by Ibrahim Essa
“You tell me.”
“Well, I could tell you, though it’s not proper for me to say anything, out of respect for the patient’s privacy.”
“No, don’t get me wrong, doctor. I asked if he had problems and you said yes. But you didn’t say he was ill. Is he ill or does he just have problems?”
“I’m not sure quite what you mean.”
“Someone who’s ill is ill, doctor. They have depression. They have obsessive delusions. They have psychotic schizophrenia. But someone who has problems, that would apply to you or me, my wife or your wife.”
Muhyi laughed and his age showed beneath his hair that was dyed pitch black. “You’ve turned out to be quite the psychologist, Mawlana.”
“Did I tell you, doctor, that I used to be a lutist? You know what a lutist is? It’s someone who plays the lute at parties. That was when I was still pretty much a child, and at the same time I was a preacher and Quran reader at funerals. Anyone who has experiences like that deserves a doctorate in psychology, an honorary doctorate from the university of lousy life.”
Muhyi laughed. “Of course the kid’s suffering from severe emotional deprivation,” he said. “And alienation from his family and community. On top of that he has a lively conscience somehow or other, and he’s aware of the corruption and abuse of influence that surrounds him. I think this business of changing his religion is part of a psychological protest against society, but the kid’s very serious about becoming Christian. He’s studied hard and what he says about Islam is really bad and offensive.”
As they said goodbye at the door, Hatem said, “To be honest, doctor, Islam won’t be upset by the offensive things he says about it or even by his decision to quit Islam, but I feel sorry for the kid leaving Islam and turning to Christianity because he won’t have done anything at all. The Ahmed who makes the pilgrimage to Mecca is just like the Ahmed who makes the pilgrimage to Jerusalem.”
“You’re joking of course, Mawlana.”
Hatem bowed his head. “These days the people who hear jokes are sometimes more frightened of the jokes than the people who make them,” he said.
Hassan came primed and defiant. He had a chain round his neck with a cross hanging on his chest, and wore a shirt with the words ‘I Love Jesus’ written in English. The meeting was at Hatem’s office in the apartment that for years he had used for dealings with producers, his program team, and for meetings. He had wanted to insulate his private house from the intrusion of the ordinary people, saints or sinners, that he met in this office, which was small but stylish and neat. He had one assistant there, Farahat, an elderly man who was hard of hearing, and Hatem saw his deafness as his only qualification for the job. Khodeiri was the young janitor in his twenties and had the run of the place. His job description was to prepare drinks and clean the office—tasks he wasn’t very good at. But he was a genius when it came to getting official papers sorted out for Hatem or dealing with the bank, reminding Hatem when payments were due or producers were dragging their feet, or letting him know there were technical problems with the lighting or the focus or the camera angles in yesterday’s program or in an old program that had been rebroadcast. It was Khodeiri who maintained absolute possession of Hatem’s telephone. It was he who answered it, berating people who called and getting rid of people who were too persistent, and it was he who arranged appointments for journalists and set up his phone calls to other programs. After a period of induction, Khodeiri started giving callers fatwas of his own on behalf of Hatem, though he did have the good grace to inform Hatem of the gist of his fatwas in order to put his mind at ease. He was the only person who could bark at guests if they were boring or took too long to leave. Hatem saw him as his black box: if his plane crashed they would know from Khodeiri what had caused it. He made sure that Khodeiri would keep his hands off the guest that was coming this time, and would keep the office clear of unwanted guests while he was visiting. He was yet more careful to stop Khodeiri asking questions about the strange visitor with a cross on his chest who came to the office of an eminent and well-known sheikh, and luckily Khodeiri couldn’t read the English words on Hassan’s shirt. Hatem thought that for Hassan to come dressed like that was childish in a way that was natural for a young man who stubbornly wanted to provoke him, so he returned the provocation by completely ignoring Hassan’s clothes. Hassan sat on a comfortable chair looking out through a large window with brown plastic blinds that broke up the sunlight coming from the street. Hatem sat next to him.
“By the way, I forgot to tell you I’m an admirer of yours,” Hatem said.
Amazingly Hassan thought Hatem was being serious. “Really?” he said.
