Adventures
in Islam
WORDS mean different things to different people.
In my mind, "Islam" is always associated with adventure, possibly because
I first encountered it (I think) in stories about Robin Hood. Anyone who
reads these romantic tales from the Middle Ages becomes familiar with "bad" Prince
John, "good" King Richard, and those inscrutable enemies of the crusaders
-- the "Saracens". (The word "Saracen", by the way, comes
from the Greek "Sarakenos", perhaps from the Arabic "sharq",
meaning sunrise.)
But by the time I entered my teens, I knew that these people were, in reality,
called Muslims, and that they followed a religion called Islam. I did not learn,
until much later, that Islam is NOT a religion, in the Western
sense, but a complete way of life that suffuses all human activities.
These romantic ideas about Islam acquired an aesthetic dimension when, at the
age of 19, I travelled through Turkey and Iran while en route to India, and marvelled
at the mosques I saw. Islamic architecture, in my opinion, is unsurpassed. I
also see it as powerful testimony to the refinement of Islam,
to its unique sensibility.
Look up into the dome of an Istanbul mosque, and you will see a microcosm
of the universe -- a sort of organised chaos in which every tiny, vital component
is held delicately in place. Here, in intricate art, is the grand "theory of
everything" that scientists are so assiduously seeking. In a sense, Islam
is life itself, lived in accordance with the ineffable order of the
cosmos -- insofar as this can be discerned, with the help of the Qur'an and the sunnah
of the Prophet (peace be upon him).
Of course, none of this will convince those who see only the travesty of Islam
presented by its detractors. The cogency of the "case for Islam" is compelling,
but ultimately a person cannot be compelled to accept it. Islam is
not being magnanimous when it says "there is no compulsion in religion";
it is simply making a statement of fact.
Philosophies cannot be spread by the sword. Coercion can secure outward
compliance with a set of rules, but cannot secure inner conviction.
And without inner conviction, there can only be an empty shell -- not
enough to withstand the stresses and strains of centuries, let alone to
produce superlative art and architecture.
Actually, if you look at what might be described as the methodology of Islam,
you find that it tends to be spread discreetly on a one-to-one
basis, through personal advice or example. In Islam, there
are no Billy Graham crusades, with all their attendant hype and hoopla,
and hysterical, orchestrated "decisions for Christ". Indeed, that kind
of excessive emotionalism is counter to the spirit of Islam, which demands
moderation and sober judgment in all matters.
Muslim associations, and especially those for "new Muslims", are always keen
to have one's "conversion story" -- or "reversion story", to use the more
fashionable term. The assumption, I think, is that something pretty dramatic
must have happened to make someone turn from one faith to another. One
imagines dark days in which the individual wrestles with doubt, before succumbing
to despair as the doubts refuse to be dispelled.
Then, when life seems utterly meaningless, there is a flash of light...and
the miserable wretch is miraculously transformed, becoming in an instant the
irrepressible apostle of the new creed. Is that what a conversion is, or should
be like? I don't think so. In fact, I would doubt the psychological stability
of anyone who reported such an abrupt about face.
