The Gradual Fade

Ramadan has passed, and as we return to the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, we may begin to notice the focus and consistency we experienced during the blessed month gradually fading. Perhaps we stop praying tahajjud, or forget to read the Quran for a few days, or pass an entire week without visiting the masjid, except for Jum’ah.

During Ramadan, we became more conscious of Allah—more aware of His mercy, more hopeful in His forgiveness, and more observant to His presence. Our days were shaped by fasting, our nights illuminated by prayer, and our hearts were tranquil with the remembrance of Allah.

As we return to the rhythm of everyday life, the challenge before us is to preserve the awareness of Allah that Ramadan nurtured within us. Ramadan was never meant to be restricted to a single month; rather, it was meant to cultivate a lasting consciousness of Allah that continues to guide our hearts long after the month has passed.

Allah calls us in the Qur’an to reflect:

“O mankind! What has deceived you concerning your Lord, the Most Generous?” (Qur’an 82:6)

This verse invites us to pause and ponder over the nature of our relationship with Allah. In the busyness of everyday life, we can become consumed with responsibilities and distractions, yet as believers we are continuously called to reconnect with our Lord with awareness, humility, and hope. Our connection to Allah is not meant to fluctuate with changing circumstances; rather, it is meant to remain a constant source of guidance and stability.

Reconnecting to Allah Through His Names

One of the greatest ways Allah has made Himself known to us is through His Beautiful and Majestic Names. Allah says:

“To Allah belong the most beautiful names, so call upon Him by them.” (Qur’an 7:180)

Through His Names, Allah makes Himself known to us as the Most Merciful, the Most Generous, the All-Knowing, the Most Gentle, the One who forgives, the One who guides, the One who restores what is broken, and the One who is always close to those who call upon Him.

It is through His Beautiful and Majestic Names that we feel His presence in moments of strength and in moments of weakness, in times of clarity and in times of uncertainty. One of the best ways we remain connected to Allah beyond Ramadan is by knowing Him and living with His Beautiful Names.

Al-Ghaffār & Al-Ghafūr — The One Who Forgives

When a person recognises that Allah is Al-Ghaffār and Al-Ghafūr — the One who forgives repeatedly, and whose mercy is vast beyond measure— the heart finds reassurance that returning to Allah is always possible. No matter how many times a person stumbles, the door to Allah’s forgiveness remains open.

Allah reassures us in the Qur’an:

“Do not despair of the mercy of Allah. Indeed, Allah forgives all sins.” (Qur’an 39:53)

The Prophet ﷺ reminded us:

“All of the children of Adam sin, and the best of those who sin are those who repent.” (Tirmidhi)

These reminders teach us that mistakes are not barriers between us and Allah; rather, they can become means of turning back to Him with greater sincerity and humility. Knowing Allah as Al-Ghaffār and Al-Ghafūr allows us to move forward with hope, trusting that Allah’s mercy is always greater than our shortcomings.

As human beings, we are prone to error, yet we are never taught to despair of Allah’s mercy. Rather, we are reminded that Allah loves those who turn to Him in repentance. Allah says:

“Indeed, Allah loves those who constantly repent.” (Qur’an 2:222)

Knowing Allah as Al-Ghaffār and Al-Ghafūr reassures the heart that even when we fall short, the door to our Lord remains open, and His mercy is always greater than our sins.

Al-Qarīb — The One Who Is Near

Another way we remain connected to Allah is through recognising that He is Al-Qarīb — the One who is always near. Even when Ramadan has passed, the believer is reminded that closeness to Allah is not restricted to a particular time or place.

Allah says:

“When My servants ask you concerning Me, indeed I am near.” (Qur’an 2:186)

This verse reminds us that Allah’s nearness is constant. Whether we turn to Him in remembrance, in duʿā’, or in moments of quiet reflection, we are reminded that Allah is fully aware of us and always listens.

Knowing that Allah is near encourages us to continue turning to Him consistently, allowing the connection nurtured in Ramadan to continue throughout our lives.

Allah’s Nearness in Times of Hardship

This awareness of Allah’s nearness was deeply rooted in the life of the Prophet ﷺ. During the Hijrah, when the Prophet ﷺ and Abu Bakr were hiding in the cave while being pursued, Abu Bakr feared that they would be found. The Prophet ﷺ reassured him with words that continue to bring comfort to believers:

“Do not grieve; indeed Allah is with us.” (Qur’an 9:40)

The Prophet ﷺ also experienced Allah’s nearness in moments of deep hardship. After being rejected in Ṭā’if, he turned to Allah with a heartfelt supplication, expressing his weakness and complete reliance upon his Lord. In this moment of deep pain and rejection, the Prophet ﷺ demonstrated that even when people abandon us, Allah is always near and fully aware of every struggle.

These moments remind us that the believer is never without support. The One who was near to the Prophet ﷺ in the cave, and near to him in Ṭā’if, remains near to those of us who turn to Him today.

Knowing Allah as Al-Qarīb transforms how we experience difficulty. In moments of loneliness, we are reminded that we are not alone. In moments of uncertainty, we find comfort in knowing that Allah is aware of every difficulty we are facing. Turning to Allah regularly nurtures a sense of reassurance, strengthening the believer’s trust that Allah is always present and attentive.

Al-Hādī — The One Who Guides

As we continue seeking closeness to Allah, we also acknowledge our need for guidance. The quest to remain consistent and sincere often brings an awareness that the heart requires guidance in order to stay firm. In these moments, we turn to Allah as Al-Hādī — the One who guides hearts and gently leads us towards what is good.

The Prophet ﷺ would frequently supplicate:

“O Turner of hearts, keep my heart firm upon Your religion.”

This supplication reminds us that steadfastness is not attained through our own efforts alone; rather, it is a gift from Allah. The believer therefore continues to seek His guidance, asking Allah to keep the heart sincere, firm, and aligned with what is pleasing to Him.

Knowing Allah as Al-Hādī reassures us that guidance is ongoing. Allah continues to guide those who turn to Him, opening paths for growth, strengthening faith, and nurturing a deeper awareness of Him.

Through these Beautiful and Majestic Names, we begin to understand that our relationship with Allah is not confined to a particular time or season. Rather, every stage of life becomes an opportunity to know Him more deeply and to strengthen our connection with Him.

Turning to Allah Through Duʿā

Recognising Allah through His Beautiful and Majestic Names naturally transforms the way we turn to Him. The more we come to know Allah as the One who forgives, the One who is near, and the One who guides, the more our hearts learn to rely upon Him. The believer does not merely learn the Names of Allah, but lives through them—calling upon Allah with hope, humility, and trust.

The Prophet ﷺ reminded us that duʿā’ is worship. One of the most powerful expressions of our connection to Allah is to call upon Him through the very Names by which He has made Himself known to us.

Call Upon Allah In Every State

As we come to know Allah through His Beautiful and Majestic Names, turning to Him in duʿā’ becomes a natural expression of our relationship with Him. The believer calls upon Allah in every state — in hope, in need, in gratitude, and in moments of quiet reflection — recognising that the heart is always in need of its Lord.

O Allah, allow our hearts to remain connected to You beyond Ramadan. Do not allow the sweetness of drawing near to You to fade from our hearts, and do not allow us to return to heedlessness after You have allowed us to taste the sweetness of closeness to You.

O Allah, You are Al-Ghaffār and Al-Ghafūr, the One who forgives again and again, whose mercy encompasses all shortcomings. Forgive us for our mistakes and do not allow our sins to distance us from You. Let our shortcomings become a means of returning to You with humility, sincerity, and hope.

O Allah, You are Al-Qarīb, the One who is near. Allow us to feel Your nearness in our lives, and make us among those who remember You often. When we feel distracted or distant, gently bring our hearts back to You.

O Allah, You are Al-Hādī, the One who guides hearts. Keep our hearts firm upon Your guidance, and allow the sincerity we experienced in Ramadan to continue shaping our intentions, our actions, and our choices.

O Allah, allow this journey to You to continue throughout our lives. Strengthen our remembrance of You, increase us in awareness of You, and draw our hearts closer to You through Your Beautiful and Majestic Names.

Āmīn, Allāhumma Āmīn.

Related:

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The post Beyond Ramadan: Connecting to Allah Through His Beautiful and Majestic Names appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Read Part 1

6. The Ka’bah Was Seized in a Modern Armed Uprising

People sometimes imagine Makkah existing outside of history. It is seen as a place of peace, stability, and timeless ibadah. But Makkah has experienced moments of profound upheaval, including in the modern era.

I know this from personal experience. I went to ‘Umrah in early 1980, when I was a young teenager, and was stunned to see the minarets of Masjid Al-Haram heavily damaged by artillery fire and bullets. There were bullet holes in the Ka’bah itself, and Zamzam in particular was a mess, with the ground and walls chewed up by weapons fire.