“Very much so,” Hatem continued. “You’re brave. Leaving aside the fact that I see your conversion to Christianity as reckless and ignorant, you’re defying your father, a proud man with clout and heaps of cash, and you’re also defying, very rudely I might say, your brother-in-law, who holds the country between his digitus annularis and his minimus.”
Hatem paused a moment. “Do you know what they are?” he asked.
“No.”
“My God. You don’t know what the digitus annularis is and yet you think you know about religion and religious law and theology, and you’re acting like Saint Peter the Apostle?”
Hatem took Hassan’s hand and looked at the palm with a smile. Hassan was puzzled. “Can you see the life line?” Hatem said, and laughed. Then he grabbed the fingers roughly one after another and folded them over in turn. This is the pollex, he said with the thumb. And this is the secundus and so on down to the ring finger and the pinky, until he finally gave Hassan his hand back.
“So tell me then, why doesn’t Your Excellency like Islam?”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“God forbid! Me make fun of you! How could I?”
Hassan stood up angrily. “Listen, if you think I’m a child when I’m with you then you’re mistaken and you don’t know who you’re talking to,” he said.
Hatem, still seated, took his hand and pulled him back. “Come on, sit down,” he said. “You’ll scare me. As soon as someone makes you angry you immediately remember that you’re your father’s son and that your sister’s husband is the ruler of Egypt. Calm down and speak to me like a tolerant Christian who knows the worth of humble Jesus, not like an arrogant young man rebelling against his family to prove himself and burst the bubble they live in.”
What he said was tough, honest, and shocking and Hassan, taken aback, shut up. He didn’t walk away or sit down. He just stood there as Hatem launched the second stage of his attack.
“If you’re just a spoiled brat who thinks it’s a game converting to Christianity, then I’ll be happy to see the back of you. But if you really believe you’re right and you want to be a Christian and you’re prepared to make sacrifices for it, then sit down and talk to me.”
Hatem was applying with Hassan all the lessons at which he had failed with the Rifais—taming snakes and wrapping them around his shoulders. They might bite him at any moment but the sense that his whole future faced possible disaster made him play with the snake, so that the snake would play with him, especially as it was still a young snake, not a cobra like his father or his brother-in-law. Despite his good manners and his poise Hassan was proud of himself and his family and no one dared to shout at him or even raise their voice in his presence. He was used to people being obedient and servile toward his family, so it was important for Hatem to act tough and confident in order to change the balance of power.
Hassan was still standing there immobile. When Hatem realized that Hassan was confused, he spoke more softly. “Sit down, Hassan, or Boutros, if you like. Calm down and sit down,” he said.
Hassan sat down in resignation and Hatem called out, “Khodeiri, bring some green tea.”
“Tell me, Hassan, have you ever fallen in love?” he asked, turning to the young man.
“Why?” Hassan answered curtly.
“Why would you fall in love or
why would I ask?” Hatem asked.
“Both!” Hassan said.
“I just wanted to know what you think of women,” Hatem replied.
“Why women in particular?”
Hatem laughed. “Is that the kind of question a sensible person would ask—Muslim, Christian, or someone with no religion at all? The word ‘why’ just doesn’t arise in this context.”
“Of course. Because your religion is preoccupied with women.”
“That assumes Christianity is preoccupied with what? With wind power?”
“It’s Islam that allows a man to have four wives.”
“No, even more. It allows concubines and slave girls and ‘whatever your right hand possesses,’ as the Quran says, and your left hand too. By the way, Christianity had slave girls in large quantities as well, and a pious Christian can have a whole throng of women too, but is that what upsets you about Islam?”
“It’s not a matter of what upsets me or makes me happy. It’s what I’ve read and studied,” said Hassan.
“When?”
“I don’t understand.”
“When did you read and study? And where? Who with? Do you think that if you read a couple of books then you’ve understood and amen, or that if you sit on the Internet for six months opening Muslim and Christian websites then you’re a professor of comparative religion?”
“You’re making fun of me because you’re trying to avoid facing the facts.”
“No, not at all. Bring me the truth and I’ll face up to it. Let’s agree on one fundamental thing on this lousy day.”
