given the that the Martyr Ali Abbaker was killed at the Faculty of Arts, those who have information about his murderers are students from the Economics and Arts departments. I have a thousand and one questions: to whose benefit are these students being kept away? I refuse the protection of murderers. 

Since then,Khartoum University students have managed to stage a rare feat: a 10-day strike that included solidarity from a non-official coalition of 23 sympathetic professors and almost 100 percent of the attending student body. The students also put forward a set of specific demands to the University's administration. The last time a strike was staged in late 2011, it only lasted five days before the authorities closed the entire campus for two months.

As the strike is announced, students hold pictures of killed student Ali Abbaker demanding justice and a violence-free campus.

Khartoum University has not had a functioning student union since 2010. The excessive violence by pro-regime militias attempting to rig student union elections led to a lot of instability on the campus; prompting the administration to ban future student union elections. This left the students without legitimate and formal representatives with decision-making authorities, and who could liaise amongst students, and between students and the University administration. Hence making organization hard, if not impossible - a tactic that is calculated and desired by the regime.

However, the returning students persisted. Each faculty created assemblies where discussions were held to raise awareness, and decisions were made by consensus with the presence of a facilitator. Everybody’s voice was heard, and student representatives were chosen from all classes. Decisions were then shared with a larger public via two press conferences that were attended by the more liberal leaning local press and shared via social media.

Over 2000 University of Khartoum students congregate to make plans and reach by consensus their collective demands, Apr 13, 2014

This resulted in a set of demands agreed upon by all the student body that included: identifying the killer(s) of Ali Abaker and demanding that he/they face justice; ensuring that the campus environment is safe and free of violence and weapons ( including those stored in the University's mosque); and resuming classes for all suspended faculties.

These demands were expanded upon in the Framework Agreement between Students and Professors that was signed on April 11, which demanded that three student representatives become part of the fact-finding committee investigating the death of student Ali Abbaker. The students also asked the University administration to review the role and mandate of the University’s security staff (who stood idle during the events); and to reinstate the student union.

The Framework Agreement was signed by 23 professors, and with the insistence of the professors it led to the end of the strike on April 15. However, many students see it as a non-binding agreement since it has yet to be endorsed by the University administration. Hence there is talk of re-igniting the strike if no official endorsement arrives soon. Taj Alsir Gafar, an active student commented on his facebook page saying:

The agreement between the students and the professors that resulted in suspending the April strike..... does not represent the University’s administration, because there is not yet one official statement or memo that approves or refers to this agreement. Additionally this initiative only includes a limited number of professors historically known for their noble support to the students.

Sure enough, on April 20 the Dean of the University issued a statementresponding to the Framework Agreement and announcing that the University will set up a number of committees to look into each demand. Although some of the professors said that the statement addressed most of the concerns of the students, the students were not satisfied and announced that their strike will resume on April 21. Their main objection was that there were no practical steps put in place by the University to address their concerns; and that no concrete procedures were mentioned to deal with the Jihadist Units responsible for the violence on campus. The Dean’s statement, they said, was mired in vagueness, “an indication that the administration is dragging its feet”.

I asked Maryam (not her real name), a student who’s been active in organizing the strike, why there’s such a high level of student participation and solidarity for this strike. She said: “we worked hard on raising the awareness of the students about our demands; but we also made sure we stay away from politicizing the demands in anyway.” She however expressed concerns that the fact-finding committee set up by the University to look into the death of Abbakar lacked legitimacy, and added that students did not feel safe going to talk to its members because several of them are affiliated with the ruling party; and that so far the committee lacked official links with the judiciary and the police.