Say what? You haven’t heard about this before? It’s surprising how few Muslims are aware of this incident. It began on the morning of November 20, 1979, the first day of the Islamic year 1400. An armed group of 200 men led by Juhayman al-Otaybi seized Masjid al-Haram. The militants smuggled weapons into the sanctuary, locked the gates, and declared that one of their members was the Mahdi whose coming was predicted by the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. Thousands of worshippers were trapped inside.

The militants believed that an army would come to defeat the Mahdi, and Allah would cause the earth to open up and swallow them, whereupon the Mahdi would usher in an Islamic golden age.

That is not what happened.

What followed was a tense and violent standoff that lasted for approximately two weeks. Saudi forces initially struggled to retake the masjid. Fighting inside the sacred precinct was unprecedented and deeply shocking to the Muslim world.

Smoke rises during the battle for Masjid Al-Haram in November 1979.

Eventually, the Saudi authorities regained control. Reports from multiple sources indicate that specialized assistance was brought in, including support from Pakistani forces. There was also controversy surrounding the involvement of French advisors. Because non-Muslims are not permitted to enter the Haram, it was stated that those involved formally converted to Islam before participating, though details vary across accounts.

The rebels made their last stand in Zamzam, and were eventually rooted out. 117 rebels were killed in the battle, 69 were executed, and 19 received jail sentences.

Without diminishing the horror of that event, I will say that although I was surprised to see the damage wrought upon the masjid, that is not what impressed me the most. Rather, I will never forget praying in front of the Ka’bah, seeing knots of Quran students gathered in circles, worshipers praying quietly, cats freely roaming the grounds, and eating the best shawarma sandwich of my life across the street from the masjid.

Across centuries and empires, beyond strife and struggle, the house of Allah still stands. The religion of Allah is still practiced, and people still come from all over the world to perform the rites taught to us by our Prophet ﷺ.

7. Makkah Produces Almost No Food

Makkah has never been a place of agriculture.

In the Qur’an, Prophet Ibrahim makes a dua as he leaves his family in the valley of Makkah:

“Our Lord, I have settled some of my descendants in a valley without cultivation near Your Sacred House…” (14:37)

This is not poetic language. It is a literal description. Makkah is a barren valley, surrounded by rocky hills, with little capacity for farming.

Historically, this shaped everything about the city. The people of Makkah could not rely on agriculture for survival. Instead, they turned to trade. The great caravan journeys of Quraysh, to Yemen in the winter and Syria in the summer, were not simply a means of wealth, but of necessity. Food, goods, and supplies had to be brought in from elsewhere.

Unlike Madinah, which had date groves and agriculture, Makkah depended on what it could import.

In this, very little has changed.

A cold storage food warehouse in Saudi Arabia.

Today, Makkah still produces almost no food of its own. Yet it feeds millions of residents and pilgrims every year. Food arrives constantly, transported across vast distances. Nearly two million tons of rice are imported into Saudi Arabia from South Asia each year, along with meat from Brazil, produce from Egypt and Jordan, grains from the USA and Europe, and so on. During Hajj alone, hundreds of thousands of tons of food are consumed, supplied through a vast global network.

It might seem strange that a barren valley with no natural resources should become the spiritual center of a global religion. Yet that very barrenness protected Makkah historically. Unlike other regions of Arabia, it was not conquered by the Romans or Persians, for why invade a land without resources?

As a result, Islam emerged among a people who were independent, resilient, and unruled by imperial authority. There was no empire to overthrow and no central government to dismantle. When Islam came, it did not replace a system. It built one.

As always, Allah guides events according to a wisdom that we do not see.

8. Makkah Is Overwhelmingly a City of Outsiders

At any given time, 40 to 50 percent of Makkah’s residents are non-citizens.

Every year, that number swells dramatically as millions of pilgrims arrive to perform Hajj and ‘Umrah. But beyond the pilgrims, there is another population that is less visible but just as essential.

Like many global cities that depend on migrant labor, Makkah’s population includes people from a wide range of backgrounds. This includes Indonesian and Malaysian hotel staff, Pakistani and Bangladeshi construction workers, Yemeni and Syrian shopkeepers, Egyptian and Sudanese teachers and administrators, and African and South Asian drivers and service workers.

Some come with professional skills and build stable lives. Others work long hours in low-wage jobs that are essential to the functioning of the city. Construction workers labor in intense heat. Cleaners and maintenance staff work overnight shifts to keep the Haram and surrounding areas spotless. Drivers spend long hours on the road moving pilgrims from place to place.

Many of these laborers live in shared or crowded housing, and their legal status is often tied to their employers, limiting their ability to change jobs or leave the country without permission. Their circumstances are often demanding and even oppressive, to such a degree that human rights organizations have reported on this issue.

These working conditions are common in all the Gulf nations. Without these workers, these oil-rich nations could not survive. Yet is it too much to ask for justice in the holy lands of Islam?

Migrant laborers in Saudi Arabia

Walk through the streets of Makkah and you will hear Urdu, Bahasa Indonesia, Hausa, Turkish, Arabic in many dialects, and dozens of other languages.

In this sense, Makkah is not a typical city. It does not belong to a single people or culture. It is a meeting place of the Ummah.

9. The Expansion of the Haram Has Erased Entire Neighborhoods

Over the past century, the expansion of the Haram and the redevelopment of central Makkah have led to the demolition of entire neighborhoods.

Obviously, as the population grows, the city must grow. However, many historically significant sites associated with the earliest period of Islam have disappeared.

Among the sites that have been lost are the home of Khadijah bint Khuwaylid, where the Prophet ﷺ lived for many years, as well as Dar al-Arqam, one of the earliest places where Islam was taught in secret, which now lies within the expanded structure of Masjid al-Haram. The house associated with Abu Bakr al-Siddiq is also reported to have been built over as part of a hotel development.

Nor is this limited to the earliest Islamic period. The Ajyad Fortress, an Ottoman-era citadel that stood for over two centuries overlooking the Haram, was demolished in 2002 to make way for the Abraj Al Bait complex, whose towers now dominate the skyline above the sanctuary.

The Ajyad Fortress, built in 1777 by the Ottomans, was demolished in 2002.

Entire districts that once surrounded the Haram have been cleared and replaced with hotels, commercial centers, and infrastructure designed to accommodate the growing number of pilgrims.

The result is that many physical traces of early Islamic history are no longer visible or accessible. Heritage organizations and historians have repeatedly raised concerns about the pace and scale of redevelopment in Makkah, noting that the loss of these sites represents an irreversible break with the physical legacy of early Islam.

This raises an important question. When you visit Makkah, would you rather see the places where the sahabah lived and walked, or rows of generic hotels that could stand in any city?

This does not mean that all traces of early Islamic history have vanished. Important sites such as Jabal al-Nour, where the first revelation descended, and Jabal Thawr, where the Prophet ﷺ and Abu Bakr al-Siddiq (ra) took refuge during the Hijrah, still stand. The plains of Mina, Arafat, and Muzdalifah continue to host the rites of Hajj as they have for centuries. And at the center of it all, the Ka’bah remains, unchanged in its significance, drawing millions of hearts toward it every year.

Even so, what has been lost cannot be replaced. And what remains should remind us of the importance of preserving what we still have.

10. Zamzam: A Well That Has Flowed for Thousands of Years

In a barren valley with no natural rivers or agriculture, one of the most remarkable features of Makkah is a single well that has sustained life for thousands of years.

The well of Zamzam, located within Masjid al-Haram, has flowed continuously since the time of Ibrahim عليه السلام and his son Ismail عليه السلام. According to Islamic tradition, when Hajar was left in the desert with her infant son, she ran desperately between the hills of Safa and Marwah in search of water. In response to her faith and perseverance, Allah caused water to spring forth from the ground beneath Ismail’s feet.

That spring became Zamzam.

To this day, the well continues to produce water at a rate estimated between 11 and 18.5 liters per second. It supplies millions of pilgrims every year, yet it has never run dry.

Modern studies have found that Zamzam water is naturally filtered through layers of rock and sand, and contains a distinct mineral composition. But beyond the physical explanation lies something greater. For over four thousand years, this well has continued to flow in one of the driest regions on earth, sustaining a city that produces almost no water of its own. Is this anything but a miracle? It is a sign from the signs of Allah, and a blessing to the children of Ibrahim.

The Messenger of Allah ﷺ highlighted Zamzam’s special status. As reported by Ibn Abbas:

“The best water on the face of the earth is Zamzam water. In it is food for nourishment and healing for illness.”

By the way, if you’ve never been to Makkah, you might imagine Zamzam as an old fashioned well with a bucket going up and down. Or a spring, with water pouring from a mountainside. That was what I thought before my first visit as a teenager. That was true in the past, but Zamzam is now controlled through a modern water system. The water is treated using standard methods, then channelled through pipes. But it’s the same blessed water.