Hatem stood up and called Khodeiri. “Where’s the green tea, Khodeiri Bey, Khodeiri Pasha, Dr. Khodeiri?”
Khodeiri came in with a tray. “Were you planting tea in Sri Lanka, then harvesting and grinding it? Is that why you’ve taken so long?” he said.
“No, Mawlana. I was caught up in the conversation.”
“Whose conversation would that be?”
“Your conversation. It was getting really heated and it’s the first time I’ve heard anything like it,” said Khodeiri.
“Eavesdropping, Khodeiri?” Hatem said, pushing him out again. “Okay, out you get, you and anyone else who’s sitting out there eavesdropping too, and go off home right away, or perhaps it would be better if we went out, Hassan.”
“As I was saying,” Hatem continued when they were together in the car. “The fundamental thing on this lousy day, my boy, is that I don’t want you to drop the idea of converting to Christianity because I’m worried you might go to hell. The truth is, I can’t guarantee you’ll go to heaven if you stay Muslim and I’m not certain you’ll go to hell if you become Christian, because I believe that God in His glory and His greatness has compassion for all of humanity—Muslims, Christians, Jews, atheists, Buddhists, bastards, and sons of bitches.”
“But you say that religion in the eyes of God means Islam.”
“No, it’s not us who say that. That’s in the Holy Quran. That’s God personally saying it, but what exactly does He say? ‘Where God is, religion is Islam.’ Where who is? Where God is. That’s when we go to God then, but here on earth He Himself says, You have your religion and I have mine, Whoever wants to, let him believe, and whoever wants not to, let him not believe. And God said about Christ, I am setting those who follow you above those who disbelieve until the Day of Resurrection. In the Cow chapter of the Quran, He says, There is no compulsion in religion, and He says, O children of Israel, remember the blessings I have bestowed upon you and that I have given you preference over all other creatures. And God says, There are certainly among the People of the Book some who believe in God and in what has been revealed to you and in what was revealed to them, and who bow in humility to God. They will not sell the signs of God for miserable gain! They will receive a reward with their Lord, and God is swift in account. And you’ll find in one chapter, They are not all alike: among the followers of earlier revelations there are upright people, who recite God’s messages throughout the night, and prostrate themselves. They believe in God and the Last Day, and enjoin the doing of what is right and forbid the doing of what is wrong, and vie with one another in doing good works: and these are among the righteous.”
Hassan shuddered. “Okay, so what do you say to the Muslims who offend us by saying that Christians are infidels?” he asked.
“Look, what are you interested in: Muslims or Islam?”
“So Muslims don’t know what Islam is?”
“The truth is that many of them really don’t know what Islam is. Many of them are ignorant just like you and mentally deficient. In the same way, for a considerable number of Christians, the last thing they know about is Christianity.”
“Why don’t you say this on television?”
“Did they tell you I was stupid? If I said that I’d be out of a job. I need to live and have some peace of mind. If your father wasn’t who he is, and if your sister’s husband wasn’t who he is, I would hardly give you the time of day, because I’m focused on preaching and not on scholarship, on fatwas rather than jurisprudence. I’m interested in proselytizing, not in pastoral work. Satisfied, sir, now that I’ve confessed to you?”
Hassan felt that Hatem was being evasive, so he kept pressing. “But If anyone does not seek Islam as his religion, never will it be accepted of him; and in the Hereafter he will be among those who have lost,” he said.
“Accepted where? In this world all religions are welcome,” Hatem replied. “In the Hereafter God is free to do as He wants. So He won’t accept anything but Islam, but what will He do with the other religions? We don’t know. Perhaps some religions will have privileges over other religions. In the Hereafter non-Muslims might be losers in the sense that they go to hell, or maybe losers in the sense that they don’t get the privileges given to Muslims. Besides, your criticism of Islam, that it says it’s the only way into heaven, is exactly what Christianity says about itself, and also Judaism. If any religion didn’t monopolize heaven for itself it would have lost a rationale for trying to win over followers. But the question here is, as far as Your Excellency is concerned, and listen to the question carefully because I’m saying it at 120 kilometers an hour on the ring road: Are you now angry with Islam because it says it’s the best religion? Should the Quran say Islam’s really good and nice but really, if you want to be Christian, then go ahead, be a Christian, or choose some other religion, never mind? Of course promoting a religion means saying ‘My religion is the best, better than the others.’ Anyway, Christianity says it’s the best religion, and that’s its right and quite natural. In fact it says there’s basically no such religion as Islam, and if you fault Islam for being arrogant and calling other people infidels, then a fortiori you should find fault with Christianity for being arrogant and denying the Other too.”
