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There is a growing sense of acceptance for the individual in parts of the Arab world primarily as a
result of social media and information through the Internet. A specific illustration is the mirrorlike
function of having a Facebook page. Facebook operates in several ways—as a platform to allow for
individual expression as well as to undermine the powerful mechanisms traditionally operating on
our youth. It creates a space for the individual to look at his or her page as an expression of
themselves. The paucity of photographs or videos and links on one’s page is a reflection, in a way, of
the emptiness or fullness of that person’s life. There is a compulsion set in motion to fill the space
with yourself. This is then compounded by the ability to attract friends to look at your page and
provide commentary on your content. And last, it provides you the autonomy to determine your
accessibility or your privacy, to limit or expand audiences, to be how you want to be without fear of
repercussions. These are powerful mechanisms within the reach of any child in the Arab and Muslim
worlds and therefore are to be regarded as a vital antidote to the manipulative and fundamentalist
mechanisms devouring our youth.
Growing up, before Facebook, the advice I would often hear was to “be yourself.” This advice is
powerful but empty at the same time. Had I known what “myself” was, it would have been easier to
be it. The advice may be better expressed: find yourself, look for yourself, discover yourself, shape
yourself, fill the gaps of yourself, draw clearer lines around the areas of yourself that you recognize,
discipline yourself, and test yourself.
Every young Muslim should demand his or her right to discover the world and himself or herself,
using the tools of self-knowledge and self-mastery.
I would hope that it becomes clear that the ownership of one’s self in today’s world means that you
engage with today’s world. The dominant narratives demand that we reject today’s world (as if it can
be rejected) and embrace an ancient world that exists mostly in our imagination. We are led to read
select texts that are presented in a language far from the language that we use in our daily lives. You
know that there is a significant difference between what is known as Classical Arabic, based on the
language of the Quran, and the dialects of spoken Arabic, which differ greatly from one to the other.
True, these texts form a core part of our history, but it is an untreated history, an unquestioned
history, an unexplored history, and, very likely, an incomplete history. In a sense, it is like asking
Londoners to live like the class of barons under King Henry VIII—and only like that class.
Even if the idea of living according to the standards of sixteenth-century court politics is
acceptable, we need to remember there were many other types of living at that time. Not everyone
was a baron, just as not everyone in our distant past was a warrior for Islam. There were all types of
people who performed all sorts of functions. Discounting such elements of our history will distort
reality and impede individuals from taking the paths appropriate to their own circumstances.
This is a major problem for you and your generation. It makes it difficult to think of being a
Muslim with your own identity, your own personality and preferences. It makes it easier for others to
tell you that you do not have a right to be an individual who is special in his or her own right. The
stories you are exposed to give you the impression that the only way you can be a proper Muslim, in