In fact, for the believer, Zamzam is more than water. It is a reminder that provision comes from Allah in ways that defy expectation. In a place where survival should have been impossible, Allah placed a source of life that has endured across millennia.

Every cup of Zamzam carries that history.

* * *

Reader comments and constructive criticism are important to me, so please comment!

See the Story Index for Wael Abdelgawad’s other stories on this website.

Wael Abdelgawad’s novels – including Pieces of a Dream, The Repeaters and Zaid Karim Private Investigator – are available in ebook and print form on his author page at Amazon.com.

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If Not You, Then Who?

The post 15 Things You Didn’t Know About Makkah and the Ka’bah [Part 2] appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

By Ibrahim Moiz for MuslimMatters

Israel Broadens Its Murderous Assaults

Twenty days into the American-Israeli war on Iran, the conflict has widened to engulf much of the Gulf region as well as the Levant. The Iranian backlash, firing both at Israel and at American targets in the Gulf region and blocking off the crucial straits that lead out of the eponymous Gulf, has crippled international trade and put the Gulf regimes in serious jeopardy.

Israel has added to its genocide of Gaza a murderous assault on Palestinians in the West Bank and yet another brutal invasion of Lebanon. Iraqi militias, which have historically had strong links with both the United States and Iran since the 2003 invasion, have clearly opted for the latter. And finally, the leaderships of both Iran and Israel seem to have taken a hit; longstanding Iranian potentate Ali Ardeshir-Larijani, whose conspicuous defiance of Israel put a target on his back, was killed, while Israel’s prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu-Mileikowsky vanished amid an Iranian missile salvo, with rumors of his possible elimination.

Deadly Deja Vu in Lebanon

As MuslimMatters noted two years ago, Israel has long sought to widen the war to include its regional rival Iran, which it has wrongly blamed for masterminding Palestinian militancy; in fact, Palestinian resistance has continued over the past twenty or so years despite fluctuating links with Iran.

By contrast, the largely Shia militias in Iraq and Lebanon do have close links with Tehran and responded to the provocative American-Israeli attack on Iran by attacking, respectively, American and Israeli targets. In the case of Iraq, this was especially ironic because the militias had historically been involved with both the United States and Iran.

n the case of Lebanon, Hezbollah’s attacks gave the lie to Israeli triumphalism from autumn 2024, which declared the militia essentially knocked out after its founding leaders were killed off along with large numbers of civilians in the Israeli assault of the period. Gloating coverage, not only from Israel but from much of the European and North American press, about Israel’s technological prowess and checkmate seems to have been woefully premature.

Lebanon’s Fragile Political Balance

The 2024 Israeli attack ushered in what was widely seen as a pro-American government in Lebanon, with former army commander Joseph Aoun in the presidency and Nawaf Salam as prime minister; in accordance with American wishes, the Lebanese government had distanced itself from Hezbollah even as Israel’s repeated provocations in the south made such a stance increasingly tenuous. Always close to Tehran, Hezbollah responded to Israel’s attacks on Iran with its own salvo, prompting the Israeli army to wade north into Lebanon yet again.

Echoes of the 2006 War

In one respect, the 2025–26 shift in Lebanon resembles events twenty years earlier, when a pro-American cabinet voted in during 2005 was subsequently left high and dry when Israel invaded the south in 2006. It was during that war that Israel coined the so-called “Dahiye doctrine,” named for the suburb that it attacked, as a euphemism for an unabashedly brutal assault of the sort that so often typifies Israeli warfare; the same suburb is under attack today.

In 2006, Hezbollah enormously bolstered its prestige by withstanding a pointedly vicious Israeli assault; while 2026 finds Hezbollah generally weaker, it may be expected that it will recover its reputation as defender of Lebanese integrity against a murderous neighbor that has already displaced a fifth of the Lebanese population and used internationally banned weapons such as white phosphorus.

The Gulf between Rhetoric and Reality: America’s Persian Quagmire

If Israel is enjoying another bloody caper in Lebanon, straits are more dire elsewhere. The Gulf states were exposed to their own vulnerability, and the drawbacks of significant American bases, when Iran fired on them. More worrying for the United States, and certainly for Donald Trump’s scrambling regime, is the Iranian chokehold on shipping that exits the Gulf through a strait whence a fifth of the world’s oil supply is shipped.

Ships in the Strait of Hormuz

The ease with which Iran could block the strait was one factor why previous American governments, even the most rabidly pro-Israel among them, had balked at entering the full-scale war with Iran that Israel had constantly advocated. In Trump, a triumphalist dangerously emboldened by his bullying treatment of Venezuela this winter, the Israeli regime seems to have found its man: a braggadocious oaf glad to blunder into a war whose risks he cared not to comprehend, and drag the region down with his fortunes.

Washington’s Scramble

Barely a fortnight after gloating over the ease with which he eliminated Iran’s leadership, Trump and his similarly incompetent military supremo Peter Hegseth, a bloodthirsty buffoon who has constantly branded his wars as crusades against Muslims but balked whenever he receives reminders of the planning and risks such wars actually entail, are scrambling for excuses. Most recently, Trump has lashed out at more cautious Western states for what he sees as insufficient help; this while many European governments, together with Canada and Australia, dutifully condemned Iran’s retaliations, with some even having been involved in the war’s logistics.

Shattered Illusions in the Gulf

While Iran’s strikes toward the Gulf have caused controversy—even Hamas, which has good relations with several Gulf regimes and has been at the frontline of the defense against Israel, advised Tehran to save its ammunition for the enemy—Iranian officials like longstanding regime eminence Ali Ardeshir-Larijani and foreign minister Abbas Araghchi insisted that these exclusively targeted American sites. Whatever the case, the comfortable illusion of Gulf immunity from regional strife, protected under an American military canopy, has been well and truly shattered.

An Iranian Stalwart

Larijani was one of many Iranian leaders to defiantly march in public after the American-Israeli bombardment killed hundreds and draped Tehran in an inferno. He has frequently been described, if with some exaggeration, as Iran’s most powerful leader. This is an exaggeration; Mojtaba Khamenei replaced his slain father Ali as Iran’s supremo this month, while Masoud Pezeshkian leads a triumvirate with at least symbolic importance—but it does accurately reflect Larijani’s longstanding centrality in the Iranian system.

Ali Ardeshir-Larijani

The son of cleric Hashim Ardeshir, Ali Ardeshir-Larijani had one brother, Sadegh, who was a chief justice throughout the 2010s, and another, Javad, who deputized for the judiciary. His father-in-law was Morteza Motahhari, who had co-founded the clerical republic in the 1979 revolution, and his maternal cousin Ahmed Tavakkoli, a conservative former minister and presidential runner-up. Like many Iranian leaders, Ali had both an activist and an intellectual background, having studied and written on European philosophy before becoming a generally conservative statist in Iranian politics. His many roles in the Iranian regime since the 1980s included, most prominently, serving as parliamentary speaker through the 2010s.

Defiance and Death

A stalwart of the Iranian state, Ali had immediately responded to the American-Israeli aggression with pointed, acerbic defiance and chided other Muslim countries for insufficient solidarity. Remarkably, given the blaze that Hegseth had unleashed upon Tehran, he also took to the streets in an enormous protest, featuring many Iranian citizens and leaders alike, remarkable for its lack of fear. It was perhaps no surprise when he was killed. Also slain was Gholam-Reza Soleimani, who led Iran’s paramilitary security and had been a soldier since his teen years in the 1980s Gulf war against Iraq.

Dead or Alive?

Many Iranian leaders, then, have been killed in the last year, but given the notoriously leery nature of their Israeli counterparts, it came as more of a shock when Benjamin Netanyahu-Mileikowsky, the genocidal arsonist who had lit the region ablaze and for decades incited American wars throughout the Muslim world to complement his own, disappeared amid a hail of Iranian missiles. Eventually, videos resurfaced that purported to show him alive at a café, but these videos had an eerily uncanny appearance that raised wide-ranging suspicions that they had been generated by artificial intelligence technology. These suspicions were so widespread that they even made their way into American newspapers that have become notorious for their partiality toward Israel. Whatever the truth of the matter, it is perhaps fitting that a murderous dissembler whose career has been based on lies and mass murder now has doubts raised about his purported proof of life.

Ground Zero in Palestine

What will doubtless cheer up the Israeli regime is that their wars with Iran, Lebanon, and other countries have diverted attention from Palestine. This month, the Israeli military and settlers set about attacking the West Bank, an area where Hamas is almost absent but which has long been a target of ethnic cleansing efforts. They descended in an orgy of violence, burning dwellings while lynching and expelling Palestinians. The Aqsa Mosque, Islam’s third holiest site, which Israel’s ruling party has often threatened to excavate, has been shut off entirely by Hisham Ibrahim, its ironically named Israeli prefect.

