DELHI :
At its core, Muslim History Month is about building an archive, one that reflects the richness and diversity of Muslim experiences across time, space and geography. For me, as an Indian Muslim woman, this work is inseparable from the present moment.
A calligraphic panel installation. Photo courtesy: Karim Jabbar
As an Indian Muslim woman, I had long felt the dissonance of being spoken about rather than being listened to as an equal. In my experience, even in spaces that claimed to centre Muslim issues, Muslim voices, especially those of women, are often sidelined. The authority to narrate our own histories has routinely been denied. This experience is not mine alone.
When I began conversations with my friend and colleague Dr Ashwini K.P., a Dalit woman human rights advocate, and now UN Special Rapporteur on Racism, we quickly recognised the parallels in our experiences. Caste and religion operate differently, but both structure exclusion in similar ways, by determining whose knowledge counts, whose histories are archived, and whose voices are amplified.
Muslim History Month, launched in 2020 by our co-founded organisation, Zariya, emerged from this shared understanding and we celebrate it during the month of Ramadan/Ramzan. It is a community-led initiative that creates space to document, explore, and celebrate the diverse histories, cultures, and contributions of Muslim communities across the world. Through essays, articles and storytelling, it seeks to reclaim narrative authority by centring Muslim voices and highlighting perspectives that are frequently overlooked or misrepresented in mainstream discourse. In recent years, Islamophobia in India has shifted from the margins to the mainstream. It is visible not only in policy debates or organised hate, but also in everyday language, media representation, and cultural production. The repetition of distorted narratives, whether through films like Kerala Story 2 or everyday hate crimes, begin to replace reality. Against this backdrop, the absence of self-represented Muslim narratives becomes more than a gap, it becomes a form of erasure.
Muslim History Month was an attempt to counter this, by shifting the focus from what is said about Muslims to what Muslims say about their own histories, cultures, and lives, globally. The idea of dedicating a month to Muslim histories was inspired by earlier initiatives like Black History Month and Dalit History Month, movements that have long demonstrated the importance of reclaiming histories from erasure and distortion. These efforts remind us that history is not neutral. It is shaped by power, by who gets to record, interpret, and disseminate it. Muslim History Month builds on this legacy by creating a platform where Muslims, alongside allies, reflect on the diversity and complexity of Muslim histories and cultural practices.
One of the most meaningful aspects of this journey has been witnessing how contributors engage with the platform, not just as writers, but as individuals seeking space to reflect. One of our contributors this year, Mai Zarkawi, a Palestinian jewellery designer and visual storyteller, tells me she was inspired to contribute to Muslim History Month because “it creates space to reflect on the depth and diversity of Muslim cultural practices, beyond dominant or simplified narratives.”
The urgency of this work is evident in the dedication of its contributors. Writing from Beirut, Islamic art historian Rima Barakat chose to participate despite being the middle of the ongoing conflict. She reflects that war compels cultural action, noting that, like artists in past world wars, creative expression becomes a way to endure, sustain community, and measure survival through artistic resilience.
Across its three editions, the initiative has evolved in both scope and depth. The first edition brought together reflections on everyday practices and overlooked communities, challenging narrow understandings of what constitutes “history.” Contributions from authors who identified as Pasmanda, Roma, Uyghur and Tsakhur all featured in this edition. The second focused on Muslim women whose contributions have been marginalised or forgotten, seeking to address the gendered erasures that shape historical memory, from Haleema Beevi to Fatima Al-Fihri.
The third edition, which is currently underway, turns to Muslim art and architecture, but in a way that deliberately expands these categories beyond monumental structures or common artistic traditions. Performative arts, art as a means to resistance, light calligraphy, geometry and varied Quranic scripts all form part of this series. Academics, experts and activists in this edition have written about subjects varying from Roghan Art and Islamic Geometry to the importance of Amulets and devotional performative traditions.
The three editions have had contributions from authors from over 15 countries. From Sudan, Egypt and Palestine to India, Nepal, Tunisia and Canada. This global participation is central to the project. Muslims are often treated as a monolithic group in public discourse. Muslim History Month actively resists this by foregrounding differences in language, culture, geography, and lived experience. In the age of AI and tools such as Chat GPT, referencing and footnoting form an important part of these pieces.
This initiative tries to disrupt the idea that history belongs only to grand events or celebrated figures alone. It insists that culture, whether in the form of calligraphy, craft, food, identity, ritual, or storytelling, is central to understanding how communities endure and evolve. For me, this work is inseparable from the present moment. It is shaped by the realities of Islamophobia globally, by the distortions of media and popular culture, and by the urgent need to create alternative spaces of knowledge and expression. But it is also shaped by hope, the belief that by telling our own stories, we can begin to shift how we are seen, understood, and remembered.
As Karim Jabbari, a world renowned Tunisian light and calligraphy artist tells us in his interview, for him, “Calligraphy is the anchor of our history. It is the way our ancestors transmitted knowledge into written form, and it is the link that keeps us grounded. If we understand it, stay faithful to it, and keep our connection with it alive, we are essentially maintaining a living connection with our own history.’
At its core, Muslim History Month is about building an archive, one that reflects the richness and diversity of Muslim experiences across time, space and geography. For me, as an Indian Muslim woman, this work is inseparable from the present moment. It is shaped by the urgency of ensuring that future generations inherit something more than stereotypes about Muslims. We are more than the vengeful, violent, anti national beasts that we are shown to be by the media.
Because beyond the noise of headlines and the weight of propaganda, there exists another set of stories that need to be documented and preserved and this is a humble attempt towards this direction.
Mariya Salim is co-founder of Zariya. She is a human rights activist and an international sexual- and gender-based violence expert based in Delhi.
source: http://www.thewire.in / The Wire / Home> LiveWire / by Mariya Salim / March 19th, 2026