It is important to note that the Sudanese government is facing national challenges at multiple levels. Last September President Omer al Bashir’s legitimacy was drastically weakened after receiving severe criticism from within his party for using excessive force to quell popular protests that led to thedeath of at least 200 young protestors. Since then, the NCP has revamped its leadership by removing five influential figures including the first vice president, presidential advisors, and parliamentarians. This was followed by calls for a National Dialogue that encompassed loosening up restrictions on political freedoms, and releasing political detainees. None of these promises have completely materialized. But with a collapsing economy, and chronic wars raging in two-thirds of the country (Darfur, the Nuba Mountains and Blue Nile State), the regime is wary of the mounting street anger; and hence is likely to tread carefully with the student strike at the University of Khartoum.

The Utopia that We Are All Sudanese

For GIRIFNA's opinion blog: garfaneen

Following the sad events of March 11, at the University of Khartoum, GIRIFNA did what it usually does. It issued a brief statement based on eyewitness accounts of its members about the death of student Ali Abbaker Musa. And the violent treatment and arrest of the Darfuri students who organized and attended a political debate and a peaceful march inside the campus, in order to highlight the latest deterioration of the humanitarian and security situation in Darfur.

What followed was a vibrant debate resulting from messages of concern that poured in from within the movement questioning why the title of the press statement was, “Darfuri Student Killed at University of Khartoum” and not simply, “Student Killed at University of Khartoum”.

Many felt strongly that singling out the ethnicity of the killed student served the regime’s tactics of dividing us as “Sudanese” into ethnicities rather than what many of us dream of being–Sudanese citizens of one nation before and on top of our ethnic and/or tribal affiliations. Others insisted that the suffering is generalized and we should focus on issues and not tribes/regions. It is important to note that the Darfurians and members from the East within the movement had an opposing opinion, and argued for the importance of pointing out Musa’s geographic origin.

Darfuri student Ali Abbaker Musa who was murdered by Sudanese riot police on the campus of the University of Khartoum on March 11, 2014

I would like to argue that in this particular context it is important to stress that a Darfuri student was murdered by the regime. The event inside the campus was organized by the Darfur Student Union who wanted to raise the awareness of the rest of the student body about the worsening humanitarian crisis and ongoing conflict in their region. A conflict that gets little attention in the Center of Sudan (outside the activist and intellectual circles), where all access to information is controlled by the regime and the majority of the citizens are disconnected from the marginalized peripheries. A conflict that has entered its first decade and has evolved to the point of no return, to the extent that the regime itself has lost control of the situation. A conflict that has seen very limited sustained solidarity from normal/apolitical citizens of the Center, who are relatively living in safer and more privileged conditions.

What the Darfurian Student Union was trying to do on March 11, was to share their narrative that is often submerged. And they did it peacefully and through a well established university culture of “arkan” or political debates. And the response they got was the usual treatment of unjustified use of force that has become a pattern.

Darfurian students in particular have paid a high penalty every time they stood for their rights. When they asked for the right to free university education they were slaughtered and thrown in ditches at Gezira University–at the end of 2012. In the last couple of years, they have also suffered targeted assassinations, rape and harassment in campuses around Sudan. Testimonials by released student detainees collected by GIRIFNA in the last two years show that Darfuri students once detained are treated very differently from their counterparts.

In late 2011, when the student movement around Sudan coalesced in solidarity with the then ongoing Manaseer protest that demanded compensation linked to the construction of the Merowe dam; Mohamed Idris Mohamed Jiddo, who was heading the Darfur Student Union at Khartoum University was also a member of the pro-Manaseer, Students’ Protest Committee. He was arrested and detained for 67 days without charges, because of his solidarity and speeches in support of the Manaseer’s demands. He was detained while taking public transportation by 11 men, one of them carrying a Kalashnikov. Once in Kobar prison he was the only prisoner and student put in shackles. He told GIRIFNA:

What struck me was that my feet were chained with shackles. I asked them, “Why am I being chained? What I know is criminal offenders are the ones who get shackled… so why me? All my other colleagues are not shackled… is it because I am from Darfur?” They replied saying: “A high-ranking official requested it.” I was nicknamed “Shackles” by the prison guards. I was the only one in Kober prison who was chained with shackles.