Collapse of the Ceasefire

Meanwhile, any pretense of a ceasefire in Gaza, about which Trump made such a boastful song and dance, has long since reached the point of sick parody. Hundreds of Palestinians have been killed since, and the blockade has tightened to the point that the vast majority of basic goods have been shut off. In characteristic dissimulation, the Israeli regime claims that Gaza has a surplus; in fact, according to independent reports, less than a third of the strip’s basic needs were met before the blockade again tightened.

Dr. Alaa Talks About Life Under Siege

MuslimMatters managed to get in touch with Doctor Alaa, a Palestinian radiologist who has been raising his toddler son alone since his wife was killed in the genocide and has personally taken on the burden of eight orphans whom he has helped shelter and fund since.

Alaa and his wife had originally taken in three families, but she and the other parents were killed in an Israeli attack, leaving him to raise their children. Though straitened circumstances mean that he directly supports three orphans as well as his son, he continues to fund the other orphans, who are living with other Palestinians, with the assistance of donations.

Dr. Alaa’s orphans

The doctor’s tone in general was despondent, but he gave a succinct, if dispiriting, summary of life under siege: “staying together in a tent without any income and without any dreams that we can leave this place as soon as possible.”

The ceasefire, he noted, had only slightly abated the rate of Israeli bombardment: “The situation since ceasefire is same, maybe it’s worse for the daily living…every day they strike somewhere…the siege around Gaza, they’re still surrounding Gaza, and most of the goods are not allowed to come in.”

“The People in Gaza Feel More Suffering Now”

Food and shelter are terribly low. “They stopped providing the food for people,” Dr. Alaa said, , and long time ago they stopped providing the tents for people. From my experience, I couldn’t get a tent easily, and lastly, when the storm starts, all the tents are destroyed.”

Some of the Gaza orphans that Dr. Alaa helps.

Israel’s unprovoked attack on other countries has not eased the situation. “The situation since Iran war is really very bad, because the fuel, the prices, the goods, all jump,” Dr. Alaa explained. “The people in Gaza feel more suffering now, because they don’t have any income and the siege is still very strong around Gaza.” One side effect of the Iran war was to help Israel divert attention from the genocide in Gaza. “So the people here feel that they are all alone and everybody abandoned Gaza.”

If you want to help Dr. Alaa in his mission to care for the Gaza orphans, you can donate here.

Related:

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Op-Ed: From Pakistan To Gaza – Why Senator Mushtaq Ahmad Khan Terrifies Power And Zionism

The post Widening Wars Leave the Middle East in Shambles appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

A Complex History

Most of us think we know Makkah. It is the holiest city in Islam, the direction of our prayers, and the destination of Hajj. We picture the Ka’bah surrounded by worshippers, the call to prayer echoing through the sacred precinct.

But beneath that familiar image lies a history that is far more complex, and at times surprising. Makkah has been a place of upheaval and renewal, of trade and transformation, of loss, resilience, and immense mercy.

Here are fifteen things you may not know about Makkah and the Ka’bah.

1. The descendants of Ismail were once driven out of Makkah

As you may know, after Hajar and Ismail were blessed with the water of zamzam, a passing Yemeni tribe settled in the oasis. This tribe was called Jurhum. Ismail married into Jurhum, and from their descendants came several Arab tribes, including the Quraysh.

You may have thought that the descendants of Prophet Ismail (as) remained in the valley of Bakkah (which became Makkah) continuously until the time of our Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. That is not the case.

Classical sources describe Jurhum’s rule over Makkah as lasting many generations, and possibly centuries, before their decline. As one traditional account states:

“When the misdeeds of Jurhum in the sacred land grew worse… Khuza’a arose against them… and expelled them from the Ka’bah.” (Al Bidaayah Wan Nahaayah, Ibn Kathir).

Their offenses are described in stark terms: mistreatment of pilgrims, misuse of the sanctuary’s wealth, and violations of its sanctity. Another early account notes that they began to ill-treat visitors to the Sacred House and unlawfully appropriate its resources, provoking resentment and ultimately rebellion.

The tribe of Khuzaa’, which had settled nearby after migrating from Yemen, led the uprising. After defeating Jurhum, they expelled them from Makkah and assumed control of the Ka’bah. Some reports state that Jurhum, upon their expulsion, buried treasures in the Zamzam well before departing.

But the transformation did not end there.

During the rule of Khuzaa’, a deeper shift took place – this time in religion. According to Ibn Ishaq and later scholars such as Ibn Kathir, their leader ‘Amr ibn Luhayy traveled to the Levant, where he encountered the idol worship of the powerful Amalkites. Impressed by what he saw, he brought back an idol called Hubal and placed it near the Ka’bah, instructing the people to venerate it. This was the first appearance of idol worship in Arabia.

Ibn Ishaq records that ‘Amr:

“brought back with him an idol called Hubal and set it up in the Ka’bah, commanding the people to worship it.”

Over time, this opened the door to widespread idol worship in Makkah, with idols multiplying in and around the sanctuary.

Khuzaa’s rule lasted for several centuries before the Quraysh rose to prominence and took control of Makkah in the 5th century CE, restoring custodianship of the Ka’bah to the lineage of Ismail.

What makes this episode so striking is not merely the shift in power, but the reason for it. Custodianship of the Sacred House was never guaranteed. It could be lost through corruption, injustice, and the betrayal of the sanctity it was meant to protect. That is something for the current custodians of the holy land to reflect upon.

2. The Ka’bah has been rebuilt and reshaped throughout history

Many people assume that the Ka’bah standing today is exactly the same structure built by Prophet Ibrahim and his son Ismail. In reality, the Ka’bah has been rebuilt multiple times over the centuries.

According to early historians such as Ibn Ishaq, one of the most significant reconstructions occurred when the Quraysh rebuilt the Ka’bah shortly before the prophethood of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. The structure had been weakened and badly damaged, first by a conflagration that spread from a cooking fire, then by a flood. However, resources – particularly timber – were limited. As a result, they reduced its size and left a portion of the original foundation outside the walls (and, as you likely know, the Prophet ﷺ himself replaced the black stone in its niche).

This area is known today as the Hijr of Ismail.

When the Messenger of Allah ﷺ conquered Makkah, he considered restoring the Ka’bah to the full footprint built by Ibrahim, but decided against it, as he himself explained to Aishah in an authentic narration:

“Were it not that your people are recent converts to Islam, I would have demolished the Ka’bah and rebuilt it on the foundation of Ibrahim, and I would have included the Hijr within it.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari)

The Ka’bah was rebuilt again in the first Islamic century by Abdullah ibn al-Zubayr after it was damaged during conflict. Aware of the Prophet’s ﷺ statement, he expanded the Ka’bah to include the Hijr and added a second door at ground level.

However, this change did not last. When the Umayyads regained control, the Ka’bah was altered once more and returned to the earlier Quraysh design.

Even after this, the question remained. Should the Ka’bah be restored to the original foundation of Ibrahim?

During the Abbasid period, Khalifah Harun al-Rashid considered doing exactly that. He consulted Imam Malik ibn Anas, one of the great scholars of Madinah.

Imam Malik advised against it, saying:

“I fear that the Ka’bah will become a plaything for the rulers.”

In other words, if each ruler altered the structure according to his own judgment, the Ka’bah would be repeatedly changed, losing its stability and dignity.

The khalifah accepted this advice, and the structure has remained unchanged since.

In the end, it is not the stones and mortar of the Ka’bah that are sacred, but the site itself. It is the first house of Allah on the earth, and Allah is its protector.

3. The Black Stone was stolen and missing for decades

In the year 930 CE, one of the most shocking attacks in Islamic history took place. A radical sect known as the Qarmatians attacked Makkah during the Hajj season.

The Qarmatians were a militant movement based in eastern Arabia, in the region of Bahrain and al-Ahsa. Classical historians such as al-Tabari and Ibn Kathir describe them as a deviant Ismaili Shiah sect that rejected the Abbasid caliphate and held contempt for mainstream Islam. Under their leader Abu Tahir al-Jannabi, they launched a raid on Makkah, overwhelming its defenders and committing atrocities within the Haram itself.

Pilgrims were killed in large numbers, and the sanctity of the Sacred Mosque was violated. Some historical reports state that bodies were left in the precinct and even cast into the well of Zamzam.

Ibn Kathir records:

“They took the Black Stone and carried it away to their land, and the people were prevented from Hajj for many years.”

The Black Stone was removed and taken to al-Ahsa. It is said that the Qarmations shattered it – although, to be fair, there are also claims that the damage was done centuries earlier, when the Umayyads catapulted missiles at the Ka’bah to try to kill Abdullah ibn Az-Zubayr. Allah knows best.

For more than twenty years, the Black Stone remained with the Qarmatians.

Eventually, in 951 CE, the Stone was returned to Makkah. The exact circumstances of its return are unclear. Some sources suggest political pressure or negotiations. What is certain is that it was restored to its place after more than two decades.

