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Pediatric palliative care services improve the quality of life for children with life-limiting and life-threatening diseases, although little has been published about variation based on cultural and religious factors. This article sets out to describe clinical and cultural characteristics of pediatric end-of-life patients in a majority Jewish and Muslim country with religious and legal constraints around end-of-life care.
Methods
We conducted a retrospective chart review of 78 pediatric patients who died during a 5-year period and could potentially have utilized pediatric palliative care services.
Results
Patients reflected a range of primary diagnoses, most commonly oncologic diseases and multisystem genetic disorders. Patients followed by the pediatric palliative care team had less invasive therapies, more pain management and advance directives, and more psychosocial support. Patients from different cultural and religious backgrounds had similar levels of pediatric palliative care team follow-up but certain differences in end-of-life care.
Significance of results
In a culturally and religiously conservative context that poses constraints on decision-making around end-of-life care, pediatric palliative care services are a feasible and important means of maximizing symptom relief, as well as emotional and spiritual support, for children at the end of life and their families.
This article provides a textured history of the multivalent term “hindu” over 2,500 years, with the goal of productively unsettling what we think we know. “Hindu” is a ubiquitous word in modern times, used by scholars and practitioners in dozens of languages to denote members of a religious tradition. But the religious meaning of “hindu” and its common use are quite new. Here I trace the layered history of “hindu,” part of an array of shifting identities in early and medieval India. In so doing, I draw upon an archive of primary sources—in Old Persian, New Persian, Sanskrit, Prakrit, Hindi, Marathi, Bengali, and more—that offers the kind of multilingual story needed to understand a term that has long cut across languages in South Asia. Also, I do not treat premodernity as a prelude but rather recognize it as the heart of this tale. So much of South Asian history—including over two thousand years of using the term “hindu”—has been misconstrued by those who focus only on British colonialism and later. We need a deeper consideration of South Asian pasts if we are to think more fruitfully about the terms and concepts that order our knowledge. Here, I offer one such contribution that marshals historical material on the multiform and fluid word “hindu” that can help us think more critically and precisely about this discursive category.
Sectarian divisions within the Islamic world have long been misunderstood and misconstrued by the media and the general public. In this book, Adam R. Gaiser offers an accessible introduction to the main Muslim sects and schools, returning to the roots of the sectarian divide in the Medieval period. Beginning with the death of Muhammed and the ensuing debate over who would succeed him, Gaiser outlines how the umma (Muslim community) came to be divided. He traces the history of the main Muslim sects and schools – the Sunnis, Shi'ites, Kharijites, Mu'tazila and Murji'a – and shows how they emerged, developed, and diverged from one another. Exploring how medieval Muslims understood the idea of 'sect', Gaiser challenges readers to consider the usefulness and scope of the concept of 'sectarianism' in this historical context. Providing an overview of the main Muslim sects while problematising the assumptions of previous scholarship, this is a valuable resource for both new and experienced readers of Islamic history.
The chapter focuses on religious and ethnic affiliation as social factors that influence the structure of variation in several Arabic-speaking communities. We go beyond the simplistic correlations between religious/ethnic groupings and language, and seek to uncover the histories and social meanings of variation based on such groupings. We include examples, both old and new, to illustrate variation according to these factors.
A History of Anti-Semitism examines the history, culture and literature of antisemitism from antiquity to the present. With contributions from an international team of scholars, whose essays were specially commissioned for this volume, it covers the long history of antisemitism starting with ancient Greece and Egypt, through the anti-Judaism of early Christianity, and the medieval era in both the Christian and Muslim worlds when Jews were defined as 'outsiders,' especially in Christian Europe. This portrayal often led to violence, notably pogroms that often accompanied Crusades, as well as to libels against Jews. The volume also explores the roles of Luther and the Reformation, the Enlightenment, the debate over Jewish emancipation, Marxism, and the social disruptions after World War 1 that led to the rise of Nazism and genocide. Finally, it considers current issues, including the dissemination of hate on social media and the internet and questions of definition and method.
