The Light of Our Yesterdays

by Ken Hansen

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Did he touch you?” Tomadus asked.

  “He came over to me, and when he touched my shoulder, the light exploded in my mind. Ever since, I have been utterly confused and fearing these many visions.”

  “You and I should fear no longer, my friend. We are not alone. I will get you released to my custody, and we can visit Isa. As I have long suspected, he must be at the center of this. Together, perhaps we shall even discover the truth.”

  Chapter 66

  “I seek a better understanding, Imam. I have studied these passages from the Qur’an that call for Qital. I have listened to many, including my mentor, who says they tell us to attack the Americans in any way we can. Yet I struggle to reconcile them with the feelings in my heart.” Anwari was sitting in Imam Rahini’s sparse quarters near his mosque in Kabul. This imam had argued for peace and tried to calm the incessant calls of a few other imams in remote parts of Afghanistan and Pakistan to attack the Americans everywhere. I need to hear the other side.

  The imam stared back at him for a few moments and then smiled. “Abdul, you are not alone. These passages confuse so many, but why? If you read all of their words in their proper context, then their intent is clear. Yet those who wish to hate, those who wish to kill, those who wish to destroy, they convert a few of the words into their battle cry. However, do not be misled. These interpretations of our faith are not shared by most Muslims around the world.”

  Anwari nodded slowly.

  Imam Rahini went on. “You must ask yourself, why? Why do they do this? I will tell you what I think. Not for the glory of Allah but their own. They use His words as weapons to move the disenchanted among us to undertake horrible deeds that no just man could ever fathom on his own, let alone consider righteous. You say your mentor has taught you these meanings, and I do not doubt it. But you must ask yourself, what does he truly seek—the will of Allah, or his own power or need for revenge?”

  Anwari winced. “I do not know, for I do not truly know him. He says he serves Allah, but I have begun to wonder.”

  “It is good that you question his motives, for many who have gone before you have not. When you truly understand this mentor’s real purposes, then you will know what course to take. You obviously have a goodly conscience, or you would not be asking me these questions, so let your conscience and Allah be your guide.”

  Anwari bowed slightly to the Imam. “Thank you, but can you tell me where my mentor is wrong? Take the passage from Ayah 2-191: ‘Kill them wherever you encounter them, and drive them out from where they drove you out, for persecution is more serious than killing.’ Does this not mean we should fight non-Muslims everywhere and kill them when we can?”

  “Abdul, who in this passage is ‘them?’”

  “Some say it is all non-Muslims, but I do not believe it.”

  The imam nodded slowly. “Precisely. The terrorists love to pull this out and act as if ‘them’ refers to anyone who is not a Muslim, because they must therefore oppose Islam. But this passage comes immediately after the Qur’an says, ‘Fight in Allah’s cause against those who fight you…’ Abdul, this passage contains nothing more than an appeal to Muslims for their own self-defense! How can you take this then to mean we should bomb innocents? Are those people fighting us?”

  “Maybe not directly, but through their government. The American government fights us, and by their own principles, they are a government of their people, so the people are just as responsible.”

  “Do you really believe the Americans are fighting Muslims? Why would they do this when millions of Muslims live peacefully in the United States? Do you really believe they have a holy war against Muslims here in Afghanistan? You fought beside them, did you not? Were they trying to kill as many Muslims as they could?”

  “No, of course not,” said Anwari, “though many innocent Muslims have died.”

  “Yes, many have, for war kills many never intended as its targets. But answer this: how many innocent Muslims have been targeted at the hands of other Muslims, at the hands of the Taliban? Should there be a Jihad against the Taliban? And how about the civil wars that preceded the Taliban rule? Do you forget the horrors of those days as well?”

  “No,” said Anwari. But at least my brother and family were still alive then.