Today, the Black Stone is no longer a single intact piece. It consists of several fragments, set into the Ka’bah and held together within a silver frame by means of a dark resin. Anyone who has seen it up close can observe that it is composed of multiple joined pieces.

This history, however, should not trouble the believer or shake one’s faith in any way.

The Black Stone, though it is said to be a stone from Jannah, is not an object of worship, nor is it central to the fundamentals of Islam. Touching or kissing it is not a requirement of Hajj or Umrah. It is an act of reverence, not obligation.

Our religion does not depend on the physical state of any object.

If the Messenger of Allah ﷺ himself could pass away and leave this world, and the religion of Islam could continue, intact and growing, then the damage or fragmentation of a stone does not affect the truth or strength of our faith.

What this event shows is something else entirely. Even the most sacred objects in Islam have passed through moments of trial. Yet their meaning, and the devotion they inspire, have endured.

4. Makkah was once a major trading hub

If you have visited Makkah’s modern malls, such as the Abraj Al Bait complex or the shopping centers surrounding the Haram, you may think of it as a city of commerce. And in a sense, it is. Its economy today benefits heavily from serving millions of visitors each year.

Abraj Al Bait mall in Makkah

But Makkah was once much more than that.

Long before Islam, it was an international trading hub.

Situated along key caravan routes linking southern Arabia with the Levant, the city became a vital stop for merchants transporting spices, leather goods, textiles, and incense. The Quraysh built their wealth and influence through these trade networks.

This commercial role is alluded to in the Qur’an itself:

“For the accustomed security of Quraysh. Their accustomed security in the caravan of winter and summer…”
(Surat Quraysh 106:1–2)

Classical commentators such as Ibn Kathir explain that these verses refer to the regular trade journeys of Quraysh, who traveled north to Syria in the summer and south to Yemen in the winter, establishing economic prosperity and political alliances.

This trade brought immense wealth to certain Makkan families. Among them was Abdullah ibn Jud’an, founder of the Hilf Al-Fudool, who became famous for his generosity and scale of wealth. Historical reports describe him sending thousands of camels laden with food aid to famine-stricken regions such as Syria.

SubhanAllah. Imagine a desert Arab from a small and remote town, sending such vast aid to lands under the Roman Empire.

This also helps explain the immense wealth later possessed by some of the Sahabah, such as Abdurrahman ibn Awf and Uthman ibn Affan (Allah be pleased with them).

Ibn Ishaq and other early historians describe how Makkah’s status as a sanctuary contributed to its success. Because fighting was prohibited within the sacred precinct, the city functioned as a neutral zone where tribes could meet, trade, and negotiate safely.

In this way, religion and commerce became intertwined. The Ka’bah drew pilgrims, and pilgrims brought trade. This was the world into which Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was born. He himself took part in these trade journeys, traveling north on behalf of Khadijah.

5. One prayer in the Haram equals 100,000 elsewhere

The Prophet ﷺ said that prayer in Masjid al-Haram is worth 100,000 prayers elsewhere. It is a number that is easy to hear, and difficult to truly grasp. A single prayer in Makkah is equal to nearly 55 years of prayer anywhere else. Over the course of Hajj, which lasts about six days, the prayers performed there are equal to more than 1,600 years of prayer.

SubhanAllah!

I made my first Umrah when I was 15 years old. I found Makkah beautiful and fascinating. I remember the crowds, the movement, the sense of something special in the air.

But I did not fully understand it.

At that time, I had not studied the seerah. I could look at the Ka’bah, but I could not see what had transpired there. I did not picture the Prophet ﷺ standing atop Safaa, inviting the people to Islam, and being mocked in response. I did not imagine him being attacked by Abu Jahl or Uqba bin Abi Mu’ayt. I did not picture a young Abdullah ibn Masud (ra) standing in front of the Ka’bah, defiantly reciting Surat Ar-Rahman, and the Quraysh nearly beating him to death for it. I did not see the triumphant moment, years later, when the Muslims returned in victory, and Bilal ibn Rabah (ra) climbed onto the Ka’bah to call the adhan, and the Prophet ﷺ forgave all who had harmed him.

And I did not understand what 100,000 prayers really meant.

When you are young, time feels endless. A number like 100,000 sounds impressive, but abstract. It does not carry weight.

When you are older, you begin to understand time differently. You realize how limited it is. You see how quickly days pass, how years slip by, and how little you are able to do within them. Only then do you begin to grasp what it means for a single prayer to carry the weight of a lifetime.

This is a tremendous expression of Allah’s mercy.

There is a reason why Allah describes Himself as Ar-Rahman and Ar-Rahim. His mercy is vast beyond what we can comprehend. A single act of worship, performed in the right place and with sincerity, can outweigh a lifetime of effort.

At the same time, this mercy is not limited to Makkah.

For those who have not had the opportunity to perform Hajj or Umrah, there is no reason for despair. Allah has opened many doors. The Prophet ﷺ taught that fasting Ramadan with faith and seeking reward is a means for all past sins to be forgiven. And Laylat al-Qadr is described in the Qur’an as “better than a thousand months” (Surat al-Qadr 97:3), which is more than eighty years of worship.

Visiting Makkah and praying in the Haram is one of the greatest of these opportunities. But it is not the only one. Allah’s mercy is not confined to a place. It is available to those who seek it, wherever they are, and no matter their spiritual state.

* * *

Reader comments and constructive criticism are important to me, so please comment!

See the Story Index for Wael Abdelgawad’s other stories on this website.

Wael Abdelgawad’s novels – including Pieces of a Dream, The Repeaters and Zaid Karim Private Investigator – are available in ebook and print form on his author page at Amazon.com.

Related:

You Are Perfectly Created

If Not You, Then Who?

The post 15 Things You Didn’t Know About Makkah and the Ka’bah [Part 1] appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

TabbalAllah minnaa wa minkum saalih al-a’mal – may Allah accept our righteous deeds from Ramadan!

Whether you celebrated on Thursday, Friday, or Saturday, may Allah bless all your families and bring you joy, and let us continue to pray for (and work towards) a liberated Masjid al-Aqsa. Please make du’a for the MuslimMatters team, and our families as well.

If you’re looking for some Eid-related reading material, here’s a mix of old and new!

Selamat Hari Raya! – Celebrating Eid In Malaysia

4 Fun And Easy Eid al-Fitr Activities for Kids

Eid Mubarak! Have the Reward of Fasting 2 Months in Just 6 Days

Eid Gift: Excerpt From ‘When The Stars Prostrated’

Eid Is A Celebration For All: Caring For Families Facing Hospitalization During Eid

Eid Lameness Syndrome: Diagnosis, Treatment, Cure

The post Eid Mubarak from MuslimMatters appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Multigenerational Celebration 

Now that I’m a mother of three primary-school-aged children, it’s up to me and my husband to build positive childhood memories around Ramadan and Eid. The combination of corralling small children to the masjid can be a stress-inducing one. The secret sauce lies in planning for success the night before. We try our best to ensure our kids have an early bedtime, help them set aside their Eid clothes, and wake them up early to get to the masjid.

On top of that is ensuring elderly care is sorted, which means medications are lined up, factoring extra time to help them get in and out of cars, and checking ahead of time that the masjid is accessible. We pack small notes so that our children can give sadaqah at the masjid too. To help them last through the Eid khutbah, I pack snacks and fidget toys. It’s common for generous elders seated near us to give my delighted children Raya packets too. Once we’re back home, then we can give our children their long-awaited Raya packets. This Ramadan, we’ve jumped from one fasting child to three fasting children, alhamdulilah. 

A Month-long celebration

In Malaysia, Eid is celebrated for the entire month, and the lead-up to this is baked into the very fabric of daily life. As we get closer to Eid, the banks here have specific hours every morning allocated to breaking down large notes into smaller notes – perfect for adults to give little children Raya packets.

There are also Raya buffets at restaurants and hotels, and massive sales across any item imaginable – from clothes, to mobile phones and even cars. The danger of this is the risk of falling into the ever-waiting trap of excessive consumerism – even if it’s in the form of a Muslim celebration. Instead of succumbing to every appealing Raya sale, it helps to make mindful purchases, and to remember to give to the less fortunate as well.

Open houses

During the month-long celebration, there is the ubiquitous ‘open house’ where there are invitations to visit each other’s homes for tasty treats and, of course, Raya packets for children. The bulk of the family visits happen during the first week of the Raya break, where priority visits start with the elders in the family. After that, Raya visits are often mostly on the weekend, to cater for working hours. Visits mostly don’t last for very long – usually no longer than one sit-down meal – because there are often many houses to visit! If a family’s current elder is not feeling up for hosting, then younger relatives are always welcome to take turns hosting.