Hatem had confused Hassan. “Shall we go somewhere and have a coffee?” he asked.
“Well, I do have some work to do and I’ve been sitting here with you rather reluctantly, but I agree,” Hassan replied with a smile.
Hatem parked the car in a distant neighborhood on the edge of a new suburb. They went into a quiet coffee shop with furniture and a seating arrangement resembling those of Western cafes. On the walls were pictures of giant coffee cups and of coffee beans, artfully sprinkled around, that you could almost smell. Hassan was grumpy when he saw the waiters advancing toward Hatem to say hello and express their admiration. The coffee shop owner came up to greet him too and stood to have his picture taken with Hatem on his cell phone. Then everyone joined in, starting a frenzy of picture-taking. Sporadic customers hovered around Sheikh Hatem to have their pictures taken as well, with enthusiastic help from the waiters.
When he finally had his cup of tea in his hand, Hassan found a moment to spring his question. “But isn’t it a major contradiction that some verses of the Quran say that Christians are infidels and others say they’re believers?” he asked.
Hatem paused and looked around at the pictures. “My dear
brother, look. The Quran, whether you believe it came down from heaven or you think it’s the work of a genius called Muhammad ibn Abdallah, has managed to convince billions of minds across the world that it’s God’s book, and not Muhammad’s book. And whatever you believe about its origins, don’t think that either God, from somewhere higher than the seven heavens, or Muhammad, with his exceptional genius and his amazing capacity to convince people, overlooked the fact that some bright-spark genius like you would read the Quran and come across points in it and say ‘Hang on, this is contradictory.’ Of course it would be very easy for God, who is omniscient and omnipotent, to know there would be a way of thinking that challenges the Quran, so He should have made sure it was free of any ambiguities or contradictions or loopholes or weak points so that it could stand its ground against highly talented and incisive minds like yours, or against the people whose writings you’ve read in some book or on some website. Muhammad too, he must have realized that there were people who would challenge him and attack the credibility of his book, so it would be natural for him to conceal any contradictions by not dictating them or not allowing them to be written down. So we can be quite sure that what’s written doesn’t contain any contradictions, because God, as we believe, or Muhammad, as infidels or Islamophobes say, would be too thorough to overlook the possibility that there would be rivals who would cast doubt on it. It’s inconceivable that he would say in one verse that so-and-so is nice and fine, and then go back on that and say that so-and-so is ugly and horrible in another verse. Because he would know that a million goons would come out and imagine they had caught God making a mistake, or caught out a prophet who says that this is the word of God.
“So, Hassan, I suggest you go back and read the text of the Quran with respect for the divine mind, or even the human mind that received divine inspiration, and you’ll realize that He wouldn’t set traps for himself that would destroy His credibility. When God says in the Omran chapter of the Quran, And God said: O Jesus! Lo! I am gathering you and causing you to ascend unto Me, and am cleansing you of those who disbelieve and am setting those who follow you above those who disbelieve until the Day of Resurrection, it means what it says—that those who follow Jesus are above those who don’t believe, until the Day of Resurrection. The Christians aren’t infidels or polytheists. Not only that, but they’re above them, in other words they have a different status and a completely different value when it comes to their belief, until the Day of Resurrection, so don’t tell me that first He said that Christians are believers and then went back on that and said they’re infidels. No. There’s no way here he could have said they’re infidels in the sense of polytheists nor in the sense of deviation from monotheism, because the word ‘infidel’ has dozens of meanings and I’m not responsible for the way people interpret the Quran. I have the same Quran and the problem is definitely in the interpretation and not in the Quran itself. People fail to get to the heart of the matter and they just make do with the surface.