Club puts a modern face on Islam, challenges preconceptions
^fairplay^
Staff at London's ArRum serve up drinks at the opening of a photographic
exhibition in June.
By Daniel Strieff
MSNBC
LONDON, July 9 — On any given evening, a clutch of young British
professionals can be found hanging out in this elegant social club,
sipping a drink at the bar or kicking back on a couch, discussing the
surrounding artwork. A bunch of typical, society-conscious Londoners
relaxing with a drink after work? Sort of. The new place in central
London to hang out is refuting Islam’s harshest Western critics and
showing that talk of a clash of civilizations is woefully premature. And
those drinks, they’re fruit juice.
‘A lot of these stereotypes [associated with Islam] are enforced by
humans, they’re not taken directly from the Quran.’
— REEDAH NIJABAT
Founder and CEO, ArRum IN RECENT MONTHS, the pundits have had their way
with Islam, blasting it as a religion intolerant toward change, with
abhorrent views on the role of women and accepting of fundamentalist
terrorism.
But ArRum, a stylish social club aimed at young professional
Muslims in London’s trendy Clerkenwell district, has put a lie to those
stereotypes.
Run by a 31-year-old trained lawyer, ArRum is the first club to
promote a “God-centered approach to living,” providing an artistic,
intellectual atmosphere that promotes reciprocal engagement between the
Muslim community and mainstream Britain, according to Reedah Nijabat,
founder and CEO.
Using art as a pivot, ArRum is a place for young people to
celebrate Islamic civilization in its many variations, she said, and
gives a chance to combat negative stereotypes, everything from the veil
for women to the austere version espoused by the Taliban, that the West
has latched on to Islam.
“A lot of these stereotypes are enforced by humans; they’re not
taken directly from the Koran,” she said on a recent summer’s evening.
ArRum, where roughly 50 percent of the clientele is non-Muslim,
is also a place where people of all faiths can relax.
Besides a prayer room and a library, the club also includes a
juice bar, a halal restaurant and Internet access. In keeping with
Muslim tradition, no alcohol is served, and smoking is not allowed
inside.
ArRum opened Oct. 11 — a month into what had become a trying
cohabitation between Islam and the West generally, and Britain
specifically.
AGAINST THE CLICHE
Large numbers of Muslims, mostly from the Indian subcontinent,
first came to this country as the British empire crumbled following
World War II. The Muslim population is now estimated at nearly 2 million
out of a total population of roughly 60 million.
Islam’s reputation in the West took a battering in the aftermath
of the Sept. 11 attacks, and Muslims in Britain and elsewhere were
suddenly viewed with suspicion by many Westerners.
Already feeling marginalized by Britain’s white, Anglican
majority, Muslims here say they increasingly find they are made out to
be a sort of fifth column by the press.
Meantime, the intense British debate over perceived influx of
immigrants — many of whom are from traditionally Muslim countries — has
colored the relations with the Muslim community.
A recent Guardian/ICM poll, however, found that British Muslims
are increasingly looking to play a bigger part in life here — 41 percent
of those polled said they believed their community should do more to
integrate into mainstream British society.
As media coverage of Islam continued to rerun tired themes —
fundamentalism, anti-semitism, asylum seekers — Nijabat realized she’d
had enough.
Reedah Nijabat, founder and CEO or ArRum “There are exciting
things going on in Islam, and amongst British Muslims, that I find are
being overlooked by the media,” she said. “These are things we’d like
put in better focus.”
ArRum works with Muslim groups nationwide on improving ties with
mainstream society, reaching out to others and serving the community —
rather than focusing on the rituals or the religion.
In setting up the club, Nijabat went against the grain of some
traditionalists in Britain’s Muslim community.
“At first, I think there was a lot of skepticism” about setting
up ArRum, Nijabat said. “They weren’t sure what my agenda was, I don’t
wear a scarf, that sort of thing.”
“But I think that especially after Sept. 11, a lot of them
realized it would be best to get engaged, to find out what sorts of
things are being discussed,” she added.
ART AS A TOOL
Nevertheless, the club, which takes its name from a verse in the
Koran, veers away from politics.
“I think [that] reflects the way I am, I’m not a very political
person. I have very strong opinions on politics, of course, the
Palestinian issue and other things, but I prefer to examine culture from
an artistic perspective,” Nijabat said. “There are different things that
can be addressed from art, and that’s what we’re aiming for.”
The club serves as a sort of permanent exhibition space for work
centered on Islamic themes, by artists around the globe. Currently,
ArRum is showing a photograph exhibit on Muslims in Britain.
Taken as a whole, the art serves to demonstrate the diversity of
Islamic art, and arguing against a narrowly defined Muslim culture,
Nijabat said.
“That’s something about Islam in Britain that’s engaging, the
different regions of the world that are represented,” Nijabat, who is
ethnically Pakistani, said. “Art from all different sides, different
regions, are represented here.”
The club also holds creative writing workshops, business and film
seminars, theater and gender dynamics workshops.
LEAVING CONFLICT BEHIND
The club itself is difficult to pin down: A place to socialize or
a place to worship? Honoring tradition or looking forward?
While religion clearly defines the club, the place is far from
one-dimensional. An effort was clearly made, for example, at a recent
exhibition opening when the waitstaff were clad in Union Jack T-shirts.
Nijabat’s excitement is palpable when she talks about the
diversity and grandness of Islamic culture, its possibilities and ways
she’d like to make it more engaging.
In her previous life, Nijabat worked as a lawyer for a large
firm, and expressed frustration that in many people’s minds her devout
religious views pigeon-holed her — from not partaking of afterwork
drinks, a British workplace tradition, to deeper issues.
“Something that I found was that you were defined by your
religion instead of what you are, or what I am. But I feel that the
conflict (between businesswoman and Muslim) isn’t within me,” she said.
“I know that I want a God-centered approach to life.”