Tomorrow is one of the most blessed days for our Islamic world: the night of Isra and Miraj. First a short primer. Isra in Arabic means night journey. For Muslims it is the extraordinary event in the Year of Sorrow when the Master of the Worlds, Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), was taken from the Sacred Mosque in Mecca to the Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem, the first stage of the ascent. Miraj, from the root uruj (to rise), means the means of ascent. For us it is his being raised to the heavens as told in hadith and verses, and the wonders he met there. I will not retell Miraj’s importance; sites, books, and sermons already do. I want another angle. Lately a cauldron of fitna is boiling in our country. Protests said to start against a Gezi park project are again, in the hands of familiar actors, about splitting the country and blocking its growth. For days our youth, friends, people we looked in the eye yesterday, have poured into streets and been dragged into a swamp whose aim, leaders, and end are unclear. Swamp, because the end will be filth again. Maybe they will be hurt and our hearts with them. Look at the 70s, 80s, 90s: how many of the dead are remembered, who answered for burned youth and broken families? What was gained? Where are the starters? Many rub their hands in villas built by cutting forests and still fan the flames. The Prophet said: In times of fitna, break your arrows, cut your bows. Be like Abel, son of Adam. I say “us” not only to Muslims but to every friend, sibling, and companion in this country. Why not be like Abel? Why not shut our doors and sit at home for calm? Why always be someone’s toy? Just once let Turkish youth say we did not start this, we are nobody’s toy, and go home. Just once answer the fitna-makers who want us at each other’s throats with one voice. Elders recall: the day after the 80 coup, left and right walked arm in arm. If it could be solved in a day, why all those lives? Our generation is being pulled into the same fitna. If we face off in streets, split into camps, become tools of fitna, attack each other, how will we look each other in the eye tomorrow? If we will link arms again in a day, if when we are stuck we still call the police first, why this fitna? Why can we not talk it out? Why always copy others? Come, end this fitna this Wednesday. Come tomorrow, arm in arm, and ascend the Miraj together.
Come, let us ascend the Miraj together…
