A growing chorus of voices within America’s tech sector are facing an unprecedented moral reckoning as global conflicts—most notably the Israel-Gaza war—cast a stark light on the roles that Silicon Valley giants play in the machinery of modern warfare. Among those being tested are Muslim tech workers, a demographic that has for years been quietly woven into the fabric of companies like Google, Microsoft, and Amazon. Now, as these firms deepen their entanglements with defense contracts and projects explicitly supporting armed forces in Israel, the question of spiritual complicity has erupted into a crisis of conscience for many.
For countless workers in the sector, what was once a distant debate has become personal. Major technology companies, as reported by leading outlets including The Guardian and Wisconsin Muslim Journal, have secured lucrative deals providing cloud infrastructure, artificial intelligence, and analytics to militaries engaged in conflicts with profound civilian ramifications. Employees tracking news of their firms’ involvement with the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) have found themselves wrestling with the ethical weight of their labor—the code they write, the algorithms they refine, the systems they maintain.
This dilemma is sharpened for Muslim employees, who are bound by both secular and religious frameworks of morality. Tradition teaches that believers should “leave something that causes them doubt for something that doesn’t,” a maxim quoted by globally recognized figures like Imam Omar Suleiman, founder of the Yaqeen Institute for Islamic Research. Suleiman’s sermons and educational content, widely consumed by millennial Muslims in the US, have increasingly become rallying points in the ongoing debate about faith, work, and war.
The Yaqeen Institute, often cited as a trusted resource on how to understand and apply Islamic teachings in today’s world, is moving to create a formal framework for such dilemmas. Their forthcoming guidelines aim to help local imams and individual tech workers determine whether they can religiously justify remaining at employers contracting with military or intelligence agencies—especially those implicated in deadly conflicts.
Suleiman urges a contextual approach, asking Muslims to consider both their degree of participation and their ability to mitigate harm internally: “There’s room for the person who holds back the hand of the pharaoh from inside the pharaoh’s court… But they have to demonstrate how exactly [they are] minimizing that harm without at any point becoming a mouthpiece for oppression.” The ethical ambiguity is heightened by the diverse outputs of tech giants, which simultaneously power essential tools for daily life and potentially lethal military applications.
Current guidance from Islamic jurisprudence, as described by Suleiman, distinguishes between work in outrightly impermissible industries—like alcohol or weapons manufacturing—and those in which one’s labor is even indirectly linked to negative outcomes. While the former obligates departure “depending on what layer they participate in and how much need they have,” the latter allows for continued employment, provided one increases charitable activities to offset any participation in actions deemed haram (forbidden). For some, this approach is spiritually sufficient. For others, especially those directly supporting controversial contracts, it rings hollow.
Interviews conducted by The Guardian and further cited in community publications reveal that nearly every Muslim tech worker grappling with this crisis draws inspiration from faith-based perspectives—most often, Suleiman’s. Many report sleepless nights, lengthy debates with peers and mentors, and an intensifying search for ethical alternatives, including employment at firms unaffiliated with militarized contracts or whose business models avoid “haram” verticals entirely.
Notably, the impact is seen beyond individual piety. Muslim Employee Resource Groups (ERGs) have called for transparency, divestment from certain projects, and renewal of corporate social responsibility mandates. Their efforts are sometimes met with resistance from leadership that prioritizes lucrative contracts, shareholder interests, and national security rationales.
Suleiman and scholars sympathetic to the struggles of these workers argue that one’s obligation is proportional to both direct involvement and knowledge. If a data scientist working on general-purpose cloud platforms knows that a slice of their work powers artificial intelligence for drone targeting, the calculus shifts dramatically. Conversely, someone working in a siloed business unit often lacks such clarity. The proposed Yaqeen Institute framework is anticipated to clarify gradations of responsibility and prescribe context-aware guidance.
The stakes are tangible. On the one hand, high-profile walkouts and resignations draw media coverage and prompt shareholder questions about long-term risk. On the other, quiet resignations or refusals to participate in certain projects often go unnoticed but still exert pressure on company culture. Some worry, however, that such actions risk endangering one’s career prospects, especially in a market dominated by interconnected conglomerates.
