Islamic Punk: From Fiction to Reality
The novel that spawned the movement; the film that captured both; and the event that screened the film over SALF’s Opening Weekend - Mike Corcoran reviews them all.
America, however else you might think of it, is a melting pot of cultures and counter-cultures. What better place, then, to set a novel that deals with one of the most influential sub-cultures – Punk – than a country that’s home to Christians, Klingons, Secularists and Scientologists.
Set in the slums of Buffalo, New York, Michael Muhammad Knight’s The Taqwacores tells the story of Yusef, a conservative engineering student, and his move into a local household, separate – his parents believe – from the “things in the dorm that were bad for him.” However, inside dwell not Muslims, but Muslim Punks!
Within this microcosm of merging and divergent ideologies, preconceptions of tradition are challenged at every opportunity. Wudhu is performed in filthy sinks, old pizza boxes are used as prayer mats, and women are given the power to lead Jumaa. Every Friday night, after the afternoon’s rituals, chaos ensues. Hedonism replaces abstinence, as a mass of punks from the surrounding areas descend upon the house in an orgy of sex, drugs and rock’n’roll. In these squalid surroundings, haram clashes with halal, and prayer with party.
Upon entering the household, Yusef befriends and observes each of the four fellow-inhabitants, gaining insight into their own distinctive takes on Islam. Umar is the Quran-wielding straightedge, Fasiq the contemplative stoner, Rabeya the burqa-clad feminist, and Jehangir, the libertine. Regaling the house with stories of his time out West in ‘Khalifornia’ with the fictitious Islamic Punk movement of the plot, the novel centres on the realisation of Jehangir’s dream – to bring taqwacore bands to Buffalo, in a celebration of everything he believes in.
Taqwacore is the marriage of the Punk ideology with Islam, a portmanteau fusing taqwa (the Islamic concept of ‘fear of God’) and hardcore, where bad language, behaviour, clothes and music are held aloft rather than apologised for.
The beauty of the novel is the fact that nothing much occurs. Although constant reference is made to the great happenings out West, the narrative grounds its characters within run-down Buffalo, with their horizons ending at the local liquor store. No introspective road-trips are embarked upon; the house acts as the place of self-exploration, and a chaotic Mecca for each and every person who enters.
The Festival’s Opening Weekend saw the screening of the 2010 film adaptation of the novel, followed by a live Skype-chat from LA with the Director Eyad Zahra. Interestingly, the production’s shoe-string budget succeeded in creating a convincing punk aesthetic, with rough-and-ready camera movements, a frantic soundtrack, and fast-paced editing sequences conjuring Punk Cinema’s Golden Age back in the 1980s, when films such as Alex Cox’s Repo Man (1984) relished in the shoddy stylism which defined the gritty genre.
However, it was the superb casting of Dominic Rains as Jehangir – easily the books most engaging character – which provided the film’s lasting effect. Strutting around like a seductive peacock, with his resplendent red Mohawk, Raines manages to channel the punkish spirits of James Dean and Sid Vicious, allowing us to fall in love with his idealism about an open and inclusive Islam. His nuanced portrayal of this complex, troubled character inspires empathy on our part and makes the film’s ending that much more poignant for it.
Acknowledging the financial difficulties faced throughout the film’s production, it would be unfair to point out its shortcomings – weak acting at times and uneven technical aspects – which are eclipsed by the film’s energy and vitality. Just like the Punks in the novel, the film is aware of its faults, but by no means ready to apologise for them.
During the Q&A, Zahra cited the influence of Spike Lee and Jim Jarmusch – directors who also focus on characters on the fringes of society. He spoke candidly about his ambivalent relationship with his Islamic upbringing in Ohio, and what it felt like to be the first in his Syrian family to be born in America. All this information suggested an affinity with Knight throughout their collaboration on the script, as Knight is an Irish-Catholic who converted to Islam in his teens.
It is not surprising to see the cultural impact this book has had on Islamic communities. Staying true to its Punk philosophy, banned in the Philippines, taught in Universities, inspiring an actual Islamic Punk movement, and used as a doctrine to follow in many Muslim Feminist circles, the novel resonates beyond a simple story surrounding a group of lovable losers: The Taqwacores is a journey. It highlights the fact that ideologies are malleable things not set in stone or scripture, and that the only answer is that there are no answers.
Get hold of an American copy, as the UK version is – for some inexplicable reason – heavily censored; an essential read for anyone who wants to explore this unique clash of culture with ideology.
Share this article