This not only strengthens family ties, but can also double as a wonderful dawah opportunity for non-Muslim friends, neighbours, colleagues and classmates. I have heard so many wonderful stories about non-Muslims embracing Islam after many years of visiting and eating delicious halal food.

Orphanages

There are many opportunities here to give new Eid clothes, other gifts and/or Raya packets to orphaned children and children from marginalized communities. It’s important to build this awareness around the less fortunate from a young age. One way to do that is by bringing children along to these initiatives, and giving them age-appropriate tasks to get them involved. Even more important than that is scheduling in regular charitable acts so children know that sadaqah and compassion are not only isolated to Ramadan – even if the reward is multiplied then. 

School holidays

Even non-Muslim students in public schools come to school dressed in traditional clothing to celebrate Eid before the official start of Eid school holidays. School holidays are specifically designed to give children at least a whole week off to celebrate Eid. Many families use this long break to ‘balik kampung’ or to drive back to their respective hometowns to spend time with their elderly relatives. The only downside is how Malaysian Eid school holidays don’t match up with school holidays in the West, making it challenging to sync visiting times with family members who live abroad.

After growing up in the Western diaspora, where there were no school holidays for Eid and no acknowledgement of Eid in public spaces, it’s thrilling for me to experience the entire country immersed in Eid celebrations. It’s so much fun seeing many Malaysian families wearing the same colours, from parents to children, like matchy-matchy family flags. What I do miss about Eid in Australia is the steady presence of my family and close friends, and the traditions that we shared together: going to our local masjid for Eid prayers, going to a favourite cafe together for breakfast, and hosting Raya open house on the weekends. These traditions were so anchoring, especially while living as a Muslim minority.

Conclusion

There is something so special and joyous about celebrating Eid in a Muslim-majority country. I hope to always be grateful for this blessing, especially for my children, who are experiencing this as their baseline. It’s such a gift for my children to form a strong Muslim identity, where they know that they can take up space, exactly as they are. For Muslim families living in the West, there is still so much you can do to bring Eid traditions to the forefront; these happy memories will help to fortify Muslim children too. 

Related:

– [Podcast] Palestine in Our Hearts: Eid al-Fitr 1445 AH

– Hot Air: An Eid Story [Part 1]

The post Selamat Hari Raya! – Celebrating Eid In Malaysia appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Where is the Ummah?

 – MuslimMatters

Barred from Masjid Al-Aqsa, worshipers pray outside the Old City on Friday morning, the day of Eid.

Israeli forces use stun grenades to prevent Palestinian worshipers from entering the Old City for Eid prayers.

Palestinians gather outside the Old City to pray Eid after being barred by the Israelis from Masjid Al-Aqsa.

The post AL-AQSA IS CLOSED appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

A Troubling Spectacle

A troubling spectacle continues during the nightly prayers of Ramadhan. In Islam’s holiest mosques, supplications lavish praise upon the Saudi ruler, Mohammed bin Salman, and seek divine favour for the strength and victory of the Saudi state and its security forces. Millions of Muslims around the world instinctively respond with “Aameen.” They believe they are participating in devotion. In reality, many are unknowingly affirming prayers that sanctify the ambitions of the Saudi state and its ruler at a moment when that state stands aligned with powers devastating Muslim lands.

The Meaning and Purpose of the Qunoot

Each evening in the month of Ramadan, millions of Muslims stand in prayer during the final phase of the nightly prayer, known as the Witr. In that moment, the imam recites what is called the Qunoot. The word simply means supplication. The imam raises his hands and implores God for mercy, forgiveness, and protection for the community. The congregation responds with a soft but collective “Aameen,” affirming the prayer and making its contents their own. It is a moment meant to embody humility before the Divine. In principle, it is among the most moving practices in the Muslim devotional life. It reminds believers that all authority, all power, and all protection ultimately belong to God alone.

When Supplication Becomes Political Theatre

But segments of the Qunoot have become political theatre. Certain court clerics have transformed the Qunoot into a peculiar spectacle of political flattery. Their supplications have included prayers not only for the Muslim ummah, but for the well-being of the Saudi state and the personal success and triumph of the Saudi rulers. More striking still is the language in which these prayers have been framed. The ruler has been addressed with honorifics such as “Al Amin,” a title intimately associated with the Prophet Muhammad P.B.U.H. himself.

Words shape the moral imagination of believers. In the Islamic tradition, the Prophet was known as Al Amin, the trustworthy, a designation earned through a life of moral credibility long before prophethood was proclaimed. To attach that title to a modern prince presiding over a state of debauchery, spectacle, repression, and geopolitical intrigue where Muslims are being massacred is grotesque clerical flattery bordering on parody. And when millions of Muslims dutifully respond with “Aameen,” they are unknowingly affirming not just devotion but the spectacle itself. They are giving their assent to this sycophancy offered in the language of prayer.

What are Worshippers Affirming?

The supplications have continued with appeals that God strengthen the rulers, grant them victory, empower the Saudi security forces, and preserve the Saudi state from every evil. The congregation of over two million responds with “Aameen.” For countless worshippers, the Arabic phrases are not fully understood. They are participating in an act of devotion and assume that the words being recited reflect the moral spirit of the tradition.

What exactly, then, are Muslims affirming when they say “Aameen”? The modern Saudi state is not an Islamic state. It is a nation state whose ruling order did not arise from Islamic legitimacy but was forged under British patronage and sustained by Western, particularly United States, power. This state claims custodianship of Islam’s holiest places while aligning itself closely with the strategic priorities of the United States and Israel, powers actively engaged in war against Muslims. At the same time, the world watches the devastation of Gaza and the steady seizure of Palestinian land, realities unfolding alongside the strategic partnership linking Saudi Arabia, the United States, and Israel.

Contradictions in Policy and Practice

One hears supplications for the protection of Muslim lands and the strengthening of the faith, while the political alliances of the state reciting those prayers sit comfortably beside the very forces that are devastating Muslim societies. The dissonance is difficult to ignore. Saudi Arabia’s recent trajectory only sharpens the paradox. The kingdom presents itself as the guardian of Islamic orthodoxy, yet it has simultaneously cultivated a political order increasingly defined by grotesque spectacle, wealth, and strategic alignment with Western power. Its rulers preside over a social transformation built around lewd entertainment and luxury while imprisoning scholars whose religious authority might challenge the state. Clerics who dissent disappear into prisons, while clerics who praise the ruler appear on the pulpits of the two holy mosques.

Beyond its borders, the kingdom’s political footprint is equally troubling. Its war in Yemen produced one of the most severe humanitarian catastrophes of the modern era. Its interventions in the politics of Egypt and elsewhere have strengthened authoritarian rule across the Arab world. It has historically encouraged a regional confrontation with Iran, whose consequences now threaten to engulf the entire Middle East. Against this background, the Qunoot sounds less like supplication and more like state messaging delivered through sacred ritual.

Power, Image, and Religious Authority

There is another irony. Mohammed bin Salman is frequently presented, by admirers and critics alike, as though he were a central figure representing the Islamic world. He is not. He is the ruler of a modern nation state that bears the name of his own family. The very designation “Saudi Arabia” is a historical anomaly. The Prophet Muhammad, may Allah give him peace and blessings, did not name Arabia after himself. Nor did the Rightly Guided Caliphs transform the lands of Islam into dynastic brands. Their authority rested on moral example and communal legitimacy. The modern Saudi state rests on oil wealth, security alliances, and the imposition of a ruling family whose name defines the country itself. To call the Saudi ruler “Al Amin” is theological absurdity.

The Weight of Saying “Aameen”

Yet through the symbolism of Mecca and Medina, the Saudi state possesses a unique capacity to project its voice into the devotional life of Muslims everywhere. When the imam in the Grand Mosque raises his hands in supplication, believers instinctively respond “Aameen.” But prayer is not passive. To say “Aameen” is to affirm the words that have been spoken. Muslims, therefore, confront a quiet but profound question. When the Qunoot asks God to grant victory to illegitimate rulers whose policies align them with all kinds of debauchery and vice, the bombardment of Gaza, the dispossession of Palestinians, and the escalation of war against Iran, should believers reflexively echo that prayer?

There is an even more basic issue. Muslims should not be saying “Aameen” to supplications that ask God to strengthen the nation state of Saudi Arabia or its ruler. Saudi Arabia is not an Islamic state. It is a nation state organised around a ruling family and structured primarily to protect the interests of its political and economic elite. The global Muslim community does not owe devotional affirmation to the success of such a state.

Lessons From Islamic Tradition

Islamic history contains many examples of scholars who refused to sanctify temporal power. Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal endured imprisonment rather than submitting to doctrines imposed by the Abbasid state. Jurists across centuries insisted that religion must restrain rulers rather than ornament their authority. Those precedents were not acts of rebellion. They were acts of fidelity.

