Beyond Bricks and Mortar: Addressing the Leadership Gap in Our Mosques
We see boards that can debate the cost of HVAC systems for hours but are paralyzed when it's time to address the "unmosqued" who no longer feel welcome. We have, perhaps unintentionally, promoted a culture where administrative busy-work is valued over empathetic, courageous leadership.
By Muneeb Nasir
Over the last few decades, the Muslim community in North America has achieved something truly remarkable.
We have moved from praying in rented basements to constructing magnificent, multi-million-dollar facilities.
These buildings stand as a testament to our growth and our financial success.
But as we admire the building with its beautiful calligraphy, many of us are starting to feel a growing sense of unease.
While our buildings are expanding, our communal impact often feels stagnant.
We find ourselves asking: Have we become more focused on managing real estate than on mentoring souls?
The Chacha Archetype and the Power Gap
In a recent reflection on his LinkedIn profile, author and strategist Saqib Qureshi captured this phenomenon through the archetype of the "Chacha"—the well-meaning uncle found in every community who possesses no obvious professional skill set for leadership but has a deep, personal need to feel important.
As Qureshi points out, these individuals may not be equipped to tackle Islamophobia, tackle social needs of the community, or think strategically about the next 20 years.
However, they are experts at sitting on committees, arguing over expanding the mosque, resurfacing the parking lot, the colour of the carpet, and policing who is "proper."
The result is what Qureshi calls "seriousness being replaced by symbolism."
We assign titles like "Treasurer Sahib" or "Vice Chairman" to those who crave status, while the community’s real problems—under-employment, poverty youth alienation, and Islamophobia—remain exactly where they were.
We are left with communities that have high numbers but very little actual social influence.
The Peter Principle in the Mosque
This leads to a spiritual variation of the "Peter Principle," where individuals rise to their level of incompetence within our sacred spaces.
We often appoint leaders because they have been around the longest or are credentialed.
We assume that because someone can oversee a renovation project, they are naturally equipped to lead a religious community.
The result is a leadership style that excels at renovation but struggles with relation.
We see boards that can debate the cost of HVAC systems for hours but are paralyzed when it's time to address the "unmosqued" who no longer feel welcome.
We have, perhaps unintentionally, promoted a culture where administrative busy-work is valued over empathetic, courageous leadership.
A Mirror of Our Own Priorities
If we find our leadership lacking, we must look at ourselves as a jamaat (congregation).
The leadership of any institution is a reflection of the people who put them there.
For too long, we have been content to be "passive consumers."
When we only show up for Friday prayers or for Taraweeh prayers in Ramadan and stay silent in how the mosque functions, we create a vacuum.
That vacuum is filled by those who, as Qureshi notes, are "willing to be important rather than useful."
By prioritizing "safe" candidates who won't "rock the boat," we have inadvertently chosen the preservation of the building over the evolution of the community.
Returning to the Prophetic Trust
Leadership in our tradition is a sacred trust (an Amanah).
The Qur’an is clear about the weight of this responsibility: "God commands you [people] to return things entrusted to you to their rightful owners, and, if you judge between people, to do so with justice: God’s instructions to you are excellent, for He hears and sees everything." (4:58).
"Returning the trust" means ensuring that the people at the helm have the specific competency and communal empathy required for the task.
It means recognizing that a mosque leader must be a bridge-builder between the sacred text and the modern context.
A New Vision for Governance
To move forward, we don’t need to tear down our buildings; we need to build up our people.
We need to shift toward competency-based governance.
This means actively seeking out social workers, educators, and policy experts to serve on our boards.
It means valuing "skills and courage" as much as we value "tea and samosa."
We must ask: Is our mosque a place where a person in crisis feels safe? Is it a place that builds real capacity for the next generation?
If the answer is "no," then no amount of marble can fix it.
It is time for us to stop acting like real estate developers and start acting like the community builders we were meant to be.
Our buildings are complete; it is now time to focus on the hearts—and the power—inside them.