Chapter 2 provides an in-depth exploration of the more open state opposition structure of the Hosni Mubarak regime – which groups were co-opted, which were included and allowed to participate, and which were excluded from formal political participation – and traces the impact of these different types of opportunity structures on the political and outreach activities that different groups undertook. We see that opposition groups that were excluded from the formal political system, such as Islamist groups and pro-reform umbrella groups, adjusted their strategies in response to exclusion and were alternately tolerated and repressed by the regime. During periods of toleration, these groups – especially Islamist groups – were able to establish an extensive grassroots presence through charities, community self-help organizations, private mosques, and individual religious outreach activities. These activities at the grassroots level, while not always directly confronting the state, constituted the construction of a “parallel society” that quietly contested the regime’s legitimacy. During periods of repression, members of these groups retreated underground and into informal networks until they found new venues through which to engage with their communities.
Faiz’s literary pursuits are difficult to disentangle from the wider political trajectory out of which he emerged and impacted. I argue that Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s ethical self-fashioning as a political subject was deeply rooted within Perso-Arabic, Indo-Persian, and Urdu literary traditions even as he became increasingly invested in internationalist solidarity. I show that Faiz’s poetry, deeply rooted in Urdu literary and ethical traditions and composed during incarceration and exile, demonstrated his revulsion for the narrow confines of territorial nationalism and the authoritarianism of the postcolonial state.
This chapter contends that Manto’s trials signify a paradoxical sociopolitical context when it came to questions of women and sexuality: middle-class women became more visible in public and more highly educated in the formal sense, but there was also a shift in expressions of sexuality. This chapter argues that a complex and critical reassessment of Manto’s ethical self-fashioning through an examination of official documents, literary materials, and debates within progressive literary circles over representations of sexuality, enhances an understanding of the larger cultural and political developments of a turbulent period when it comes to the politics of sexuality. Finally, moral discourses, particularly around sexuality, were also prevalent within progressive, communist, and socialist intellectual circles as well, giving rise to hegemonic definitions and distinctions about who constituted the ideal literary progressive.
“Feminist Literary Ethics and Censorship,” is devoted to historically contextualizing the work of feminist Urdu poets of the 1970s and 1980s in Pakistan. It argues that the burgeoning of feminist Urdu literature in this period represents a revitalization of the progressive literary movement, which is often schematized as having come to an end by 1950s or 1960s. The chapter begins by tracing the genealogies and the long history of South Asian Muslim women’s writing in Urdu, the gender politics and patriarchal modes of Urduphone progressive intellectual spaces, and Pakistani nationalism. Then it turns to the life, work, and context of the Urduphone intellectual and feminist poet and writer Fahmida Riaz (1946–2018) who was at the vanguard of feminist politico-literary transformations in Pakistan.
A historiography of South Asian Muslim nationalism and the place of Urdu progressive literature within a broader political context of independence struggles against colonial rule in India and Pakistan.
Through an engagement with the histories of Muslim pasts, presences, and absences in the locality of Jangpura-Bhogal in the Indian capital city of Delhi, this article examines the constitutive relationship between displacements and city-making. It addresses Jangpura-Bhogal's post-colonial history (1947–present) through instances of the erasure of Muslim property, spaces, and histories, and the reoccupations, replacements, and redefinition of spaces, properties, and memories that they constituted. The article shows how protracted material displacements of Muslim property and spaces have contributed to the erasure of a Muslim historical presence from Jangpura-Bhogal. By tracing the afterlives of these material displacements, it tracks how narrative discourses draw on these Muslim absences and the sense of an abstract ‘diverse space’ to produce new sets of exclusions and practices of Othering in the present. The discussion focuses on the processual/everyday, ‘below the radar’, and, at times, invisible displacements, more than sudden eruptions of violence or overt ideological projects aimed at a deliberate Muslim erasure. Thus, Delhi's post-colonial history is not only about the well-rehearsed story of migrations and arrivals but equally about departures and displacements that have produced the neighbourhood and the city as particular kinds of majoritarian places and spaces. Current acts of Muslim displacement, that is, the Delhi ‘riots’ of February 2020 are enabled not only through visible and violent histories of Muslim marginalization, but also by longer histories of non-overt erasures, displacements, and replacements.
