It is a great pleasure to be with you all at the Sixth World Conference on Islamic Thought and Civilization. Hosted by the university which bears the name of my dear father, the 34th Sultan of Perak, Al-Marhum Sultan Azlan Shah, this is a conference which has always held a particularly special place in my heart.
It brings me great joy to return once again, and to witness the continued flourishing of this Islamic university, known in Arabic as Jami’ah Azlaniyah.
Not least through the hosting of prestigious international conferences such as this one, this institution is growing and thriving in an increasingly global context, and I hope that it will continue to do so for many years to come.
The return is especially joyful – and also rather poignant – this year, because our gathering today marks the first time the World Conference on Islamic Thought and Civilisation has been held since Covid-19.
This conference was postponed, as you know, back in March 2020. Over the two years since that time, we have all experienced a long and difficult period of separation, isolation and, in many cases, loss.
And yet, here we are, gathered together in person once again, to reflect – so very fittingly – on the subject of “Sharing Our Humanity”.
Since this conference first met 10 years ago, the organisers have deserved praise year on year for selecting topics of urgent and timely relevance to humankind the world over, from “Global Peace” to “Securing the Future”.
“Sharing Our Humanity” seemed an apt and important topic back in 2020. In the light of what has happened in our world since then, I believe its relevance, its urgency, has only heightened.
I would like to commend the organisers for their incredible foresight in selecting a conference theme which puts humankind – humanity – absolutely centre stage. We value it now, I believe, more than ever.
In speeches I have given in the past, I’ve often talked about how the most serious challenges facing our world today can be effectively summarised as the “Three Ps” - that is prosperity, the planet and its people.
I have spoken about global poverty, and about how Islamic finance might help to alleviate widespread hardship and destitution. I have discussed the pressing issue of climate change and the God-given responsibility bestowed upon all humankind to act as stewards of the Earth.
And I have spoken about the ever-growing refugee crisis, the thousands of people forced to flee their homes every day due to conflict and persecution, and the urgent need for Muslim-majority countries to reach out and help our displaced brothers and sisters.
Given the theme being explored at WCIT this year, it seems impossible for me not to dwell on this topic once again, but this time to address the third “P” – that of “People” – as we come together to reflect on “Sharing Our Humanity”.
I have concentrated, in previous speeches, on the scale of the humanitarian crisis facing our world today. On the fact that the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) reports more displaced persons in the world now than at any time since the end of the Second World War.
On the 27 million refugees in our world at this very moment, of whom more than 10 million come from Muslim-majority countries – a staggering one third of the world’s refugee population.
These are grave and urgent realities from which we must not shy away. That there are so many displaced persons in our world today – that there are, for example, around 13 million refugee children – surely speaks to a failure of humanity on an international scale.
We, the world as a whole, and especially the Muslim world, need to do better at showing our humanity, in order to offer homes and hope to those who find themselves, tragically, without either. I have every faith that this conference – this gathering of engaged and brilliant minds – will succeed in pushing the dialogue ahead, and identifying new strategies to deal with this most pressing crisis.
In what remains of my speech today, however, I would like to take the opportunity to reflect on our conference theme, and on that third “P” of “People”, from a slightly different perspective.
Because offering much-needed homes to displaced persons is only one of the ways in which we can – indeed, must – work harder to share our humanity. For me, this year’s theme is also an invitation to reflect on important questions of diversity, tolerance and multiculturalism - to consider what happens next, after that first welcome has been extended, as people of different backgrounds, cultures, religions and creeds learn to live together in one nation.
I spoke at this conference several years ago about the two important Islamic values of trust (amanah) and inclusivity, which is precisely by not merely tolerating, but by truly accepting the other by showing mercy (what the ulamas call as ta’ ayush).
I want to emphasise the significance of these values once again this year because they remind us that “Sharing Our Humanity” – accepting and reaching out to those who may differ from us – is enshrined at the very core of our Muslim faith.
An important Quranic verse reads, “O humankind! Indeed, we have created you from one man and one woman and made you into different races and nations so that you may recognise one another”.
As Muslims, we are enjoined to explore the similarities that unite us, not to fixate on the differences that would drive us apart. And this belief in humanity’s essential oneness, I should note, is emphasised in the Christian Bible as well: “For by one Spirit are we all baptised into one body”.
How apt that this message of unity should be shared across different faiths, too!
I am proud that the essential Islamic values of tolerance, inclusivity and kinship have long since thrived in Malaysia. Since the declaration of the Rukun Negara in 1970, in response to the tragic race riots of the previous year, Malaysia has been recognised internationally as a country that celebrates the unity and togetherness of its diverse peoples.
In 2008, for instance, the United Nations agency, Unesco, named George Town and Malacca as World Heritage Sites, lauding them as “exceptional examples of multicultural trading towns in East and Southeast Asia”, and commending their almost 500-year histories of intercultural dialogue and exchange.
Malaysia is a country which, I am proud to say, speaks up to 137 living languages and celebrates a wide range of festivals, including Hari Raya Aidilfitri, Deepavali, Christmas, Chinese New Year, Wesak, Thaipusam, and many more Hari Rayas, with characteristic enthusiasm and vibrancy.
The country has often been hailed as a multicultural “success story”, and I am not alone in ardently believing that our multicultural achievement is absolutely fundamental to our economic prosperity and continued growth.
As a firm believer in the virtues and value of diversity, then, I am deeply saddened – and more than a little worried – by the way in which words like “multiculturalism”, “diversity” and “tolerance” have been weaponised in the culture wars of global political discourse today.
We are living in an era of mistrust, exclusion and the very inverse of the Islamic values I highlighted earlier. In countries formerly celebrated for their progressive, inclusive stances, waves of populism have spread hatred, discord and discontent.
Ethnic and religious minorities are increasingly blamed and pushed out when countries go through times of hardship or difficulty. Citizens the world over are becoming less willing, in short, to share their humanity.
To me, this pervasive change in attitude towards multiculturalism is nothing short of a tragedy. It is a tragedy, of course, because it sows seeds of division within countries, which can easily break out into violent conflict, leading to the mass displacement of individuals and the refugee crisis I spoke about earlier.
But it is a tragedy, too, because of what we stand to lose when we reject and deny cultural diversity. Without multiculturalism, I believe that our world becomes infinitely poorer.
Different backgrounds, different faiths, different ethnicities - we all have so much to gain and “learn from one another”, as the Quran enjoins! As Prophet Muhammad encourages, in a popular saying from the Hadith, “seek knowledge even unto (a foreign country like) China!”
How, then, might we measure and demonstrate the immense value of multiculturalism, so as to push back against the rising tide of populism, and the exclusion and rejection of difference?
How do we encourage those who are, perhaps, suspicious of diversity, to appreciate the incredible benefits that arise when we have - to quote a certain John Lennon song I mentioned once before at this conference – “all the people, sharing all the world?’
Well, there are a few metrics of cultural diversity which quantify, not only the number of different groups within a society or country, but also the extent of their integration.
The Stirling Model, for example, combines measurements of variety, balance, and disparity to assess the diversity of cultural expression. Other social scientists have taken measures of ethnic, linguistic and religious fractionalisation within countries to demonstrate that ethnic fractionalisation is a significant predictor of economic performance.
The success of cultural integration, on a national scale, has been assessed according to a variety of indicators, including access to the labour market, education, political participation and housing and social services, using data from population surveys and censuses.
In short, we have an abundance of data, and many ways of using it, to demonstrate the extent of multiculturalism, as well as its various outcomes.
I wonder if numbers are, after all, the most effective medium for understanding and communicating the incredible value of multiculturalism. Because I believe that we feel the benefits of diversity in our societies, not through figures and statistics, but in real stories, experiences and shared human encounters.
So, before I conclude my speech today, I would like to share, in turn, a few specific examples that, I believe, help us to comprehend the richness that emerges when we share our humanity.
My first example comes from over 700 years ago, and concerns the court of Kublai Khan, ruler of the Mongol Empire and, later, Emperor of China in the 13th century.
The Mongol Empire is known to have been relatively tolerant of religious differences, and as such, Kublai Khan appointed many Muslim governors to high-ranking positions in his court, and patronised many Muslim scholars and scientists.
Among them was Jamal al-Din (1250-1286), a Persian astronomer, who helped to develop seven new instruments that greatly progressed the study of astronomy in general, and in particular, allowing for the correction of the Chinese calendar.
In a university setting, such as that in which we are gathered today, this tale of productive, intercultural knowledge exchange seems especially apt.
More than seven centuries ago, collaborations between people from different faith backgrounds were advancing human learning and leading to mutually beneficial developments of science and culture.
This is surely the goal to which all institutions of learning should aspire even today! Indeed, it seems fitting to note here that one of the conference sub-themes is “Nusantara Islam”, a form of Islam which – as you will know – developed in the Malay Archipelago from the 16th century onwards.
This unique tradition of Islam is another example of the way in which Islam has peacefully and productively coexisted with Chinese and also Indian cultural influences for many centuries. It is characterised by tolerance, inclusion and compassion, and I am delighted to see it highlighted for exploration in the context of this conference.
My second example of the fruits of multiculturalism, meanwhile, concerns perhaps the most joyful and vital manifestation of cultural exchange that exists: I am, of course, talking about food, good food! At the most immediate level, sharing a meal with others is a means of extending a welcome: an act of kindness, an offer of friendship, the start of a conversation and fellowship (what the ulama call as suhbah).
Over the longer term, meanwhile, a nation’s cuisine offers an insight into its history of multiculturalism and cultural exchange. Take, for instance, the curry laksa, a noodle dish popular here in Malaysia.
This dish is a fusion of culinary influences from the three main ethnic groups in Peninsular Malaysia: Chinese noodles, Indian curry and Malay herbs and spices.
With many different varieties now enjoyed throughout the country, including by the millions of tourists from all over the globe who visit us every year, laksa represents our rich history of sharing between different cultures, and it goes on being shared.
Recently, I have also come across wonderful stories of refugees from Syria setting up hugely successful restaurants in their new hometowns, including in London.
Syrian cuisine is becoming more and more popular in the United Kingdom, for example, with food serving both as the celebration of a culture, and as a bridge between communities, encouraging dialogue and integration.
There is, perhaps, no hard data to prove that the quality of a country’s cuisine is directly proportional to its cultural diversity but anyone who has ever experienced the bustle and excitement of a vibrant street food market, or luxuriated over a long meal with friends, will know that this is undoubtedly one of the most important ways in which we share our humanity – and I think we are even more conscious of that following the isolation of lockdown.
No wonder our Prophet said in a famous Hadith. “Spread peace and goodwill by sharing food!”
Finally, I would like to mention a quite astounding example of the fruits of multiculturalism from another part of the world which has a special place in my heart.
In Oxford, the city where I studied as an undergraduate, there is a school today called the Oxford Spires Academy, whose students speak over 30 languages, in around 50 dialects.
Around 20 percent of its students are white British, with the remaining 80 percent representing an incredible array of cultural backgrounds, including Nepalese, Brazilian, Tanzanian, Lithuanian and even Korean. Many of the students are refugees, whether from conflict or from poverty, from countries including Kosovo, Somalia, Afghanistan and Syria.
All of them have incredible stories to tell, of homelands and journeys, of families and memories, of former challenges and current ones. And telling their stories is precisely what they have done. With support from the school’s writer-in-residence, the pupils from this institution have written poems about their experiences, now published in a collection called “England: Poems from a School”.
In this collection, one young student’s yearning for Myanmar sits side by side with another’s memories of Poland. They write vividly, beautifully and movingly about the countries they have loved, and the losses they now feel.
For instance, one student from Syria writes:
Can anyone teach me,
how to make a homeland?
Heartfelt thanks if you can,
Heartiest thanks,
From the house-sparrows,
The apple trees of Syria,
And your very sincerely (by Amineh Abou Kerech, 13 years old)
Another, meanwhile, writes:
I have divided my heart,
And half of it is still in Syria.
When the sun shines in Syria,
The warmth flowers in my cheek.
And when the sun sets there,
My heart remembers shadows,
And the closing of flowers (by Mohamed Assaf, 12 years old)
These poems, written by children sometimes no older than 12 or 13, seem to encapsulate, so very poignantly, so much of what I have been speaking about this morning. They are poems born out of turmoil and unrest and the mass displacement of millions of people and refugees worldwide.
But they are also the voices of unique, talented individuals, of humans reaching out and share their stories in a way that, I believe, has the potential to enrich all humankind.
Over the period of this conference, scholars, researchers and practitioners will share their brilliant contributions to the conference sub-themes, including “Integrity and Good Governance”, “Economic Models of Stability and Sustainability” and “Geopolitics and Global Security”. I have no doubt that those of us gathered in this hall today have the potential to make great headway in addressing all of the challenges facing our world today - those “Three Ps” which I have spoken about a number of times in the past.
But, as we come together again, after a long period of separation, it is that third P, of “People”, that I particularly wanted to emphasise today: “people” not just as a mass problem to be solved, but as humans, as gifted, fascinating, endlessly surprising individuals with so much to offer and share.
I passionately believe that our lives are all the richer when we embrace diversity and difference, when we open our doors, our hearts and our minds to others in need. As a certain song (which I hear may be featuring in the conference!) puts it,
We are the world; We are the children;
We are the ones who make a brighter day, so let’s start giving;
There’s a choice we’re making; We’re saving our own lives…
Indeed, “we’re saving our own lives “ - making all of our lives, you and me, better, safer, fuller, and all the more joyful, when we live according to the principles of tolerance and inclusion.
And so, as we embark upon hours of engaging, productive discussion – of sharing – I will leave you with a final thought from that same song: “send them your heart, so they know that someone cares” … after all, “We are the ones who make a brighter day, so let’s start giving!” - Mkini
The above is Perak ruler Sultan Nazrin Shah's speech at the 6th World Conference on Islamic Thought and Civilization (WCIT).
The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of MMKtT.
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