From an employer’s perspective, the specter of employee discontent—especially when bound up with moral and spiritual conviction—is a management challenge that defies the usual PR playbook. Companies have responded variably: some promising greater transparency in project selection, others simply doubling down on the absolute necessity of “defense” work for the national interest.
This collaborative approach is enhanced by social media’s reach: sermons, khutbahs, and digital resources from leadership figures like Suleiman are accessible at scale, equipping employees with material to challenge inaction or complicity. The Yaqeen Institute’s initiative to formalize guidance promises to set a benchmark for future engagements between religion and the technology sector.
Beyond spiritual clarity, this resource will serve as a project of collective conscience—its release is expected to inform company ERGs, policy discussions, and lobby efforts within and outside faith communities. In a sector known for individualism, such collectivization of moral inquiry is itself a quiet revolution.
There is also the peril of moral burnout. Workers at the intersection of deep faith and a high-pressure industry may face compounded stress, feeling both spiritually and professionally compromised. Individual acts of resistance—well-meaning but atomized—are vulnerable to being neutralized by the immense scale of multinational corporations.
On a broader level, focusing exclusively on contracts with the IDF or Israeli government, while morally understandable, raises questions about consistency. Will similar guidance emerge for US, Chinese, or other defense contracts with problematic human rights records? The risk of selective outrage, even if inadvertently, must not be discounted.
Tech companies are only just beginning to reckon with the reality that their global workforce is not ethically homogenous. For Muslim employees wrestling with an acute spiritual crisis, the answer cannot be found in a single khutbah or a one-size-fits-all policy. It will require careful consideration of jurisprudential tradition, corporate transparency, and the strength to act according to one’s values, even when the path is risky or unclear.
What is clear is this: as global conflicts interlock with the platforms and products made on US soil, workers are ever more an integral part of the story, not just background contributors. Whether or not the forthcoming frameworks and protest movements can reshape big tech’s culture remains an open question, but the debate itself has irrevocably changed what it means to sit at the intersection of code and conscience.
The challenge for Silicon Valley and its workers, Muslim and non-Muslim alike, will be to find models of engagement that neither ignore the realities of power nor resign themselves to powerlessness. The coming years will reveal whether this moment of moral reckoning can lead to durable change—or whether tech, like so much else in our times, simply adapts conflict to its own designs, business as usual.
Source: Wisconsin Muslim Journal As big tech grows more involved in Gaza, Muslim workers are wrestling with a spiritual crisis - Wisconsin Muslim Journal
The Ethical Dilemma: When Code Becomes Complicity
For countless workers in the sector, what was once a distant debate has become personal. Major technology companies, as reported by leading outlets including The Guardian and Wisconsin Muslim Journal, have secured lucrative deals providing cloud infrastructure, artificial intelligence, and analytics to militaries engaged in conflicts with profound civilian ramifications. Employees tracking news of their firms’ involvement with the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) have found themselves wrestling with the ethical weight of their labor—the code they write, the algorithms they refine, the systems they maintain.This dilemma is sharpened for Muslim employees, who are bound by both secular and religious frameworks of morality. Tradition teaches that believers should “leave something that causes them doubt for something that doesn’t,” a maxim quoted by globally recognized figures like Imam Omar Suleiman, founder of the Yaqeen Institute for Islamic Research. Suleiman’s sermons and educational content, widely consumed by millennial Muslims in the US, have increasingly become rallying points in the ongoing debate about faith, work, and war.
The Role of Faith-Based Guidance in Modern Workspaces
A defining moment in this evolving discourse came when Suleiman addressed a packed mosque in Virginia, urging congregants to “have some dignity” and resign from jobs at arms manufacturers. His words swiftly circulated across social networks, echoed in group chats and digital forums as programmers, engineers, and analysts weighed their futures at firms like Google and Microsoft. But the imam’s own position on roles at tech companies—particularly those that do not directly manufacture weapons, but support entities that do—is nuanced. He acknowledges that “it is not as clearcut if coding productivity tools poses the same grave transgression as building a bomb.” This distinction, though, offers little solace to those whose skills are inextricably linked to a company’s broader activity, especially when that activity includes support for surveillance, targeting, or logistical planning in war zones.The Yaqeen Institute, often cited as a trusted resource on how to understand and apply Islamic teachings in today’s world, is moving to create a formal framework for such dilemmas. Their forthcoming guidelines aim to help local imams and individual tech workers determine whether they can religiously justify remaining at employers contracting with military or intelligence agencies—especially those implicated in deadly conflicts.