Preserving the Integrity of Worship

The Qunoot is meant to remind believers of their dependence on God. It is not meant to consecrate the ambitions of princes. When the language of supplication becomes indistinguishable from the language of court praise, the prayer itself loses its moral clarity. Ramadhan is a season of spiritual awakening. It is also a season of moral reflection. The lesson for Muslims is simple but urgent. Devotion must never become a vehicle for the sanctification of power.

And before saying “Aameen,” a believer should always know what they are agreeing to. For in matters of faith, an unthinking “Aameen” can become the quietest form of political consent.

This article is an opinion piece and reflects the views of the author, not necessarily those of MuslimMatters.

Related:

Freedom Of Speech And Protest In Islam: The Distorted Saudi View

What Shaykh Muhammad Al Shareef Taught Us About Making Dua

The post When The Qunoot Becomes Politics: Religious Theater in Saudi Arabia appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

The Answer — What 30 Nights With the Quran Built in Muslim Teenagers

Thirty nights ago, a series began with a question.

Who are you — really — when all the masks are removed? 

Tonight that question receives its answer. And this final guide is for the Muslim parent who wants to understand what their teenager received across this Ramadan — and what your role is now that the series has ended.

What the series built — a parent’s summary 

Across 30 nights, the series addressed the central identity crisis of Muslim teenagers in the West through four consecutive weeks of honest, Quranic, psychologically grounded content.

Week 1 — Identity and Belonging — gave teenagers a theological framework for their dual-world experience. The message: you are not a defective Muslim because you navigate multiple worlds. You are a khalifah placed in a specific context for a specific purpose. Your background, your language, your experience of being between worlds — these are your context, not your disqualification.

Week 2 — Relationships and Boundaries — addressed the relational questions that Islamic content rarely approaches directly: friendships with non-Muslims, attraction, toxic relationships, forgiveness, loneliness. The message: your relationships are not separate from your Islam. They are where Islam is lived most concretely.

Week 3 — Doubt, Faith, and Mental Health — went somewhere that most Islamic youth content refuses to go: depression, grief, shame, addiction, and the feeling that struggling means you are failing at Islam. The message: your struggles are not disqualifications. Every prophet this series introduced struggled. Not despite their prophethood — alongside it. Their humanity serves as a powerful example for us, and how they overcame their struggles gives us the role model and the hope.

Week 4 — Purpose, Legacy, and the Long Game — built a comprehensive framework for a purposeful Muslim life: khalifah as the direction, ummah as the community, ikhlas as the motivation, legacy as the time horizon, taqwa as the foundation, becoming as the process. The message: you are building something right now. Plant it. Carry the bowl. The shade is already needed.

And Night 30 said: all of that together is the answer to who you are.

That is what your teenager received. The question now is what you do with it.

The seven declarations — what your teenager now knows

Tonight’s video gave teenagers seven specific answers to the identity question. As a parent, knowing what those seven answers are — and reinforcing them at home — is among the most important things you can do in the days following Ramadan.

1. They are a khalifah — placed here deliberately, with full knowledge of their weakness, for a purpose only they can fulfill in their specific context.
2. They are part of a chain — the product of fourteen centuries of ordinary Muslims who held so that the deen could reach them. And they are responsible for passing it on.
3. They are a person in the middle of their becoming — the confusion and not-yet are not evidence of failure. They are what becoming feels like from the inside.
4. They are someone whose trembling is seen — Allah knows not just what they do, but what they had to overcome to do it. The private struggle, the effort that nobody witnessed — He saw it.
5. They are not just themselves — they are part of a single body brought forth for all of humanity, with a responsibility to the people around them that goes beyond their own community.
6. They are someone carrying a bowl of milk — taqwa as the active, daily practice of protecting their book of deeds, carrying it carefully through everything the world places in their path.
7. They are someone planting trees — right now, in this season, in ways they cannot yet fully see.

These seven declarations are the answer to the Night 1 question. Help your teenager hold them. Ask them which one landed hardest. Name the one you see most clearly in them. Build it into the language of your home.

What the series revealed about your teenager’s interior

Across 30 nights, this series received responses from its audience that reveal something Muslim parents need to understand about what their teenagers are carrying.

The emails and comments that came back were not primarily about theological questions or Islamic rulings. They were about the interior life — the doubt that felt shameful to name, the depression that was being hidden because it seemed like a failure of faith, the shame around specific struggles that had never been told to anyone, the loneliness of feeling like the only one navigating what they were navigating.

Your teenager is carrying more than you know. Not because they are hiding it from you specifically — but because the Islamic content they have access to has not, until very recently, given them a language for those interior experiences. A language that is both Islamically grounded and honest about human struggle.

This series gave them that language. The question is whether you can receive it.

The parent who responds to their teenager’s newly found language — who hears “I related to the Night 15 episode on doubt” or “the Night 20 episode was about me” — with openness rather than alarm, with curiosity rather than correction, with Khadijah’s response rather than a lecture — is the parent whose teenager will keep talking.

Be that parent. The series opened a door. Your response determines whether your teenager walks through it toward you.

The Surat al-‘Asr framework — what Night 30 is asking your family to do

The series opened on Night 1 with Surat al-‘Asr — the framework that knowledge must be acted upon and invited to. It closes on Night 30 with the same instruction.

Tonight’s video makes two specific requests of its viewers:

1. Move the series from the watched category to the lived category. The content has no power as content alone. It becomes real when it becomes the life being lived.
2. Tell someone. Find the person in your life who is asking the same questions and was too afraid to say so. Share it — not as a caption, but as a conversation.

For Muslim parents, both of these requests have direct applications.

The lived category for your family means: the seven declarations are not just things your teenager heard. They are things your family believes and practices and names regularly. The khalifah framework is how you talk about purpose. The chain is how you talk about inheritance. The bowl is how you talk about taqwa. The vocabulary of the series becomes the vocabulary of your home.

The telling someone means: this series is not finished with your family. Think of the family in your community whose teenager needs what this series gave yours. The parent who is struggling to have these conversations and doesn’t know where to start. Share the playlist. Share a specific episode. Let the series do the opening that you might not be able to do alone.

That is how chains extend. One ordinary link at a time.

On FamCinema and what it means for your family

Tonight’s video introduces FamCinema — the media project Dr. Ali has been building alongside this series — and announces the premiere of the Hijrah animated series this Friday as a Eid gift.

For Muslim parents, FamCinema represents something worth paying attention to beyond the entertainment value of a specific series.

It is a demonstration of the tree-planting principle applied to culture. The recognition that Muslim families need media that reflects their values — not as a concession or a sanitized alternative, but as genuinely good entertainment that doesn’t require families to navigate content that conflicts with what they believe. That is a real need. And it is being addressed by someone planting a tree knowing that the shade will take years to grow.

Watch the Hijrah series with your family this Eid. Give your teenager the experience of Muslim-produced media that is funny and human and made for people like them. And if it resonates — tell someone. That is how the tree grows.

The FamCinema channel can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/@FamCinemaOfficial

Final discussion questions for families

For teens:

1. Which of the seven “who you are” declarations from Night 30 lands hardest for you right now? Why that one?
2. What is the one thing from these 30 nights that you are going to actually do differently — not think about, do?
3. Who is the one person in your life you want to share this series with? What is stopping you from doing it today?

For parents:

1. What did you learn about your teenager across this Ramadan — from watching the series, from the conversations it produced, from what they shared or didn’t share — that you didn’t know before?
2. Which of the seven declarations do you most want your teenager to carry into the rest of their life? Have you told them that?
3. What is your family planting together — starting this Eid — that someone after you will sit under?

For discussion together:

1. Read Surat al-‘Asr together. What does “acted upon and invited to” look like for our family in the weeks after Ramadan?
2. Which week of the series was most relevant to where our family actually is right now? What would it look like to go deeper on that week together?
3. Make a du’a together tonight — for the series, for everyone who received it, and for what you are building together as a family. Let it be among the closing supplications of your Ramadan.

Eid Mubarak

This series was built for you — for the Muslim family navigating something genuinely difficult, in a context that doesn’t make it easy, with questions that deserve honest answers.

May He put barakah in it that outlasts all of us. May He make it a sadaqah jariyah that keeps giving shade to people who never knew the name of the person who planted it. May Allah accept it among our acts of worship in this noble month and make it a means of releasing us from the Hellfire …

And may He make your teenager — exactly as they are, in the middle of their becoming — exactly what He placed them here to be. Ameen.

Eid Mubarak. Was-salamu alaykum wa rahmatullah.

Related:

Running Away From Who We Are | Night 29 with the Qur’an

30 Nights with the Qur’an: A Ramadan Series for Muslim Teens

The post Coming Full Circle: Who Are You Now? | Night 30 with the Qur’an appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

What the Prophet Yunus Teaches Muslim Parents About Purpose, Escape, and the Shore That Waits

There is a specific kind of parental fear that is different from all the others.

