A sermon, a press release or speech can knit a community together or quietly set it against its neighbors. It can make a stranger feel like family, or make family feel like strangers. This past week highlighted that full spectrum all too clearly for Muslims in T&T. So how does that work? And what lessons can we takeaway from all of this?
Two events. One week. Same religion. Two very different exercises of the same power. And 2 very different outcomes. We saw in a very stark and public way two lessons that underline a universal truth about leadership, and the one thing every leader holds in their hand: the power to unite, or the power to divide. And its effects are very widespread, they run deep, and can be felt almost instantly.
The Power to Unite
Let's begin where the week began — with a win.
In Michigan, a Muslim man won the Senate elections — the first Muslim American to be elected to the US Senate. Abdulrahman Mohamed El-Sayed — the son of Egyptian immigrants, a physician, a former gubernatorial candidate — a watershed moment for political integration and representation.
In the lead up to the elections he was subject to very public displays of the crudest and vilest form of Islamophobia – he was called a jihadist, siding with terrorists, with allegations of links leveled against him and his parents. He was accused of wanting to impose shariah law, He was mocked with the suggestion to be put through a metal detector to enter the senate. His name was mocked in different ways, his qualifications belittled… and of course all of this in live mainstream broadcasts and on social media. Deliberate attempts to smear him as an outsider and a threat.
How did El-Sayed respond? In the lead up to elections he focused on what mattered to the voters – economic issues over identity politics, which he called a distraction and deflection. Healthcare, spending power, policy reforms – to improve their quality of life.
And of course he connected with them - "You welcomed me into your homes, your churches, your synagogues, your VFW and union halls." He named the specific sacred and civic spaces of other people's traditions — and thanked them. He spoke of a country that is big enough for someone who looks a little different, prays differently, or whose family comes from somewhere else to fit in. He does not unify by excluding the other side's voters. He unifies by enlarging the container. Turns a crowd into a coalition.
In his victory speech it is noticeable on one part what he did not do on that stage. He did not shrink his faith to make it palatable. He did not perform a secularized version of himself. He said Alhamdulillah — out loud, at a political rally, in a country where a meaningful size of the electorate is anxious about exactly that word. And the crowd said it with him. Thousands of people including non-Muslims, for whom Alhamdulillah is not a familiar word on the tongue.
That is the power to unite, driven by recognizing what’s important and using your platform to bring people together.
The Power to Divide
Fast forward a few days later, and right here in Trinidad and Tobago, a country that prides itself on inclusion – we celebrate everything – and where Muslims have always been well-integrated in wider society, a religious body publishes a ruling telling Muslims it is impermissible to say "Happy Diwali" or "Merry Christmas" or participate in the religious celebrations of other faiths. The country recoils at such a public display of bigotry. Including Muslims, who are quick to say the views don’t represent them or their beliefs.
Was it a valid theological discussion? Absolutely. Scholars have debated this for centuries. And by debate I mean different positions on the matter. Was the group clear in their articulation? Definitely. They were very specific. So why the repulsion? Well, there’s the timing issue – it went viral on the Diwali weekend, at the height of the nation’s festivities around the occasion. But at the core the position was the problem - the public saw it not just as contentious, but as denigration. And confusing to some extent – many of these people already look like Santa Claus – with a big white beard and a big belly. So how can they take this position?
The backlash was instant and it was strong. Interesting was the sheer volume of the objections that came from Muslims themselves. That immediately tells you something about the gap between the fringe positions and the mainstream within Muslim society. But this is not a new phenomenon - provocative religious rulings that "represent the Muslim community" has been a persistent and damaging trend in Muslim public life, globally. In this case, the community itself corrected the record — in public. “Not all Muslims maintain that position” or “This group does not represent me” on another.
Even the group itself know it was in poor taste – evidenced by the fact that the original post was later restricted and a clarification issued acknowledging the hurt it caused. In rapid response, to their credit. But if you have to explain the context after you caused the problem, and assert your commitment to national cohesion during a scandal you created to push people apart - you have already relegated yourself and your membership, and the wider Muslim community.