  “Moreover, where does the Qur’an say we should target innocents because of their governments? That is quite a leap, don’t you think? No, Abdul, this passage merely tells us it is not unholy to defend ourselves. But it is not an exhortation to murder. How can you read the entire Qur’an and believe such evil could be intended? And in the very provision you cite, what does it say so boldly, just to make it perfectly clear that we must always proceed cautiously when it comes to war? You know this. It says that even when we defend ourselves, we must not overstep the limits, because Allah does not love those who overstep the limits.”

  Anwari spread his hands wide, a look of bewilderment on his face. “But what are the limits?”

  “The Qur’an itself says, ‘If they cease hostilities, there can be no further hostility, except towards aggressors. A sacred month for a sacred month: violation of sanctity calls for fair retribution. So if anyone commits aggression against you, attack him as he attacked you, but be mindful of Allah, and know that He is with those who are mindful of Him.’ Abdul, we must be mindful of Allah, and we attack only as we were attacked. So how can they really say this sanctions terrorism?”

  “I see. What of Ayah 9:5, which tells us to kill the idolaters and seize them and wait for them at every lookout post?”

  “Ah yes.” The imam sat back, smiling. “This is a favorite among the extremists. But again, they take out of context that which is limited to a particular situation. They teach that the “idolaters” are anyone who is not a Muslim, and so it is fine to kill anyone who is not a Muslim. Do you think this could possibly be the intent of Allah? No, my friend, when the passage refers to idolaters, it specifically refers to the critical context that comes before it. We know this is true because it uses the article ahdiya in the sentence to refer to what has already been stated. What comes before it? Ayah 9:1 announces that Allah and Muhammad are annulling a specific treaty with the Pagans in Arabia. Ayah 9:2 and 9:3 give the Pagans a period of 4 months to travel to Mecca and repent. Ayah 9:4 further explains that this applies only to those Pagans who broke the treaty with Allah and Muhammad in the first place. As for the other Pagans who kept the treaty, “fulfill your agreement with them to the end of their term. Allah loves those who are mindful of Him.”

  Anwari nodded.

  The imam continued, “So, Ayah 9:5 is merely telling Muslims that those who broke a specific treaty at that specific time should suffer the consequences. It is a call to war against a specific enemy at a specific time. Some Christians and Jews quote this as evidence that our religion seeks to destroy them, whether through terrorism or otherwise, but it is no more a sanction of terrorism against non-believers than the Hebrew bible’s exhortation to Joshua to tear down the walls of Jericho is a sanction of war against all those who are not Jews.”

  Anwari asked, “If this is so clear, then why do the terrorists rely on it, and how do they get away with it?”

  “Why, indeed, my friend? And now we have returned to my first question to you. Let me answer this question with another question: Do you believe that all who claim to act in Allah’s name always do so?”

  “Of course not. Many have their own interests in mind.”

  “Then why should it surprise you that these same people might abuse the words of the Qur’an to further their own interests? I am not saying they all disbelieve their distorted constructions. For many reasons, people of all ethnicities and creeds hold hate deep within their hearts for ‘others’ who they believe have wronged them, whether individually, a member of their families, or their ethnic groups or nations. As their hate grows like an insidious sickness, it devours the truth of their souls and the clarity of their minds. T
hey convince themselves that others must die or be persecuted and, feeling the natural conflict within their hearts, they reach out to their moral creeds for justification and find that which they wish to discover and believe that which they wish to understand. We Muslims are not alone in this, for history and the world today is replete with examples from many religions and peoples.”

  “Yes, I agree.” Anwari said.

  “But history has rowed its heavy oars toward us now, Abdul, as so many Muslims feel mistreated by those who rule this world and try to dominate us. This domination breeds hatred, and unspeakable acts follow. Now all the world begins to judge us not on the basis of our true faith, but on the evil works of those who distort our faith. Do not succumb to this path, Abdul, for you are too good a man. If your mentor believes in this distortion, leave him at once. And if you do not yet believe me, discover for yourself his true motives and act accordingly.”

  Anwari graciously thanked the imam for his insights and walked outside. This imam had confirmed his own feelings, but other militant imams had argued the opposite, had argued as Pardus had taught him. Whom should he believe? What was Allah’s true will for him? “Allah, I beg of you, guide me on the straight path. Show me the way.”