The real triumph of Sudan’s regime, the National Congress Party (and the tragedy of Sudan) has been that it has disconnected citizens by making their stories invisible to each other, and hence their suffering is also diminished; and with that our collective humanity. We therefore need a national exercise in regaining our humanity and recognizing the other. And this cannot be done without giving marginalized groups, and especially those enduring state-sponsored wars, the space to tell their narratives in the way they choose to.

This aspect of the Sudanese people’s struggle for freedom and democracy is where we part ways with the recent revolutions in the Arab region. Although there are similarities, such as authoritarianism and corruption; chronic and large-scale warfare characterized by an ethnic/racial divide is unique to Sudan. This is significant to the context of this debate, because of Northern Sudan’s cultural dependency on the Arab rhetoric of revolution, with Egypt being the main influencer. Although Sudan has been through a steady stream of resistance and opposition, the Arab Spring was the catalyst that sparked the chain reaction of mass citizen mobilization in the Northern urban centers. The slogans, digital activism techniques, mobilization tactics, and many other aspects of Sudan’s non-violent struggle within the past couple of years have been heavily influenced by Egypt and the Arab Spring. Even though this influence helped the movement in Sudan, it also limited it, because so far the pro-democracy movement(s) failed to address racism and/or the suppression of diverse cultural identities.

Sudan has a rich history of resistance that succeeded at toppling authoritarian regimes in the past. That spirit of resistance has been handed down to a generation of youth who are facing a much more complex reality. For the traditional political parties of the Center, issues of cultural and racial suppression are seen as byproducts, and have always taken a back seat to the politics of personality, economic reform and the rule of law. Perhaps this has created fertile ground for continuing to bypass these issues. Hence, the biggest challenge facing today’s generation of changemakers is how to create an inclusive pro-democracy movement that addresses the grievances of all Sudanese rather than falling hostage to rigid ideological and sometimes utopian thinking.

In abstract terms we are often told by academics, politicians, the civil society and the international community that our only hope, as a nation, is a sustainable and inclusive “national dialogue”. In more practical layman language, a “national dialogue” is nothing but breaking the walls between us–normal citizens–through sharing our stories. Creating human bonds and based on finding solutions that are ours, and not imposed by foreigners via bilateral negotiations and agreements (with those who hold the guns) that have constantly failed.

As George Orwell would have said: today we are not all Sudanese, because some Sudanese are more equal than others. National reconciliation in Sudan means that before we reach the utopia that “we are all Sudanese”, we will have to heal from massive trauma; know and relate to each other, and above all trust each other in order to finally realize that our destiny is one.

This cannot be done by diluting each others narratives to quickly reach a collective national identity. There are no short cuts here. We have to acknowledge all violations, and hear all grievances. And this means that right now we need to fight for fundamental freedoms that would enable us to do that; all of which have disappeared under the NCP. Without being able to speak, assemble and organize freely in our universities, public squares and the courtyards of our homes; there is no way toward a national dialogue that is created and led by the people–a grassroots and indigenous national dialogue.

Sudan’s Women Fighting to Exist

A slightly edited version appeared for: Index for Censorship

Sudan’s Public Order Law (POL) is making headlines after a female activist and engineer, Amira Osman was arrested on August 27, 2013 in Jebel Awliya, a suburb of Khartoum, for refusing to pull up her head-scarf. Amira is now facing trial for “indecent conduct”, Under Article 152 of the Sudanese penal code, and risks to be punished with flogging and/or a bail. Her next trial is scheduled for September 19.

In a calculated act of defiance against one of Africa’s most oppressive regimes, Ms. Osman recorded a video where she described the demeaning manner in which she was treated by Public Order Police (POP) and invited Sudanese citizens (men and women) to attend her trial, saying: “if you think that the Public Order Law is against you, come to Jabel Awliya’s Court...and let’s put the Public Order Law on trial”. 

The first session of her trial was on September 1, and it was attended by almost 100 persons, comprised of normal citizens, civil society members and women’s rights activists. The trial was postponed when the judge did not show up due to sickness. 

