Indisputably, the most rewarding aspect of writing is the ability to connect with people at all levels of society. Prior to the inception of this column, I was for the most part oblivious to the fact that there existed a world beyond my own. Since then I have been afforded a privileged glance at the lives of others. Readers have been generous enough to share their own ideas and experiences with me and it is through this channel of interaction and exchange that on several occasions my thinking and perspectives have been completely realigned.
One day last week, when I accessed my e-mail I was surprised to have received an open invitation to call on the headquarters of the World Assembly of Muslim Youth (WAMY). To be patently honest, I acknowledged the request with a degree of trepidation and foreboding. I didn’t know quite what to expect and yet, due to the fractious relationship I have shared with the more conservative elements of this society, coupled with the negative press that such organizations have received in the recent past, I knew that my fears were not entirely unfounded.
On the day that I was due to go, I thought long and hard about how my appearance might cause a problem. Should I cover my face in order to avoid offending sensibilities? Should I abandon my abaya with diamante lest I be apprised of how this was provocative and forbidden? Should I avoid applying kohl in case of being accused of attracting attention to myself?
I pondered over these issues and ruled in favor of my everyday predicament, exposed visage, eyeliner, sparkles and all and steeled myself for the usual barrage of sermonizing. I think it is fine for people to practice religion in whatever way they deem suitable for themselves, but I certainly don’t have much patience toward being bullied into following the interpretations of those who consider themselves to be superior to the rest of us. This attitude espoused by some members of our community precludes the importance of mutual respect and acceptance that is core to the belief of all Muslims.
Having lived here for several years I was accustomed to being admonished, so I forged ahead entertaining thoughts of my imminent travesty at the hands of a group of self-righteous and sanctimonious preacher-types. What was farthest from my mind at this juncture was the eventuality that my perceptions were about to be changed forever. I don’t think that I have ever in my life been proven so wrong in my estimation or opinion as I was on the day of my visit.
When I stepped onto the premises it was like entering an entirely different world to the iniquitous vision I had pre-conceived. My expectations prepared me for encountering long hard scornful stares and derisive attitudes shared by those who espoused the “people like you are a blot on the face of Islam” mind-set. This pre-emptive strike against my hosts was artfully deflected with immense cordiality, full acceptance and tremendous respect. I was welcomed with the greeting, “You have honored our institution with your visit sister Lubna,” and led down a hallway to a series of offices. Might I add that there were plenty of men milling around the corridors and yet there was none of the usual gawping inspired by the sight of a woman.
When I entered the office of the director of international affairs, he sensed my hesitation and joked by alluding to one of my articles, “Don’t worry, sister. I was not going to ask you to cover your face!” I immediately felt a wave of relief pervading my senses. Here, at least, I was not being called upon for judgment of my practices or beliefs. I felt relaxed and totally at ease with myself in his presence, albeit a little unnerved by my own bigotry!
“I have a confession to make,” I declared sheepishly wondering whether I would scandalize him with a rendition of my earlier apprehensions. “I always advise people not to judge books by their covers, but I guess I did just that. I was in a sense terrified about coming here. I thought that I would be scrutinized and chastised for my appearance. Every time I come across someone in a ring-less headdress with a long beard I feel a sense of dread. Such encounters invariably culminate in a terrific verbal onslaught of how I am doing this wrong or that wrong. I get so disheartened. No one likes to be shouted at or derided.”
“Well, you know you’re not the only one,” he confessed. “A lot of people are put off by our appearance because of what certain people wearing this garb represent. It is a shame that we are all seen in the same way. I can’t really blame outsiders for their perceptions as most people they come across have such a narrow interpretation of Islam. It is a shame,” he said with genuine regret, “that the most moderate of religions should be turned into one that seems so rigid. Our faith is so simple and yet it is made out by these very same people to be so complicated.”
This brought about a discussion of how the spirit of Islam was so liberating and progressive and yet it had been hijacked by a minority who had subjugated and distorted it for their own personal and political gains. “Islam,” proposed the scholar, “is a universal religion. Its essence should not be diminished by matters pertaining to individual preferences or cultural considerations.”
In spite of the fact that I felt quite comfortable by now, I was once again filled with a sense of alarm when it came to the proposed meeting with WAMY Secretary-General Dr. Saleh Al-Wohaiby. Once again, I had that Pavlovian reaction of fear inspired by the religious establishment. My anxiety, however, evaporated the moment I saw him. Sporting a smile that shone with humility and ingenuousness, he was possibly one of the gentlest souls I have ever met. What followed was an education in itself. I was regaled with the scope of activities that this organization is responsible for. Contrary to my earlier impressions garnered from the media that such institutions are centers of recruitment for the dispossessed in order to train them in subversive pursuits, Muslim youth, many of whom are already enrolled in professional courses are sponsored to participate in programs that focus on their personal development.
Consistently thought to be lacking in life skills, young men and women are encouraged to develop these aspects of progress that are given little importance to in traditional institutions. Wonderful opportunities for team building and mutual cooperation are provided to participants in a friendly and creative environment. This gives them a sense of purpose and belonging that is so desperately needed in a modern world where voids can so easily be filled with counter-productive rhetoric and politically motivated affiliations.
By the end of the discussion I felt completely ashamed of my ignorance, but equally grateful for the opportunity to have had this eye-opener. We chatted a little about world politics and I was surprised by his erudition, wisdom and calls for moderation on this front.
“I lived in the States for seven and a half years. Americans are wonderful wholesome people,” he exuded. “We must not judge an entire people by their government. I lived among them and they were always so helpful and kind. I hold them in the highest regard as people because they have a true sense of humanity.”
This sentiment was echoed throughout the establishment. Everyone I met spoke so fondly of the individuals that they had encountered in the Western Hemisphere and insisted that although state policies were not in the national interest, individuals should not be shouldering the blame for the failings of the ruling elite. They worried about the nice people whom they had befriended in Oregon and Washington and Los Angeles and hoped for their sakes that the US government would redress its foreign policy toward being more even-handed in the Middle East.
Such concern was a far cry from the venomous portrayal of our leaders by the popular media. I left this establishment a changed person with a redefined vision. I have always been a practicing Muslim. As a Muslim woman I enjoy a well-defined and dignified status as prescribed by the tenets of my faith. Although I am frequently turned off by the blinkered vision of many followers I come across, my visit to a place where religious scholarly men looked upon me as an equal member of this society rejuvenated my sense of hope.
The greatness of Islam, I learned that day, lies within its flexibility and adaptability. Being the code for an entire way of life, it maintains an inherent pragmatism within its practices. Islam is easy. Muslims make it difficult. The Holy Prophet, peace be upon him, beseeched his followers not to make religion a burden upon themselves. As believers, when we are faced with choices in matters of faith, we are counseled to take the easiest of alternatives.
I had known very little of WAMY prior to my arrival that day. It’s strange how in spite of all my efforts to advise people to maintain an open mind, I am often culpable of imbibing and nurturing certain stereotypes myself. We are all victims of the media, the only difference being the degree to which we are afflicted. Quite unexpectedly, there are God-given opportunities that present themselves in order for us to correct our spurious vision. The onus is on us to seize the moment and try to look at things from a different perspective and with a more sympathetic gaze.
We should not so easily succumb to the propaganda machine that has so successfully infiltrated our social conscience. We should instead endeavor to see the underlying truth beyond the lies we are told for in the words of Lenin, “A lie told often enough becomes the truth.”
(Lubna Hussain is a Saudi writer. She is based in Riyadh.)
