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What If Rick Warren Were a Muslim?
04 May 2006
By Lamar Clarkson
Readers who like to think of the conservative wings of Christianity and Islam as fundamentalist twins separated at birth will be delighted to learn that the behavioral studies are in: Now that Islam has its own celebrity televangelist to make traditional messages more palatable, the Muslim world’s rising class of young urban professionals are falling into line, blushing with a special and righteous pride last seen in the congregations of Rick Warren and Billy Graham.
In her well-reported profile of Amr Khaled (whose soulful face appears on the cover of last Sunday’s New York Times Magazine), Samantha M. Shapiro introduces us to a man who’s more motivational speaker than standard Islamic preacher. We learn that Khaled likes to cloak his religious messages in the feel-good rhetoric of management literature -- Islam “empowers” women; the Prophet Muhammad held “press conferences” -- and that he presents Muslim law not as something to be imposed by authority, but as, Shapiro writes, “something to be discovered on a journey of personal growth and awareness.”
Shapiro casts the preacher as Islam's answer to the (vaguely evangelical) Dr. Phil -- neatly trimmed mustache and all. Khaled, who is determined to shape the face of Islam into an expression more friendly to the West, wears no beard. And like the television psychiatrist, he wants to reconcile two parties who aren’t speaking: traditional Islam and the secular culture of the West. With his custom-tailored designer suits and smooth face, Khaled hopes to forge a common ground on which these warring camps can start a dialogue. But most of the allowances he makes for Western behavior are as superficial as his clean-shaven jaw, and his message actually moves Muslim youth toward a more strict religious observance than what many of them grew up with.
Taken on its own, Shapiro’s reporting presents a complex portrait of a preacher who, in step with the thinking behind Bush’s “battle for hearts and minds,” has been effectively stockpiling hearts. But Shapiro undermines the weight of the story she has told when she inserts her own voice at the end of the piece. Instead of acknowledging the power of an Islamic Dr. Phil, she cuts him down to what she considers an appropriate size. Surprised to learn that Khaled compares himself to figures like Nelson Mandela, “the prophets,” and Gandhi, who suffered far more for their messages than the average motivational speaker, Shapiro writes, “Khaled hardly seemed in that league.” She points out that he doesn’t rock the boat, that he has never questioned the key claims of mainstream Islam or any Middle Eastern government. While Shapiro is right that Khaled is no Gandhi, she fails to appreciate that you don’t need to be Gandhi to change the world. In fact, you probably stand a greater chance if you’re the next Dr. Phil or Billy Graham.
Reviewing the article with its last paragraph in mind, we see a subtle thread of mockery emerge. The subhead on the magazine’s cover asks whether a former accountant with no formal religious training is the right man to find the middle ground between secular liberalism and radical Islamism. Shapiro draws out this question with increasing doubt and has some fun poking holes in the preacher’s efficacy. Personal flaws give way to professional ones: First Khaled loses a suitcase packed with 25 European suits and can’t keep track of his son in Heathrow Airport for just ten minutes, and later we see him “spin his wheels” in a meeting about integration strategies with some of his German followers. They bring up Arabic lessons for German-speaking Muslims; he thinks maybe they should plan something with the World Cup.
Shapiro suggests that he’s always smoothing over differences rather than solving them. Quoting Islamic intellectuals who disagree with Khaled, she tells us that he leaves dangling the tougher questions about how exactly Muslims can live an integrated life and still be true to their faith -- should Muslims go to public schools or start their own? How to treat homosexuals? Khaled emerges from the profile as charming but ineffectual and grandiose, more like Angelina in Africa than a credible diplomat.
But the fact that he’s not quite capable is the root of his appeal. Motivational speakers are popular because they make life seem simpler and the hard choices easier. It doesn’t matter what Khaled can do so long as he promises that he can do it. Reading a book by Dr. Phil is infinitely more satisfying than trying to implement his instructions; we like being told over and over that we can make our lives good, whether or not we decide to face ourselves full-on. It’s not answers that sell Khaled any more than it’s results that sell those treadmills or real-estate ventures on late-night infomercials. It’s hope. And in the process of making the status quo look like personal fulfillment to millions of young Muslims, Khaled has sold them on a religious path they’re told will be more rewarding than it is. Given his success -- Shapiro tells us that Khaled’s website got more hits than Oprah’s last year -- how can a Gandhi or a Mandela hope to compete?
Lamar Clarkson is a graduate student in New York University's Deparment of Journalism.

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