It is not the fear of your teenager making a dangerous choice. It is not the fear of them drifting from the deen or losing their identity. It is the quieter, harder fear of watching your teenager run from something you can see is theirs — a gift, a direction, a version of themselves that is clearly there — and feeling unable to stop the running.

Tonight’s post is for the parent navigating that fear. And this guide is for helping you understand both what your teenager received in tonight’s video — and what the running might actually be for.

The reframe that changes everything

Tonight’s video makes a theological move that most Islamic education about Yunus never makes — and that Muslim parents most need to understand.

Yunus ﷺ was not weak. He was not faithless. He was not spiritually immature. He was grieving — with a grief so intense it overcame him — for people he loved so much, that their indifference to the message was unbearable.

The Quran addresses this idea directly in Surah al-Kahf: “Perhaps you will grieve yourself to death over their denial.” [18:6] — spoken to the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, but describing a prophetic pattern that runs through the entire history of the prophets. The prophets struggled because they cared too much to accept the people’s indifference without being broken by it.

What this means for your teenager is significant: if they are running from something — from their deen, from a practice, from a version of themselves they know they’re supposed to be — the running is not necessarily evidence of weak faith. It may be evidence of caring so much about something that the gap between where they are and where they want to be became temporarily unbearable.

That reframe changes how you respond. Not with alarm or judgment. With the question Khadijah’s model suggests: who are you already, right now, that I can name and affirm? What is the caring that is underneath the running?

What the Nineveh detail teaches parents

 Tonight’s video includes a detail about the Yunus story that is rarely taught — and that parents need to hear.

While Yunus was running, while he was in the whale’s belly, while everything looked like failure from the inside — his absence from Nineveh was producing exactly the response his presence had been building toward for years. The people noticed he was gone. They recognized what his absence meant. And they turned in repentance — before he came back.

The mission he thought was failing was actually working from the outside, in ways he couldn’t see from the inside.

For parents watching their teenager apparently go backwards — abandoning practices, drifting from the community, running from commitments — this detail carries specific and important comfort.

The years of Islamic education, the values instilled in childhood, the character built through family tradition, the seeds planted across a lifetime of ordinary faithfulness — these do not disappear during the running. They are working, from the inside, in ways you cannot see from the outside. The Nineveh principle: the mission looked like failure from Yunus’s perspective. It was all preparation from Allah’s perspective.

This does not mean parental passivity — you remain present, available, a Khadijah ready to wrap them in a cloak when they return. But it means that the running is not the erasure of everything that came before it. The soil that was cultivated during the years of investment does not simply disappear.

Trust the process. We put in the effort. The results belong to Allah.

The Saudi Arabia story — what it means for parents

Tonight’s extended edition email tells a story that deserves attention from Muslim parents specifically: Dr. Ali’s escape to Saudi Arabia in 2011.

He went to escape many things, but one was medicine — burned out by years of caring for patients whose relationship with the medical staff was primarily aggression and abuse, asking himself repeatedly whether his years of training had been for this. He went intending early retirement. He went running.

What he found at the destination of his running:

• Patients who made du’a for his parents and his children. An experience of medicine that justified everything he had put into it.
• The opportunity to become a personal physician for Sheikh Jafar Idris.
• A close and enduring friendship with Sheikh Jafar’s son — a scholar and builder who has been among the most important relationships of his life.
• Access to a jama’ah of people building something real, rather than the expat community he might otherwise have belonged to.

He went running from his purpose and found, at the destination of his running, the fullest expression of his purpose he had ever experienced.

This is not a recommendation for running. The running itself was the wrong direction — he acknowledges this clearly. But it is a testimony about what Allah does with running when a servant turns back: He meets them at the shore with provision already prepared.

For Muslim parents watching their teenager run — this story matters. Not because it validates the running. Because it testifies to the fact that Allah is present at every destination, including the ones our children reach by going in the wrong direction.

The jama’ah that was waiting

One detail from Dr. Ali’s Saudi story deserves specific attention for parents: the jama’ah.

Through Yusuf Idris, Dr. Ali found access to a community of people building something real — scholars, educators, people seriously engaged in Islamic work — that he had wanted to belong to but hadn’t found before. His running to Saudi Arabia, which was intended as retreat, became the door through which he entered the community he had been looking for.

For Muslim parents, this raises an important question about your teenager’s running: what community are they looking for that they haven’t found? What jama’ah are they hungering for that the available options haven’t satisfied?

Sometimes teenage drift from the Muslim community is not rejection of the community concept. It is dissatisfaction with the specific communities available — communities that don’t feel alive, don’t feel relevant, don’t feel like places where real building is happening.

The response to that hunger is not to insist they make do with what exists. It is to help them find — or help build — the jama’ah that is actually worth belonging to. The hand of Allah is with the jama’ah. Help your teenager find one that makes that promise feel real.

The Quality of Yusuf Idris — a note for parents

Dr. Ali describes Yusuf Idris as someone who “consistently makes the people around him feel like more than they know themselves to be.” Not through flattery — through encouragement pointed at something real. Every conversation leaves you feeling that you have more to offer than you had recognized, that the direction you are heading is worth continuing.

That quality — the ability to see in someone what they cannot yet see in themselves and to name it with genuine encouragement — is the Khadijah quality. It is what she did for the trembling prophet. It is what Yusuf Idris does for the people around him. And it is what Muslim parents can do for their teenagers.

You have watched your teenager for years. You know their gifts, their character, their capacity, their resilience. You can see, from the longer view you have, the shape of what they are becoming before they can see it themselves.

Name it. Say it to them — specifically, not generally. Not “you will do great things,” but the specific thing you see: the quality you have watched develop, the gift that keeps appearing, the character trait that has been consistent since childhood.

That naming — received from a parent who has been watching carefully — is one of the most important things a teenager can carry into the rest of their becoming.

The Tasbih for Parents

 Tonight’s video closes with the tasbih of Yunus ﷺ as a practice for teenagers. I want to suggest it as a practice for parents as well.

La ilaha illa anta subhanaka inni kuntu mina al-dhalimeen.

There is nothing worthy of worship except You. How perfect are You above all that they associate with You. I have been of the wrongdoers.

As a parent, this tasbih has a specific application: it is the prayer of the person who has been running from something — including the running that parenting itself sometimes involves. The ways we have failed to be fully present. The Khadijah responses we didn’t give when our teenager needed them. The moments we responded with alarm or judgment rather than with the wrapping in a cloak that the situation required.

Make this du’a tonight. As a turning back to Allah. The turning is always possible. The response is always available. And the shore — with provision already prepared — is waiting.

Discussion questions for families

 For teens:

1. Have you ever run from something that turned out to be exactly what you were meant for? What did you find at the destination of that running?
2. Is there something you are currently running from — a practice, a commitment, a version of yourself you know you are supposed to be? What would naming it out loud feel like?
3. Is there a Yusuf Idris in your life — someone who makes you feel like more than you know yourself to be? What do they see in you that you struggle to see yourself?

For parents:

1. What do you see in your teenager that they cannot yet see in themselves? Have you said it to them — specifically, recently, in a way they could receive?
2. Is your teenager’s running from purpose driven by indifference — or by the kind of grief that comes from caring too much? How does that distinction change your response?
3. What jama’ah is your teenager looking for that they haven’t found? How can you help them find or build it?

For discussion together:

1. Read Surat al-Anbiya [21:87-88] together. What does wa kadhalika nunjil mu’mineen — “and thus do We save the believers” — mean for your family right now?
2. Is there something our family has been running from — a commitment, a practice, a direction — that we need to name and return to together?
3. What would it look like for our family to say the tasbih of Yunus together tonight — genuinely, not as a recitation but as an acknowledgment?

The Bottom Line

Your teenager may be running right now. From their purpose, their practice, a version of themselves they haven’t yet grown into.

The Yunus story — told tonight in its full depth — is not a warning about the consequences of running. It is a testimony about what Allah does with the turning. He meets His servants at the shore. With shade already prepared. With provision already growing. Sometimes with a friendship they didn’t know they were going to find.

Be present. Be a Khadijah. Name what you see. And trust that the purpose — still there, still waiting, still theirs — will receive them when they return.

Wa kadhalika nunjil mu’mineen.

Continue the Journey

This is Night 29 of Dr. Ali’s 30-part Ramadan series, “30 Nights with the Quran: Stories for the Seeking Soul.”

Tomorrow, insha Allah: Night 30 — The Full Circle. We return to the question that opened Night 1 — and answer it differently.

For daily extended reflections with journaling prompts, personal stories, and deeper resources, join Dr. Ali’s email community: https://30nightswithquran.beehiiv.com/

Related:

Building From the Ground Up: Week 4 Recap | Night 28 with the Qur’an

30 Nights with the Qur’an: A Ramadan Series for Muslim Teens

The post Running Away From Who We Are | Night 29 with the Qur’an appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.