A rapper finds peace and a channel for his activism through hip-hop and Islam
Brother Ali sits on the steps of a little-known 16th century mosque that’s situated on a hill in Istanbul, Turkey. He’s wearing a fez hat and a tunic, and he says he goes there every day to pray.
For him, the mosque is special because it’s named after Aziz Mahmoud Hudayi, a Sufi saint whose grave is also next to the mosque.
“The reason I come to Aziz Mahmoud is because that man who’s buried right there, he was close to the Ottoman sultan who built the Blue Mosque,” Ali said, referring to the iconic structure that graces the Istanbul skyline. “And he told the truth to the sultan.”
Ali reveres the saint because he stood for justice and truth as a confidante of the Ottoman ruler Sultan Ahmed I. And those values are integral to Ali’s life and rap music.
Brother Ali hit fame in the early 2000s for his hard-hitting critique of racism and inequality in the United States. His rap songs mix the political with the personal. Two decades later, the rapper moved to Istanbul on a spiritual journey as a Muslim. He’s still producing music but he says his political views are making it harder for him to get his music out there.
“Your virtue never dies, your money comes and goes,” he said. “Your freedom comes and goes. Your life just goes.”
Ali was born Jason Douglas Newman in 1977 with a rare genetic condition, known as albinism, which is characterized by a deficiency of melanin in the skin, hair and eyes. His pale skin, light eyes and low vision made him a target for bullying in school.
“So, I always say that the beginning of my life and work and identity and career and everything has to do with the fact that I’m albino, I have albinism,” he explained.
Ali grew up in Minnesota in a broken family with addiction issues. His mother died young and his father took his own life. He said he thought he’d never be a part of any society.
“Really when I was a little kid, I thought I would never have friends, I would never be part of anything.”
Even though Ali is white, it was in the Black community in Minneapolis where he found acceptance. At the age of seven, he realized he could captivate Black family gatherings by dancing and telling stories. There he found his love for hip-hop and the roots of its pain.
“And I already had so much rage and anger about racism in America just from being around my friends,” he said. He added that he had witnessed what his own family — which wasn’t overtly racist — thought about Black people.
Growing up, Ali went to church but said he never connected with Christianity. Then, hip-hop led him to Islam.
He discovered Black Muslim activists and studied leaders like the late Malcolm X, who is one of his heroes.
He converted to Islam when he was 15 years old and changed his name to Ali, after a notable and beloved figure for Muslims from early Islamic history. He said there are many reasons why he was attracted to the faith.
“It’s a true universal religion,” he said. “And it can be expressed in so many different ways.”
The sentiment also plays a huge role in his music.
“The Quran says speak out for justice even if it’s against yourself and your own people,” he said. “And all of the causes that I speak about are self-critiques.”
Brother Ali rose to stardom with his 2003 album “Shadows of the Sun.” The lyrics are self-reflective and delve into themes of identity and social justice. He became a YouTube sensation and was invited to appear on late night talk shows in the US.
His fans love his uncensored critique of US imperialism, racism and inequality. But the 2007 controversial hit song “Uncle Sam G—-” made him a target for US law enforcement. His sponsor, Verizon, canceled his tour.
“It’s interesting because it is my most popular song,” he said. “It’s also the song that’s given me the most trouble.”
Ali says he’s been on government watchlists for years, but that he was never associated with anything violent.
“I have no criminal record. I’ve been arrested one time in my life and it was for civil disobedience,” he said.
He was detained for protesting against wrongful home foreclosures in 2012, and his activism bore fruit. The Occupy Homes movement he was part of resulted in a law that protects homeowners from foreclosures in Minnesota.
After “Uncle Sam G—-” was released, border agents have been interrogating Ali almost every time he reenters the US. His wife and kids have also been questioned.
Sohail Daulatzai, a scholar exploring the intersections of race, culture and politics at UC Irvine, has been following Ali’s work for decades. He said he takes issue with the label “anti-American.”
“I think ‘anti-American,’ like other words that get used, like ‘antisemitism,’” Daulatzai explained, “they’re essentially just cudgels and hammers that end up silencing conversation, as opposed to opening up a conversation and listening to what artists and writers and thinkers [like] Brother Ali are actually saying.”
Ali moved to Turkey with the hope that life might become easier for him there. One of his other passions is Islamic history, and that was part of what led him to move to an ancient city like Istanbul four years ago during the pandemic. He said he also wants to be buried in the country one day.
It was his wife’s idea to live here with their four children as an extension of their spiritual journey. Ali’s been married for 23 years and said he trusts his wife’s instincts. They settled in Uskudar, a relatively religious neighborhood.
“We’re religious foreigners,” Ali explained. “So, the people who are deeply secular and nationalist, we’re the exact people they don’t want to be here. But they’re still polite to us. They’re still good to us.”
Ali said he doesn’t address censorship and human rights in Turkey. As a guest in the country, he limits his music to being critical of the communities he’s from.
Back home in Minneapolis, Ali said he was used to being recognized, and that it’s humbling to be anonymous in Istanbul.
Still, Ali said he’s learning Turkish, producing rap songs and also a podcast. His latest album “Satisfied Soul” was released in February. Yet once again, Ali said the music industry is sidelining him — this time for his pro-Palestinian views.
“Last year, I made an album with the anti-Zionist Jewish producer named unJUST,” Ali said, referring to the musician Justin Herman from Oakland, California, who recently collaborated with him on the album “Love & Service.”
“We had a song called ‘The Collapse’ which was about the [American] empire and it was specifically talking about Gaza,” he said.
Ali, who usually performs 150 paid shows a year worldwide — went a full year without a single paid show after its release. He believes he lost all of his gigs because of his political views.
The financial setback stings. But Ali said he will continue to speak out against injustice because that’s what a true Muslim does.