  Anwari’s cell phone rang—not the phone he used with Pardus but his everyday phone. He looked at the caller ID. Perhaps his short prayer had been answered.

  “Abdul, it’s Chris, Chris Huxley. It has been awhile.”

  “Yes it has. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Hey, I was thinking about you this morning.”

  Anwari tensed up. “You were?” he said slowly.

  “Yes, I was showing a few visiting friends some sites here in Washington, and I thought it would be fun to give my new friend Abdul a guided tour. How about it? Are you still travelling around the world? Maybe you could come here?”

  Anwari stiffened. A trap? No, they could arrest me here and then I would have no rights, but in America… “Perhaps. I would have to see if it would work for me.”

  “Great, why don’t you check on it?” Huxley replied. “Sorry, but I cannot comp your travel here to the States. You’ll have to get your sponsors to do that. I’m particularly looking forward to showing you the Jefferson Memorial. You haven’t been there before, have you?”

  Anwari nearly gasped, but held it in. The Jefferson Memorial was the last of Pardus’s clues, but he had heard nothing concrete about it. Had Huxley now associated him more closely with the breadcrumbs? Anwari would need to speak with Pardus. Pardus. Was Anwari just falling in line with him again? Maybe this was the perfect time to make a break. Is that Allah’s will?

  “Anwari, are you there?” Huxley was sounding impatient.

  “Yes, sorry. No, I have not been to that site. It sounds like a great idea.”

  “When can you get here?”

  “Soon. I will let you know. Soon.”

  Anwari hung up the phone and then stared at it for over a minute, frozen with indecision. Either way, he had to call Pardus. He pulled out his secure phone and called.

  “Yes?” said the deep voice on the other end.

  “He just invited me for a little tour of his sites. He mentioned our friend, Tom, in particular.”

  “I see. He remains on track, but I wonder if he will ever understand. We might need to nudge him.”

  Anwari smiled. “Yes. I will go.”

  “No. Let me think about it. Timing will be critical.”

  “Yes, Imam.” Anwari fingered his thumb and pinched his lips together. Should he tell him or would that condemn him to death? Pardus was probably having him followed anyway. It would be better for Anwari to confess himself. Maybe he could sort things out. “Imam?”

  “Yes, Abdul.”

  “I met with Imam Rahini today.”

  “That filthy collaborator? What did he say?”

  Anwari breathed deeply. “I just asked him about the provisions in the Qur’an we have been discussing, just to understand his perspective. As you might imagine, it differs from yours.”

  “Of course, since he has long been in the pay of the Americans.”

  “He claims his views are shared by most of the world’s Muslims. He said Qital is essentially a doctrine of self-defense for Muslims, not a justification for terrorism. He argues that those who use the words of the Qur’an as such are fooling themselves to justify their evil actions.”

  “And what do you believe, Abdul?”

  Anwari remained silent for longer than he wished. He would be writing his own death sentence, yet in many ways he was already dead. “I am sorry, Imam, but I find myself conflicted. I wish to serve Allah and satisfy my brother’s call for revenge, but I do not wish to harm innocents. I cannot bring myself to believe that Allah would want it so.”

  “You speak of innocents. Who is innocent here, Abdul?”

  “Most of the people in America and Italy who are at risk. If this goes badly, their blood will be on our hands.”

  “You call the Americans innocent, even when they elect the leaders who bomb our cities and bring armies to enforce their will upon us? Are they innocent when they watch on television and cheer their bombs lighting up our cities? Are they innocent when their taxes pay for weapons that destroy our villages, maim our children and murder our brothers? No, Abdul, they are no less guilty than their soldiers. These so-called innocents might as well have come here to kill us themselves.”

  Abdul looked down and closed his eyes.