Osman’s trial is reminiscent of the POL case of Sudanese journalist Lubna Hussien, who captivated national and international attention in July 2009 when she was arrested from a restaurant in Khartoum with 12 other women, for wearing trousers. 

Public Order Laws or Social Control Laws? 

Sudan’s POLs date back to 1983. They were referred to back then as the September Laws, imposed by the authoritarian regime of President Jafaar Numeiri, who introduced Sharia corporal punishments (hudood) for acts such as, consuming alcohol, stealing, gambling or mixing between the sexes. These laws fueled the national discontent that led to the uprising that toppled Numeiri in April 1985. 

When the current regime arrived in 1989, after a military coup,  it introduced an extensive array of Public Order Laws. With the intention of creating an Islamic State, the National Islamic Front (as it was called back then), initiated a detailed “Civilization Project” that interfered in every aspect of Sudanese social life, and placed restrictions on long entrenched traditional norms such as, private parties with music; mixing between the sexes and the making and consumption of alcohol among other things. 

However, no other aspect of the Public Order Regime has altered the daily lives of Sudanese women like Article 152 of the Criminal Act of 1991 that says: “(1) Whoever commits, in a public place, an act, or conducts himself in an indecent manner, or a manner contrary to public morality, or wears an indecent, or immoral dress, which causes annoyance to public feelings, shall be punished, with whipping, not exceeding forty lashes, or with fine, or with both; (2) The act shall be deemed contrary to public morality, if it is so considered in the religion of the doer, or the custom of the country where the act occurs.”

Legal challenges in implementing Article 152

Human rights lawyers have consistently pointed out that Article 152 is vague and does not define what is meant precisely by indecent clothing or indecent behavior. Thus leaving a lot to be interpreted by POP and the Judges in the Public Order Courts.

A prominent human rights lawyer, Nabeel Adeeb, recently commented in an op-ed that,"what is seen by me as indecent attire may be seen by someone else as decent". And adds, that from a religious perspective it's hard to impose one uniform on women because it depends on their personal understanding of their faith. "Judges should not be god's representatives on earth." he says. Clarifying that society's understanding of "decent" attire is a constantly shifting concept, and Sudan's diversity makes this even more complex and a matter that should not be decided in the courts. "It is an issue left to families and religious leaders, because it is linked to education and upbringing and not the law," he concludes.

The impact on minorities and women from the peripheries

No national statistics are available to shed light on how many women or men around Sudan are impacted by the Public Order Regime, however in 2008 the head of the Public Order Police in Khartoum said that in that year 41,000 persons were stopped under Article 152 and signed promissory documents “not to wear indecent clothing”.  

Most POL cases are processed quickly in Public Order Courts without the presence of lawyers, with no due process; and with Judges who lack proper legal training.  

Women’s rights activists who have been fighting this law for years, point out that the stigma associated with being arrested by POP drive many women, who are less knowledgeable about their rights and more concerned about their reputation, into accepting summary trials in Public Order Courts where they are often flogged and/or have to pay a bail .  

However, the women most impacted by the POL are not the urban educated women like Amira and Lubna, but rather the thousands of women fleeing conflicts and hard conditions in other regions such as the Nuba Mountains and Darfur, and who have to support their families by working in Khartoum’s informal sector, selling tea, foodstuff or making a local millet-based  beer called marisa.

Monim Adam, a human rights lawyer, says: “this law usually targets women who are poor and from the peripheries”.  He continues to say that, “in most cases these women cannot afford the bail that can go up to $200, and they end up serving prison terms of up to one month. Many of them also endure sexual harassment that  goes as far as rape, from the Public Order Police officers who have limited oversight”.

A prominent case that’s also running in the courts right now is that of Nuba Mountains woman, Awadiya Ajabna who was shot dead in March 2012, when she interfered as POP were harassing her brother, who was sitting outside the family home, and accusing him of being drunk. Ajabna died hours after POP fired shots that also injured her mother and sister. 

This is not the first documented case of death at the hands of POP, as in 2010 a tea lady, Nadia Saboon was fleeing what is referred to as a Kashaa (a raid or sweep) by the POP. Saboon fell on a piece of metal and died due to sustained injury. Raids and confiscations of the equipment of tea ladies by POP are a common practice in Khartoum, and it is done under the premise of “preserving the appearance of the public domain”.  

Sudan has undergone severe limitations on fundamental rights after the separation of South Sudan in July 2011. In the last two years the Islamist regime of Omer Al Bashir has clamped down on freedom of the press, freedom of association and assembly, by closing newspapers and pro-democracy civil society organizations, and violently clamping down on peaceful protest.

Sudan's #PublicOrderLaw Back in the Spotlight

Book Review: My Isl@m: How Fundamentalism Stole My Mind–and Doubt Freed My Soul

A version of this blogpost appeared for: Foreign Policy Magazine 

A new generation of Sudanese are raising their voices to address an issue that’s central to their existence. It’s one that has been taken hostage by the ruling elites, the older generation, and a few academics, but never simplified for public consumption and opened up to wider participation. A debate that has been frozen in time. Namely: the debate on Islam and Identity.

There isn’t a more fitting moment to revisit and open this debate than today, because of its pressing relevance globally and locally--In Sudan, where 24 years of rule by fundamental Islamists led the country to the brink of imminent disintegration and state collapse. And where Islam and the Sudanese identity have been reconstructed through the narrow lens of Arabism and fundamental/political Islam. Hence marginalizing the majority in one of Africa’s most ethnically diverse countries.  

In his first book, that came out last month, entitled: My Isl@m: How Fundamentalism Stole My Mind–and Doubt Freed My Soul, the renowned 26-year-old, Sudanese blogger Amir A. Nasr (otherwise known as “Drima” in the blogsphere), courageously, eloquently and unapologetically asks the tough questions that many choose to lay dormant. In an autobiographical, yet deeply philosophical reflection that’s interwoven with storytelling, Amir goes through a painful and often treacherous journey in search for his “truth.”

Born to Sudanese parents who left Sudan shortly after he was born, in late 1986, Amir’s first stop was Qatar where he received his primary education that included an orthodox and dogmatic version of Islam with a heavy anti-Jewish/anti-Israeli accent. Although his parents are moderate Muslims, his school environment was far from tolerant and did not encourage his persistent questioning that was equated to the work of the devil and weak faith.

When his parents moved to Malaysia, Amir was placed in a Western International school where all his presumptions about his identity and the Islam he has been taught so far are put to the test. He allegorically refers to his relationship with Islam as “an arranged marriage” that took place without his consent. It’s a marriage that gradually moves toward divorce and ultimately culminates in reconciliation, at least of a sort.

Amir’s quest for his “truth” was one that primarily focused on empiricism and sound reasoning. One of the first and toughest questions he attempts to answer was, “[H]ow did Islamdom really lose her virtue?” His quest takes him to the ninth century and a war of ideas between two schools of theological philosophy. One that advocated reason, free will and an allegorical reading of sacred texts (Al Mu’tazila); and another that advocated tradition, predestination and a more literal reading of the Qoran (Al Ashariya). Eventually Al Ashariya’s school of thought prevailed because it got supported by the stronger political establishment of the time; and eventually became the predominant mode of thinking about and interpreting Islam. According to Amir, “this would later prove to be politically useful in getting the masses to accept their rulers whether just or unjust”, and to obey without much questioning. This is the Islam we have inherited today.

But his crisis of faith was not the only crisis he experienced. He was also simultaneously obliged to straddle multiple cultures and assimilate the culture of his parents with the cultures he has been immersed in to create what he calls, “a colorful culture of my own”. However, it wasn’t easy to reach that place. The drastic shift in his schooling and cultural surroundings  eventually made Amir feel: “sandwiched between two worlds, between two planes of existence: the Afro-Arab Muslim ingrained within me versus the liberal “Westernized” me. It’s a struggle I woke up to everyday”, he says.  

Feeling utterly lonely, Amir goes on a frantic search for answers in the place that is most natural for his generation to seek answers from: the Internet. Here he stumbles, by coincidence, on the diverse world of the blogosphere and comfortably finds a voice and a community; and starts to blog anonymously for six years where he goes “on a quest to learn and unlearn. To blog and to grow.”

It was in this virtual world of the blogosphere that Amir starts to feel that he is not alone, and that “an intellectual revolution was happening in the Arab blogosphere” where “Arab dissidents and political “heretics” of all stripes were discovering one another online and slowly forming a massive self-organized network”. The Egyptian blogsphere, for example, had prominent voices of dissent who later became known to the rest of the world at the height of the Egyptian revolution, such as activist and blogger, Ala’a Abdul Fatah and the anonymous blogger who went by “Sandmonkey”.

The American-Muslim blogosphere or the “Islamosphere” was another virtual space that was diverse yet accommodated, for the most part, respectful and non-dogmatic debate. This included the Pakistani-American blogger-turned-author Ali Eteraz, who authored a well-known blog at the time; as well as “the Salafis like Umar Lee, the Shia like Aziz Poonawalla, the African Americans like Tariq Nelson, the traditionalists, the modernists, the Sufis, the secularists, and even a few atheists who considered themselves cultural Muslims.”  

Later on, Amir also rabidly consumed content featuring the New Atheists–Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, and Daniel Dennet–and they too had a profound impact on his evolution.

Today, Amir considers himself a “science-affirming mystic.” That is someone who does not take doctrine and dogma seriously and is very critical of them. He puts a lot of emphasis on reason and evidential spiritual experiences of transcendence and their valid transformative effects.

This book is a gift to the generation that grew under the darkness of Sudan’s murderous regime (whether inside or outside Sudan)--the National Congress Party. It is a song to freedom of expression, freedom of thought and critical inquiry; and freedom from organized religion. It will shake the foundations of many Muslims who have never been exposed to Islamic/Eastern and/or Western philosophy; and will create a stir in a closed society like Sudan where the debate on religion, the secular state and identity has been stunned. And where the writings of Sudanese luminaries such as Mahmoud Mohamed Taha and Abdullahi An-Na’im; and more ancient Islamic philosophers such as Ibn Rusd (Averroes) are either banned or accessible to a minority of intellectuals. Although My Isl@m is appearing first in English, there is already interest from readers in the Arab world for an Arabic translation.

Moreover, this book will also resonate regionally and globally. For the countries of the Arab Spring that voted in Islamist regimes who are now clamping down on freedom of expression, this book is a treasure-trove that can equip normal citizens with an accessible counter-dialogue to Islamist rhetoric that populations in Islamic countries are rarely able to respond to, because the way Islam has been taught for centuries neglected reason, and stressed predestination. Hence discouraging questioning and critical thinking.

In My Isl@m, Amir is calling for a “revolt against the abusive dinosaur preachers of our times as required.” He argues for a paradigm shift in the way Islam is taught and understood. And this is a shift where Islam becomes open to reinterpretation, where reason has a higher place; and there is freedom to doubt, to think and even to disbelieve. More importantly, following the footsteps of the Sudanese scholar Abdullahi An-Na’im, he explains in a very accessible manner how Islamic theology isn’t holy or sacred, but is in fact man-made and has developed over time in certain ways due to socio-political factors, among others.

For the West, and its contentious relationship with Islam, My Isl@m offers a possible reconciliation of East and West through an acceptance that the rich philosophical traditions of both worldviews can lead to an “integral Islam” that marries the empirical, the rational and the spiritual. The story is also about the making of a “cosmopolitan” young, culturally muslim man; and how tolerance and empathy are characteristics that can be nurtured through a curious, inquisitive mind and an open heart.

A Khalid Saeed Moment for Sudan?

When I saw the tweet below, with a graphic picture of the 17 year-old Mohamed Abdul Bagi who was killed while participating in a peaceful protest in Om Doum town east of Khartoum last Friday, I couldn't stop myself from thinking, "are we missing an opportunity here, is this a Khalid Saeed moment for Sudan?"....I know Sudan is not Egypt, but still.

This image kept me up at night. This kid could be my neighbor, my cousin, my own son in a decade and half....why isn't there any sort of citizen mobilization to say NO TO POLICE BRUTALITY in Sudan? After all Abdul Bagi was an unarmed citizen protesting peacefully the selling of the land of his people to Arab investors from the Gulf.

Graphic|This boy died of his wounds 2day in #Sudan cus he protested against privatization of his land. CC: Obama#HR twitter.com/3ozaz/status/3…
— Azaz Shami (@3ozaz) April 27, 2013

Police brutality a growing trend

Forget about the bigger banners of regime change. Let's focus on the basic right of coming back home alive after a peaceful protest. 

Attacking (by using tear gas, rubber bullets and live ammunition), killing, torturing and detaining peaceful protestors is becoming a trend in Sudan. It is a tactic of the ruling regime that is systematic and intentional; aimed at suppressing any peacefully organized citizen efforts to demand rights. 

We saw it during the January 30 protests, we saw it during #SudanRevolts; and we saw it again after the protests triggered by the death of the El Gazeira University students in December 2012. 

This list is, off course, longer if we add to it older but equally important incidents of violence against peaceful protestors such as, the massacre of Port Sudan (2005); the massacre of Kajbar (2007); and the events of the Masaweer market in El Fashir. All of them are instances where the government was stealing land or property from the people (or depriving them from the right to economic development) and violently crushing citizen-led peaceful protest. 

This recent incident in Om Doum was no mistake by the locality's police; and if it was they didn't even bother to acknowledge it. The police's report on the events of Om Doum, that came out on April 27, did not mention the death of  Mohamed Abdul Bagi and only acknowledged "minor injuries" of other citizens. This is how insignificant human beings are in Sudan. 

Om Doum stands alone: does it have to be this way? 

Citizens of Om Doum, are angry and bitter and rightly so. They stood to ask for a basic right and were faced with what they described as, "oppressive", "monstrous" and an "excessive use of force" by the police.  

Sadly it seems, that they stand alone in their grief. Other than the display of shock in social media networks that was quickly dissipated and replaced by rumors and more shock by the events in North Khordofan; there hasn't been any show of solidarity on the ground. No peaceful vigils around the country; no national call to bring those responsible to justice. 

When will we stop standing alone? When will we hold hands and break the isolation that we are living in this country of the two niles? This isolation is what is keeping us weak, it is what is making this regime stronger.

A demonstrator in Om Doum, April 26, 2013 

What does this have to do with Khalid Saeed? 

Khalid Saeed was one of the triggers of the Egyptian revolution. He was a small businessman from Alexandria, Egypt who was dragged in June 2010 by the police from an Internet café and beaten to death. Just like Mohamed Abdul Bagi, he was not political, but his beating was in retaliation of his intent to post a video on his blog of the police distributing drugs amongst themselves after a bust on a drug ring.

While his autopsy said that he died chocking on a plastic roll of drugs, a cell phone picture of his battered face circulated on the Internet creating a new wave of anger against police brutality in Egypt. For weeks “silent stands” were organized around the country to express public anger and the story refused to leave the media headlines. This challenged the Egyptian government and in July 2010, the two police officers were charged with illegal arrest (not murder!).

Video: a silent stand organized in Alexandria for Khalid Saeed

Video: Egyptian citizens expressing anger at police brutality following Khalid Saeed's murder

The protests (although small in size) continued at the time when protests were very hard to organize in Egypt, where an emergency law has been in effect since 1981. A YouTube channel and Arabic and English facebook pages were set up for the Khalid Saeed campaign, called "We are All Khalid Saeed"; and a lot of YouTube videos were released and circulated documenting the protests and the citizen’s support. 