Multi-Layered Realities: Pragmatism and Principle
The scenarios facing Muslim tech workers are frequently complex. Many are bound to their jobs by necessity—visa status, financial obligations, family responsibilities. Others may not even work directly on military-related products: a developer at LinkedIn (a subsidiary of Microsoft) or a data scientist on a nonmilitarized project may wonder how much responsibility they bear for parent-company contracts.Suleiman urges a contextual approach, asking Muslims to consider both their degree of participation and their ability to mitigate harm internally: “There’s room for the person who holds back the hand of the pharaoh from inside the pharaoh’s court… But they have to demonstrate how exactly [they are] minimizing that harm without at any point becoming a mouthpiece for oppression.” The ethical ambiguity is heightened by the diverse outputs of tech giants, which simultaneously power essential tools for daily life and potentially lethal military applications.
Current guidance from Islamic jurisprudence, as described by Suleiman, distinguishes between work in outrightly impermissible industries—like alcohol or weapons manufacturing—and those in which one’s labor is even indirectly linked to negative outcomes. While the former obligates departure “depending on what layer they participate in and how much need they have,” the latter allows for continued employment, provided one increases charitable activities to offset any participation in actions deemed haram (forbidden). For some, this approach is spiritually sufficient. For others, especially those directly supporting controversial contracts, it rings hollow.
Solidarity, Protests, and Growing Pressures Inside Big Tech
Tech worker activism is not new—employee-led protests shaped the infamous walkouts at Google against Project Maven and cloud deals tied to the Pentagon. What is novel now is the rise in religiously motivated dissent. Demonstrations, such as those outside the Seattle Convention Center with protesters waving Palestinian flags and unfurling banners denouncing tech complicity in “apartheid,” reflect a palpable convergence of faith, professional identity, and global politics.Interviews conducted by The Guardian and further cited in community publications reveal that nearly every Muslim tech worker grappling with this crisis draws inspiration from faith-based perspectives—most often, Suleiman’s. Many report sleepless nights, lengthy debates with peers and mentors, and an intensifying search for ethical alternatives, including employment at firms unaffiliated with militarized contracts or whose business models avoid “haram” verticals entirely.
Notably, the impact is seen beyond individual piety. Muslim Employee Resource Groups (ERGs) have called for transparency, divestment from certain projects, and renewal of corporate social responsibility mandates. Their efforts are sometimes met with resistance from leadership that prioritizes lucrative contracts, shareholder interests, and national security rationales.
The Complications of Corporate Structure and Individual Agency
A key challenge for Muslim workers—and indeed all conscientious employees—is the increasingly diffuse nature of big tech conglomerates. Few firms are monolithic: Alphabet’s Google, for example, manages everything from consumer email to AI-based threat assessment for defense; Microsoft spans both professional networking and next-generation cloud hosting for weapons systems. In this environment, ethical neatness is rare. Those who wish to “minimize harm” must first navigate byzantine reporting lines, commercial secrecy, and limited visibility into project-level involvement.Suleiman and scholars sympathetic to the struggles of these workers argue that one’s obligation is proportional to both direct involvement and knowledge. If a data scientist working on general-purpose cloud platforms knows that a slice of their work powers artificial intelligence for drone targeting, the calculus shifts dramatically. Conversely, someone working in a siloed business unit often lacks such clarity. The proposed Yaqeen Institute framework is anticipated to clarify gradations of responsibility and prescribe context-aware guidance.
Broader Ramifications: The Future of Ethical Tech
As conflicts endure and the world scrutinizes the intersection of business, technology, and human rights, Muslim workers find themselves at the forefront of calls for a moral revitalization of Silicon Valley. Their struggle is neither isolated nor abstract: it mirrors wider societal demands for transparency, justness, and limits on profit derived from suffering.The stakes are tangible. On the one hand, high-profile walkouts and resignations draw media coverage and prompt shareholder questions about long-term risk. On the other, quiet resignations or refusals to participate in certain projects often go unnoticed but still exert pressure on company culture. Some worry, however, that such actions risk endangering one’s career prospects, especially in a market dominated by interconnected conglomerates.
