Conventional wisdom holds that there’s a magazine for every audience … but that’s often utterly wrong, as Hira Ahmed discovered. So she decided to make it right and launch the one she wanted to read.
“When I dreamed up this idea, there was no place for Muslims of a left-leaning political ideology to engage in critical discourse about the world we live in and how we want it to look different,” she says, noting that there were indeed magazines focusing on Black Muslim identity like Sapelo Square, or gender identity, like altMuslimah—but nothing broadly focused on the left side of the political spectrum. “Islam informs so much of my political values, and I knew the same was true for others. I saw that magazines such as Jewish Currents had created this space to critically reflect on community and politics, and I thought that was so needed in the American Muslim community.”
Ahmed partnered with creative director Arsh Raziuddin—former AD of The Atlantic and The New York Times’ Opinion section, and former creative director of Bon Appétit—and Acacia was born online and semi-annually in print.
Its first issue released earlier this year, covering a broad spectrum of politics and culture, with fiction, poetry and art to boot: In “The Myth of Bodily Autonomy,” Natalia Latif explored the impact of the overturning of Roe v. Wade and the Muslim response; Sarah Aziza penned an essay on growing up the child of a Palestinian Muslim father and an American Christian mother; Shamira Ibrahim documented the use and impact of “Arab scales” in Western music; Mariam Rahmani and Lamya H discussed Hijab Butch Blues: A Memoir.
The latest issue, released this month, meanwhile, focuses on Palestine. There’s Sanya Mansoor’s “Fury at the Ballot Box”; Matene Toure’s interview with scholar Zoé Samudzi on the historical use of the word genocide; Maira Khwaja’s look at torture, from Guantanamo to Gaza; a profile of poet Mosab Abu Toha.
Underscoring it all: Raziuddin’s deft design and art direction, supplemented by visual contributions from some of the industry’s best creatives.
Below, Ahmed and Raziuddin tell us more about the publication, which is further building out a community through sold-out launches and other events.
Tell us about the need for a publication like this today.
Ahmed: It’s no secret that Muslim-, Arab- and Palestinian-allied journalists are being censored in mainstream media, especially in the last year. We think in light of that censorship, it’s more critical than ever that Muslim voices have a platform to report honestly about the state of our world.
Raziuddin: This kind of censorship seeps into the world of art, affecting what stories we can share visually and how they are commissioned. It’s important to involve Muslim artists and photographers in a wide range of topics, so we aren’t limited to narratives of war, pain, and exoticism.
Arsh, at what point did you get involved? How did the two of you first connect?
Raziuddin: Hira and I had a meet-cute in an elevator. We were both going to another literary magazine party and introduced ourselves. I asked if she was a writer and she said she’s starting a lefty Muslim magazine. The rest was history.
Tell us about the significance of the name Acacia, and how it represents your overall mission.
Ahmed: Our name is a reference to the acacia tree (Vachellia seyal). It’s generally thought to be a tree under which Prophet Muhammad and early followers of Islam sought respite and prayed. In that same tradition, Acacia is a gathering place.
Raziuddin: I imagine the tree taking on various forms, adapting alongside different letters, abstracting itself into varied versions as the magazine evolves.
What made you decide to launch Acacia in print?
Ahmed: Publishing a print edition allows us to build a tangible and enduring legacy of American Muslim political, cultural and artistic production. The internet may seem like forever, but everything on it is ultimately ephemeral. Because most of us don’t own the platforms that host our data, apart from some commendable archival efforts, we have limited tools to preserve our stories for future generations.
We hope that years from now, the back issues of Acacia will tell the story of what it meant to be a Muslim in America during critical political and cultural moments.
Hira Ahmed
Tell us a bit about the editorial breakdown/architecture of the magazine, and how it’s arranged.
Raziuddin: Acacia is broken down into different sections, similar but not necessarily dependent on the front, middle, and back of a book, like a traditional magazine. We have a mix of personal essays, reported essays, feature stories, interviews, poetry, and a photo essay.
How have you selected the issue themes so far?
Ahmed: Our first issue was finalized before Oct. 7, 2023. In some ways, that feels like a different world, and the American Muslim community is certainly in a very different place since the beginning of the genocide. But in the pre-Oct. 7th world, we wanted to tell stories that were affecting us intra-communally. Our cover story “Navigating Culture Wars” from the first issue really captures that effort. It was about rising homophobia in the American Muslim community and specifically an open letter penned by prominent American Muslim imams condemning queerness. I think it resonated with readers because it was something everyone was talking about in the group chat, but, prior to Acacia, there was no space to formally unpack and analyze the subject matter of that story.
The second issue is about Palestine. The genocide has been an all-consuming issue for American Muslims in the past year. It’s hard to imagine how that isn’t the case for everyone. As the genocide worsens, Gaza moves further back into the pages of newspapers. It’s a real shame.
What has been your approach to the stories within? You have assembled such a powerful collection across a broad swath.
Ahmed: We are lucky that such incredible writers want to work with us! There is no shortage of talent in our communities and it’s been such an honor to be able to highlight that. A lot of writers are already thinking about the issues we discuss in the magazine, and we provide a home for that writing. Other times, as fans of certain writers, we will commission pieces that we think our readers would want to read. We have a brilliant group of editors who commission pieces and we deliberate together about what makes it into the issue.
What are your favorite pieces that you’ve run to date?
Raziuddin: It’s hard to pick just one favorite, but I really loved Shamira Ibrahim’s piece on the Arab Scale from Issue 1, and Matene Toure’s interview on genocide in the latest issue. Amir Hamja’s portrait of Noura Erakat in this second issue was absolutely stunning and complemented her interview perfectly.
What has been the most challenging part of the whole endeavor so far?
Ahmed: It’s a logistically large undertaking.
Raziuddin: Especially with a small team, we’re really breaking new ground. There aren’t many folks doing what we’re doing in this way, and we’re creating our own path.
Tell us about the look you set out to achieve through the design.
Raziuddin: I want to strike the right balance between showcasing our community’s artwork and styles that we cherish, while also embracing a modern editorial language and design system. It’s a tricky line to walk.
Tell us a bit about the first two covers.
Raziuddin: In our inaugural issue, we were so lucky to feature Cassi Namoda as our cover artist. Her work is so beautiful—steeped in history and rich with narrative. Sad Man With Roses (awaits his beloved), 2020, captures a tender, poetic quality that was a perfect fit for our first cover. …
For our second cover, we were honored to feature a photograph by Taysir Batniji, a gifted Palestinian artist born in Gaza. His photo essay, Fathers, carries a haunting depth. Each image tells a story of lineage and family, echoing profound themes of loss and memory. It captures what we leave behind in times of war and genocide, highlighting how we, as a community, navigate and reshape our history. This issue confronts the ongoing devastation in Palestine and its broader impact on the Muslim world, while also addressing the rising tide of Islamophobia. We’re thankful for the artists who help us uncover and share the truth through their work. This series was captured back in 2006, many years before Oct. 7, 2023.
Overall, what has the reception been like so far?
Ahmed: We’ve been really moved by the response. There’s nothing more rewarding than having a journalist or a fellow reader express gratitude for Acacia. My favorite anecdote is when we heard from a college student that he was going to cite one of our stories in his senior thesis.
Raziuddin: A friend shared that a young Muslim girl, a budding artist, cried when she held the magazine. It made me cry!
Editor’s Note: PRINT Magazine is committed to publishing a diversity of opinions.