On June 25, more than 4000 people participated in a Cairo protest that included Mohammed Al Baradei. Within 6 months of continuos organization around the issue of police brutality the facebook page "we are all Khalid Saeed" had almost half a million followers and was used to organize demonstrations focused on the theme of police brutality.

At first the Facebook page was speaking mainly about police brutality and rights abuses in Egypt. It gradually became a clearing house for information including posting of graphic photos and videos and publishing names of abusive policemen (i.e., publicly naming and shaming the regime).

The "We are all Khalid Saeed" Facebook page made police brutality a public debate. And some human rights activists go as far as saying that this campaign alone was more successful than decades of work by the human rights camp in and outside Egypt working on police brutality and torture. An Egyptian human rights activist at the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights said that the Khalid Saeed campaign was: 

“a breakthrough in the fight against torture. The fact that he [Khalid Saeed] was not a political activist, or a criminal but someone who belongs to the demographic majority of young people has made many youths identify with him.”

In January 2011, the Tunisian revolution gave momentum to an already charged atmosphere in Egypt. The Egyptian civil society had for the last couple of years organized protests in the public holiday marking “policeman’s day”, January 25, and now protests were being called again for that day. 

At this stage the Khalid Saeed Facebook page changed its tone to a much bigger cause: ending the 30-year authoritarian rule in Egypt. The page began calling for a large-scale demonstration in Cairo, on January 25. And it had almost 70,000 people signed up for the protest 4 days before the actual date. The rest is history.

Are the odds against us in Sudan or do we have a "collective cost problem"?

I hear many saying, "the odds are against us in Sudan". There's a long list of excuses: 

As citizens we are disconnected from each other; there is limited access to independent information (or to information in general); weak internet penetration; news via social media reaches a very small minority; and the Sudanese street is not ready and has no trust in the message of peaceful social change through civil disobedience and protests. 

It is true that access to information and informed citizens are key for social mobilization. However, we should not underestimate the power of spreading information through face-to-face communication and/or word of mouth. In other words: old fashion grass-roots organization. 

Zeynab Tufeci, a sociologist who studied a sample of 1050 people who were in Tahrir square on January 25, 2011; asked where the protestors had heard of the protest and 50 percent said by word of mouth; while 20 percent said it was through facebook. 

Tufeci's analysis also shows that the reason dictators in the Middle East did not fall earlier was due to a "collective cost problem", meaning that citizens were not collaborating effectively because they perceived the costs to be too high (torture, detention, censorship, restricted organization etc.). And this "collective cost problem" was the key factor in allowing authoritarian regimes to endure for decades. 

Mobilizing and organizing are not the same thing

Yes, the Sudanese "street" has no trust in calls for regime change; and that's because there's never been a sustained dialogue with the street nor a attempt to win it over. 

Change cannot come from youth, students and online campaigning alone. And change under the banner of calls for over-throwing the regime have failed at attracting normal citizens and the critical masses needed for peaceful regime change. 

Apolitical citizens care about bread and butter issues. They care about the collapsing public services (health, education, water, housing). And there has never been sustained campaigns and on-the-ground community organizing with specific demands linked to those services. 

Organizing is about building long-term relationships based on strong networks and tightly knit communities that share common values. It is about investing in people and leadership through coaching, mentoring and training. All this eventually leads to commitment and the will to act or to mobilize. The move from actual organizing to mobilizing can take anywhere from months to years.  

Marshall Ganz, the community organizer and academic expert in political organization describes this process as follows: 

"  Organizers challenge people to act on behalf of shared values and interests. They develop the relationships, understanding and action that enable people to gain new understanding of their interests, new resources, and new capacity to use these resources on behalf of their interests...Organizers focus on the taking of responsibility to act. Empowerment for a person begins with taking responsibility." 

We often confuse mobilizing with organizing in Sudan, but there seems to be no short cuts here. We need to do our homework and get our hands dirty with real on-the- ground organization.