From an employer’s perspective, the specter of employee discontent—especially when bound up with moral and spiritual conviction—is a management challenge that defies the usual PR playbook. Companies have responded variably: some promising greater transparency in project selection, others simply doubling down on the absolute necessity of “defense” work for the national interest.
Looking Ahead: Critical Questions and Unresolved Tensions
At this crossroads, several inescapable questions loom:- How much responsibility does an individual bear for the actions of their employer, particularly in organizations where divisions of labor are opaque?
- Can “minimizing harm” from the inside ever outweigh the risk of being co-opted as a “mouthpiece for oppression”?
- What is the threshold at which religious or moral objections must yield to practical necessities—family, immigration status, lack of alternatives—and who gets to decide where that line is drawn?
- Will a clear, religiously grounded framework actually sway the behavior of major tech employers, or will responsibility ultimately remain a matter of personal conscience?
Strengths and Opportunities of Faith-Based Advocacy
It is important to acknowledge notable strengths in the current wave of faith-oriented advocacy within big tech. Muslim workers are leveraging their tradition’s rich discourse on justice, intention, and community welfare, bringing a moral vocabulary often missing in profit-driven environments. By leaning into regional networks—imams, institutes, grassroots groups—they are not acting in isolation but in conversation with a broader moral universe.This collaborative approach is enhanced by social media’s reach: sermons, khutbahs, and digital resources from leadership figures like Suleiman are accessible at scale, equipping employees with material to challenge inaction or complicity. The Yaqeen Institute’s initiative to formalize guidance promises to set a benchmark for future engagements between religion and the technology sector.
Beyond spiritual clarity, this resource will serve as a project of collective conscience—its release is expected to inform company ERGs, policy discussions, and lobby efforts within and outside faith communities. In a sector known for individualism, such collectivization of moral inquiry is itself a quiet revolution.
Risks and Uncertainties
Yet there are meaningful risks. As many experts warn, explicit religious activism in secular corporations can provoke managerial backlash, or even inadvertently trigger Islamophobic responses in strained global climates. Meanwhile, the ability of formal religious guidance to change actual corporate behavior remains unproven. Some companies could simply sideline dissenting voices, or exploit “diversity” optics to mask business as usual.There is also the peril of moral burnout. Workers at the intersection of deep faith and a high-pressure industry may face compounded stress, feeling both spiritually and professionally compromised. Individual acts of resistance—well-meaning but atomized—are vulnerable to being neutralized by the immense scale of multinational corporations.
On a broader level, focusing exclusively on contracts with the IDF or Israeli government, while morally understandable, raises questions about consistency. Will similar guidance emerge for US, Chinese, or other defense contracts with problematic human rights records? The risk of selective outrage, even if inadvertently, must not be discounted.
Toward a More Ethical Tech Industry
As the ethical debate within big tech heats up, sparked in part by the lived experiences of Muslim software engineers, project managers, and system architects, the entire sector is being forced into uncomfortable but necessary self-examination. Will product decisions continue to be made purely along lines of revenue and geopolitics, or is there room for pluralistic, principled dissent from within?Tech companies are only just beginning to reckon with the reality that their global workforce is not ethically homogenous. For Muslim employees wrestling with an acute spiritual crisis, the answer cannot be found in a single khutbah or a one-size-fits-all policy. It will require careful consideration of jurisprudential tradition, corporate transparency, and the strength to act according to one’s values, even when the path is risky or unclear.
What is clear is this: as global conflicts interlock with the platforms and products made on US soil, workers are ever more an integral part of the story, not just background contributors. Whether or not the forthcoming frameworks and protest movements can reshape big tech’s culture remains an open question, but the debate itself has irrevocably changed what it means to sit at the intersection of code and conscience.
The challenge for Silicon Valley and its workers, Muslim and non-Muslim alike, will be to find models of engagement that neither ignore the realities of power nor resign themselves to powerlessness. The coming years will reveal whether this moment of moral reckoning can lead to durable change—or whether tech, like so much else in our times, simply adapts conflict to its own designs, business as usual.
Source: Wisconsin Muslim Journal As big tech grows more involved in Gaza, Muslim workers are wrestling with a spiritual crisis - Wisconsin Muslim Journal