What happens next? Well, there are 2 options – they could try to rebuild connections and show solidarity with their Muslim and other counterparts, or they can double down on their convictions and cry victim – the world is against us and we must be firm.
We know this because none of this is new. The phenomena is well known – the strictness of interpretation and adherence, the clear boundaries of separation from mainstream society, the claim of having a monopoly on textual interpretations - these are textbook characteristics of hardline or fundamentalist movements. The message is always the same. It’s us vs a hostile world, and we are the few, the brave, the pure, the committed. Others would never understand, or are too weak, or too willing to compromise, and we must be firm in our resolve to never yield.
We have seen this before – time and again. And its not limited to Muslim community – it is very much present in other religions, and in groups by other lenses – race, gender, class, politics… I could go on.
To their credit, this group made their position public, so we know where we stand. Others take a more secretive approach. But the behaviors are the same. The very strictness that seems offensive and repugnant to outsiders is what appeals to those it attracts – especially those who feel disenfranchised, displaced, or unrecognized in mainstream society. Its identity politics, and we have seen that as a recurring theme in societies throughout the world for the past few decades.
This is the power of the leader to divide. And the public feels alienated. Boundaries become erected, people push back, and tensions rise.
As a more quiet example of the positives coming out of this, we at the MAI Institute saw a spike in views on the position we issued on this topic back in 2023, and that spike says the majority mainstream Muslims and general public were looking for guidance, for clarity, for sanity in some sense. It says that the majority of persons – Muslims, and the country as a whole, are asking for something different – bridges, not barriers. Inclusion, camaraderie, mutual respect, shared convictions, solidarity. And that I believe is where the real victory would lie in situations like these. What we have in common far exceeds what sets us apart. And at times like these we need to remember that.
Now just to be clear, I am in no way saying compromise your beliefs. But at the same time, I'm pretty sure if you wish others Happy Diwali you wouldn’t automatically start hearing a bhajan playing in your ear. And its ok to say Merry Christmas to others and still hold firm belief in One God who is All Knowing, All Powerful, and Most Merciful. Its not a trade-off. But, while that might be the position defined by moderate Islam, people are entitled to their own beliefs and to be guided by their scholars and leaders as they choose.
The Representation Landscape
And on that points sits a third dimension of the landscape – the issue of representation. Noticeably absent were the responses of the large moderate representative bodies within Muslim community. If these institutions are silent, unavailable for comment, slow to publish, or unequipped for media, then the only Muslim voice the society hears is the fringe one that offends — and every ordinary Muslim then carries the reputational cost of a statement they never endorsed.
Silence is not neutrality. Silence is a delegation of your voice to whoever is willing to speak out. Our mainstream institutions need to provide that representation — and be fast. Not defensive. Not reactive. Not apologetic. Just present, clear, and confident. That's the least we can ask for. It would be far better to be proactive, of course. But complete silence suggests not just a leadership that's unprepared but leadership that's absent. And in a vacuum like that the loudest voices set the tone. And everyone feels the effects.
In Michigan, a Muslim leader stood on a stage and said Alhamdulillah — and a crowd of people who do not share his religion said it with him. Not because they had converted. Because he had identified with them, acknowledged their concerns, spoke to it, and rejected the polarity logic.
In Trinidad, a religious institution published a sentence — probably sincerely, probably with valid theological concerns — and a country felt pushed away. And the community it claimed to speak for pushed back.
Same religion. Same power. Different hands. Different outcomes.
Unity in Diversity
I said earlier that what we have in common far exceeds what sets us apart. I know that as a Trinbago society we will continue to be the inclusive, open and caring people to each other and to the world that we have always shown ourselves to be. That we are more united that those who try to divide us, or separate themselves. In fact, we will continue to help even them in their times of need, although we might throw some shade while doing it. Sibling love, I believe its called.
So where does that leave us?
We are told in one hadith ‘islaahu dhat-al-bayn wa-fasad dhat-al-bayn-al haliqatu
Reconcile between people, and not sow discord among people, for that is the shaver of religion.
Al Muslih – the reconciler, the one who repairs relations — is a title of honour in Islam. And it is a skill. A discipline that must be taught, practised, and above all, demanded of the people who speak in our name.