In Spain, we are forced to familiarize ourselves with Arab-Muslim culture to properly treat our patients. The diagnosis becomes complicatedbecause western health professionals are not usually familiar with thisform of symptom presentation.
Objectives
The objective of this work is to study the influence of Arab culture and Muslim religion on the psychopathological symptoms presented duringa psychotic episode.
Methods
We present two cases of psychosis in two brothers of Maghreb originwho were treated for the first psychotic episode in the acute psychiatricunit in a Spanish regional hospital. Then, we carried out a litle researchfrom the literatura.
Results
The common psychopathological symptoms presented by two brothersof 26 and 27 years were: symptoms of thought, control and influence of the self. Delusional ideas of self-referential harm and persecution. Auditory and cenesthetic hallucinations. In the literature we find that patients with Islamic backgrounds whosuffer hallucinations can attribute these experiences to different beliefssuch as geniuses (jinn), black magic and the evil eye. One of the siblings was diagnosed with a psychotic episode withoutspecification, while the other brother got the schizophrenia label. Webelieve that this may be related to the fact that mental healthprofessionals generally tend to label fantastic stories as mind-blowingor delusional in nature.
Conclusions
1. Religious beliefs and fantastic tales of Muslim culture can be considered psychotic symptoms if healthcare professionals are notfamiliar with this culture. 2. Teamwork between mental health professionals, translators and religious counselors can improve care for Muslim patients.
This chapter examines the practice of internal self-determination in the context of the ethnic conflict in Sri Lanka. It examines the Tamil minority struggle for self-determination, and how the demands for both federalism and separatism have been made through the broader language of self-determination. The chapter shows how different minority groups make demands which amount to internal self-determination, how the government responds to such demands, and also how the language of internal self-determination has been viewed skeptically by the Tamil minority. The chapter shows the potential and problems internal self-determination as a concept holds in the context of a protracted ethnic conflict.
Shows how narrative approaches and storytelling within communities can be an important way of tracing how community and individual identity are tied to interaction around sacred texts and rituals, even in informal settings.
Though violence is endemic to the founding of the US nation-state, this chapter focuses on the violence inflicted on certain types of individuals following the attacks of September 11, 2001 that set in motion the USA’s “global war on terror.” Through engaging poems, novels, and plays by South Asian, Arab, and Muslim American writers, this chapter seeks to answer three basic questions. (1) In the period after September 11, 2001, which subsets of the US population have been deemed most problematic, and why? (2) Is there political and popular will to imagine these populations as welcome members of the US body politic? (3) How can these populations be envisioned as important and productive additions to the nation, and what is the advantage of so doing? The chapter argues that a perpetual state of suspicion and hostility against certain groups of people weakens a nation and slowly erodes those bonds of “imagined community” that give a country its strength and resolve. To be in a state of high alert, to be always primed for conflict, depletes a nation’s resources and distracts it from focusing on the future. The literary texts reveal that negative emotions attenuate a nation’s capacity to imagine a future that is generative and enriching, and, instead, trap the nation in a never-ending cycle of fear, watchfulness, and mistrust of residents.
What explains South Korean public opposition for refugees and does the public differentiate among groups? Although a sizable literature addresses perceptions of North Korean arrivals, few studies directly compare sentiment for this group to others. Using an original web survey with an embedded experimental design, we find clear greater support for accepting North Korean arrivals compared to both non-ethnic Korean refugees and Muslim refugees. Additional analysis finds clear majorities view Islam as incompatible with Korean values. Our results suggest the challenge of encouraging multiculturalism in the largely homogeneous country.
