A Reasonable Facsimile

Preface

My name is Mutawaf Abdus Shaheed. I am a writer and poet, having published more than two dozen books across a wide range of genres under the pen name C.E. Shy. Inshallah, I am likely one of the last old-school imams from the Dar ul Islam movement era. If something isn't moving, it's stagnant-or dead. And in any case, it holds no value; inshallah.

My relationship with the author, Mahmoud Andrade Ibrahim, spans some fifty years within the Dar ul Islam Movement organization. Even as a young brother, he always felt at home in that environment. Engage him in conversation, and it will inevitably center on Afrocentric topics. This book, God Bless the Child: Reflections of a Black American Muslim, is another attempt to connect the missing links.

Marginalized. Undermined. Slandered. Discredited. The list goes on. These words provide a glimpse into the systemic efforts employed for centuries against Africans and African Americans upon their arrival on the shores of the Western Hemisphere. Anyone who comes to America must adopt the mindset of those who established-and later enforced-the protocols for entry. Compliance is mandatory; refusal means exclusion from the American landscape and the opportunities it could offer Black people.

Those who migrate to or visit America must be prepared to compromise their principles and humanity, leaving such values at the Department of Immigration. One tragic outcome of Black people's brutal experiences is the internalized negative self-image that has developed after enduring so much insanity. This has made them susceptible to external influences that contradict their natural inclinations and environment.

Most foreigners arriving in America carry preconceived notions about the land and its Black inhabitants. They align themselves with the power structure-predominantly white and racist-which has spent centuries ensuring that Black progress remains minimal at best. Both political parties have been and are complicit.

I have personally witnessed these demonic enmities at work, where foreigners are used to interfere with institutions we built, attempting to usurp our efforts while claiming we are unqualified by their standards-despite having already achieved what they seek to control.

For example, when a government organization discovered I was leading a prison program for Muslim inmates in Ohio, they convened a Senate committee in Columbus (1973)-part of the Congressional record under the House on Internal Securities. The director of prisons and various wardens were asked by a senator if they had consulted the Islamic Center in Washington, D.C., before dealing with me. They repeatedly referred to me as "this Shaheed"-with disdain and utter disrespect. (The document is available for those interested.)

This move was a clear attempt to have outsiders monitor us on behalf of oppressors. Fortunately, by then, we were already well-established within the prison system and maintained strong relationships with the wardens. The Senate Committee was angered by our influence over our own people. (Incidentally, that government body was originally called the House on Un-American Activities-see Senator Joseph McCarthy, Richard Nixon, and Roy Cohn.)

In 1972, ten other leaders and myself were invited to Hajj as guests of Prince Muhammad Faisal. The delegation included imams from New York, New Jersey, Philadelphia, and Ohio-representing three masaajid from Philly, four from NJ, one from Cleveland, and three from NY. We stayed in Saudi Arabia for a month, participating in meetings with the prince's staff. A brother recorded notes on our requests during a session in Jeddah, where we were asked, "What do you want?"
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Mutawaf Abdus Shaheed