Wait, what happened to Muslims?

A journey through Andalusian splendor and modern disconnection

Salam everyone, I pray you’re all well!

Recently, I travelled to Andalusia, a region of Spain that’s been on my wishlist for years. 9 days spent discovering Málaga, Granada, Córdoba, and Sevilla, places where the legacy of those who believed before us deeply touched my soul.

It was one of the best trips of my life. Honestly, I left with awe, feeling very grateful for having been able to experience this Alhamdulillah and I think every Muslim SHOULD do this trip if they can afford it (may Allah increase your rizq and allow you to go!)

However I also left with a lot of frustration and a hint of sadness because every time I would get into one of these architectural gems, see the splendid sculpted calligraphies, arches and courtyards and witness the remembrance of Allah everywhere, I would tell myself: What happened to us? How did we go from being the people who built this and left behind so much beauty infused with meaning that captivates even non-Muslims today, to people who now often shrink their presence, try to fit into molds that were never theirs to begin with or contrariwise, people who misrepresent Islam with darkness, forgetting that it is rooted in light?

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The Rise of Al-Andalus

Here’s a very short history lesson for you: Islam entered the Iberian Peninsula in 711 CE (Hijri 92), when Tariq ibn Ziyad, a Berber commander under the Umayyad Caliphate, crossed the Strait of Gibraltar and defeated the Visigothic king Roderic. What began as a military campaign quickly turned into a civilization named Al-Andalus that would last for nearly 800 years and become one of the most advanced societies of its time.

Al-Andalus was a rich society where Muslims, Christians, and Jews coexisted peacefully (something that has clearly become very difficult in certain places these days, may Allah guide us all and punish the corruptors). Mosques, universities, libraries, and even irrigation systems were built and laid the foundation for much of Europe’s later development. Much of this brilliance was thanks to rulers like Abd al-Rahman II, who saw Islam not just as a what he believed in but as the guiding force behind governance, science, arts, and daily life.

And that is exactly what struck me when I was discovering these places! It wasn’t just the beauty of it all (which actually made me emotional many times) but the depth of thought, details and intention behind them.

Everything served a very specific purpose: to never let you forget its ultimate Owner.

A Reminder of Allah’s Greatness

Over and over, you’d read this:

ولا غالب إلا الله

(wa la ghaliba illa Allah).

There is no victor except Allah.

Muslims in this time were powerful, but they knew Who was The Most Powerful. They conquered Andalusia but were humble enough to know that this was all thanks and for Allah. They had great ambition and understood that ihsan should be reflected in all areas of life, not just in what you do but also, what you live behind.

Nowadays however, we seem to have reduced success in this dunya to something… Shallow.

We see Muslims trying to “prove” that they’ve made it by chasing the same models of success the West has sold us. It’s like we became so outward-facing, constantly comparing ourselves, constantly being obsessed with money and recognition, constantly trying to fit into systems never built for our values. I find this incredibly saddening and frustrating because those who came before us didn’t want to fit into this mold: they were confident in who they were and Who they served. They built these grand palaces, making them absolutely stunning but also, a clear reminder of Allah’s greatness, they didn’t build huge soul-less towers and what not just to prove how rich and advanced they are or hid their practice just so they could fit in better and make sure their colleagues don’t feel uncomfortable around them.

Maybe I’m being tough here, but I mean, isn’t Islam supposed to be the thing you’re the proudest of? Allah, your Creator, has chosen YOU everyday so far to be Muslim out of billions of people and yet you feel like you need to hide it?

After visiting Andalusia, I feel like this isn’t only kind of disrespectful to Him but also, to those who believed before us and who left this wonderful heritage as a proof of what an honor it is to be Muslim. Unfortunately, the problem is that many of us separate their faith from their lifestyles and ambitions, seeing Islam as a limitation rather than a foundation. But truth be told: real success has always been about serving something higher than yourself, and there’s absolutely no barakah in your decisions when you leave Allah out of the equation of life.

The Seeds Are Still Being Planted

Despite all of this and how bitter I sound, I still have hope for the Ummah. Even in a world that feels oddly heavy with distraction and disconnection from what our deen is truly about, I see Muslims showing up in wonderful ways, being absolutely brilliant, kind-hearted, having great ideas and building them, looking to have a positive impact as much as possible not only on themselves but everyone… Alhamdulillah many of us are planting seeds that we might not see bloom but are happy to grow so someone else can benefit from it, and it wouldn’t be fair to not recognize that, even if it’s not as impressive as the Alhambra!

I believe what they do is a huge part of what made Al-Andalus powerful, which wasn’t just the knowledge or beauty of it all, but the alignment. Again, they thought about how they could honor Allah through what they were creating, they didn’t just frame their lives with Islam but instilled it in them and that’s what should guide our choices too.

So, let’s stop trying to perform for the world, to forget to remember, to fear others rather than The One Who matters the most and instead, return to our true purpose in this dunya, aka to be a humble servant of Allah and a source of kheir for others.

Have you ever been to Andalusia? What are your thoughts on all of this?

Looking forward to read you all insha’Allah!

Love and du’as,

Assia