The imposition of protective health protocols in public spaces to curb the spread of coronavirus disease (COVID-19) has confronted the ritual of congregational prayers in mosques for Muslims. This study examines the adoption of protective behaviors in the early stage of the COVID-19 outbreak and the influence of religion on risk perception by comparing precautionary behaviors in public and in mosques.
Methods:
Data were collected through an online survey of 327 Muslim men across the Aceh Province, Indonesia, from April 21, 2020, to May 2, 2020. The Wilcoxon signed-rank test and the paired t-test were employed to compare the uptake of protective behaviors in public and mosques.
Results:
The adoption of protective behaviors was higher in public rather than in mosques. It further revealed that the understanding of Islamic teachings during the pandemic has influenced perceived risk and the way Muslim men comply with the protective guidelines. Those who have complete, incomplete, or no compliance of precautionary behaviors have their own interpretation of Islamic teachings that inform their individual actions to manage the risk.
Conclusion:
This study suggests the significance of religious views for developing public health preparedness during the current and future pandemics in Aceh and other Muslim majority regions.
This chapter begins with a discussion of the different reactions toward criticism of ḥadīth found in the Ṣaḥīḥayn. Is there a consensus on the authenticity of the Ṣaḥīḥayn or have they always been open to re-examination? Next, I analyze Albānī’s ḥadīth methodology and the criticism he attracted. One would imagine that Albānī was a very strict and cautious ḥadīth scholar, but much of the criticism he received was due to leniency in his methodology. In particular, he was often criticized for using abridged versions of ḥadīth manuals to make decisions. Finally, the chapter ends by looking at the impact Albānī had on modern ḥadīth studies. In the 1960s it was not common practice for scholars to cite the ḥadīth they quoted or even note their level of authenticity. However, after Albānī we find that many authors, even his critics, started grading each ḥadīth. The most important result was that a generation of university students tried to evaluate any ḥadīth they would use in their dissertations.
The state is legally required to be neutral towards religion, but in many countries it is increasingly anything but. This book conducts a comparative legal analysis of the church–state relationship within and between western countries – including the USA, France and Israel – that are key players in international and domestic dynamics in which religion and religious conflict take centre stage. It analyses how government accommodates diversity, how policies of multiculturalism and pluralism translate into legislation, the extent to which they address matters of religion and belief and what pattern of related issues then come before the courts. Finally, it considers how civil society and democracy in general can maintain a balance between the interests of those of different religions and beliefs and those of none. In this illuminating study, Kerry O'Halloran shows how the relationship between religion and government affects civil society and the functioning of democracy in North America and Europe.
In the nineteenth-century South Caucasus, hundreds of local farmers and nomads petitioned Russian authorities to allow them to become Christians. Most of them were Muslims and specifically requested to join the Armenian Apostolic Church. This article explores religious conversions to Armenian Christianity on Russia's mountainous southern border with the Ottoman Empire and Iran. It demonstrates that tsarist reforms, chiefly the peasant reform and the sedentarization of nomads, accelerated labor migration within the region, bringing many Muslims, Yazidis, and Assyrians into an Armenian environment. Local anxieties over Russian colonialism further encouraged conversions. I argue that by converting to Armenian Christianity many rural South Caucasians benefited from a change in their legal status, which came with the right to move residence, access to agricultural land, and other freedoms. Russia's Jewish communities, on the other hand, saw conversion to Armenian Christianity as a legal means to circumvent discrimination and obtain the right to live outside of the Pale of Settlement. By drawing on converts’ petitions and officials’ decisions, this article illustrates that the Russian government emerged as an ultimate arbiter of religious conversions, evaluating the sincerity of petitioners’ faith and how Armenian they had become, while preserving the empire's religious and social hierarchies.