  Pardus went on, “And what of the Italians? In their midst, they preserve the relic of a misguided and blasphemous faith. What are the popes but guardians of a great myth of the divinity of a mere prophet? This ancient fairytale allowed a false apostle to expand a tiny Jewish sect by appealing to Pagan gentiles who were already accustomed to worshiping human gods. And this blasphemy survived these past two millennia in large part because of a long line of popes and their Vatican intelligentsia, who smothered dissent and declared themselves the sole oracle of their faith. I can think of nobody who more deserves to learn the hard lesson of Allah’s true will. If the Italian people suffer as a side effect, so be it, for it is they who have chosen to sustain this bastion of sacrilege in their city.”

  “I understand, Imam,” said Anwari slowly. I’ve crossed the line. Just shut up, Abdul, and you might live.

  “Do you? Perhaps you do not appreciate the situation, my friend. Your useless desert imams can scream all they want, but they will not matter for long. I already have what I need to change the world. Change it will, and for the better.”

  Anwari bit his lip, but to his dismay it worked itself free. “How do you know it will be better?”

  “Because I will reshape it in my own image.”

  Anwari’s jaw dropped. Holy hell, who does he think he is?

  Pardus continued, “Get on board, Abdul, or you risk being swept away by the next flood—though this one will flow with blood.”

  “Yes, of course, Imam,” Anwari replied. Was his tone supportive enough? Did Pardus believe him? How could he when Anwari could not believe the man himself? Imam Rahini had proven prescient: when Anwari had tested his mentor’s motives, the truth had quickly revealed itself. He had received his answer from Allah. “How about Washington? Shall I go?”

  “No, stay there for now. I’ll let you know when I decide.”

  “Thank you, Imam.” Anwari hung up the cell phone and this time did not pause when he switched to his other cell to make a call. A few moments later he said, “I’d like a flight from Kabul to Washington, D.C., please—as soon as possible.”

  Chapter 67

  Pre-occupied with thoughts of the next puzzle awaiting him, Christian Huxley left his car on Ohio Drive in East Potomac Park and walked along the Potomac toward the Jefferson Memorial without noticing his little tail. He had no reason to believe anyone would be following him in DC anyway, so he left caution aside and let his mind wander. He had hoped to view the Memorial with Anwari and see if the Afghan’s eyes might lea
d him to his next step, but the man had never returned his follow-up calls. Huxley could wait no longer.

  He had spent his waiting time studying the Jeff Thomas, III, entry. The clues, if any, were altogether too sparse. The entry read:

  Jeff Thomas, III

  home

  202-693-4721

  mobile

  202-579-7979

  work

  202-987-1295

  home address

  Apartment three

  1252 Maryland Avenue, S.W.

  Washington, DC 20024

  Notes

  If I could play The Apostle, would I know the truth?

  Are the telephone numbers a deciphering key like the numbers in the Christian Huxley entry? At least that entry had specified the pattern when it referenced “Mobile-Other: Main.” Here, the “Notes” section again held the only unusual clue: “If I could play the Apostle, would I know the truth?” If he was supposed to play Thomas Jefferson, the Apostle of Democracy, the Jefferson Memorial seemed to be as good a stage as any.

  As he approached the memorial, he saw that its domed roof was supported by a large number of Doric columns. Could their number represent a clue? He counted them, counted the number holding up the front portico to the structure, and played a few mathematical games with the combinations and phone numbers in the telephone entry. No clarity emerged.

  He approached the center of the structure and its giant statue of the Apostle of Democracy. If he assumed the statue’s viewpoint, in a sense he would be “playing the Apostle.” He stood at the base of the statue and followed Jefferson’s eyes beyond the columns supporting the portico and beyond even the huge tidal pool that lay before it. His eyes finally focused on the historic building lying plainly visible just over a mile away: the White House. He could see no “truth” in merely pointing to the White House, unless that was the alleged target of the attack. He looked around some more and decided to take pictures of every viewpoint available to Jefferson’s statue. The interior walls of the memorial were covered with four inscriptions containing excerpts from various Jeffersonian writings. The first was just behind the statue on his left and was pulled from the famous document Jefferson first drafted, the Declaration of Independence: