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There has been some back and forth debate among policy makers the past few years about whether or not to categorize waterboarding as torture, as it is one of the interrogation techniques that have been used against our brothers in Guantanomo Bay.

Hitchens writes in his VF article that waterboarding was originally a method of torture Special Forces underwent as part of their SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape) Training component in the event they were captured by an enemy who ignored the Geneva Conventions.

Perhaps even more telling was the waiver he was required to sign, which stated the following:

“Water boarding” is a potentially dangerous activity in which the participant can receive serious and permanent (physical, emotional and psychological) injuries and even death, including injuries and death due to the respiratory and neurological systems of the body.

The agreement went on to state that even with the safeguards provided:

…during the ‘water boarding’ process, however, these measures may fail and even if they work properly they may not prevent Hitchens from experiencing serious injury or death.

Hitchens goes on to quote Malcolm Nance, a man who has been involved in the SERE training program for some time, who states:

“Torture advocates hide behind the argument that an open discussion about specific American interrogation techniques will aid the enemy. Yet, convicted Al Qaeda members and innocent captives who were released to their host nations have already debriefed the world through hundreds of interviews, movies and documentaries on exactly what methods they were subjected to and how they endured. Our own missteps have created a cadre of highly experienced lecturers for Al Qaeda’s own virtual SERE school for terrorists.”

I’ve underlined a serious moral dilemna which the US government and their dogmatic followers have ignored, and that is that Guantanomo prisoners who are innocent by even their own definition of innocent have been tortured using this technique (and others). No surprise here, just a reminder of what we’ve all known now for some time.

Interesting as this story is, Hitchens does not break new ground per se, as he is re-iterating much of what was stated in this Washington Post article which additionally goes on to state that during WWII, Japanese soldiers were convicted for torturing American POWs due to their use of waterboarding techniques against them (Frustrating, I know). What separates Hitchens’ article is his reversal of position on waterboarding due to his firsthand experience.

May Allah subhaana wa ta’aala reward and bless greatly those of our brothers and sisters who have been subjected to such harsh treatment, and give them patience and strength to endure the after effects of such techniques.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Why don’t you come to the masjid with me, we’ll pray with everyone there and come back,” said brother Waseem.

“Er, but I don’t know how to pray,” I said.

“That’s ok, just follow along with everyone else.”

I was 15 at that time, and prayer was not something I had done regularly to the point that I had it down pat. Here and there, I did it because my understanding was prayer was just an optional thing Muslims could do if they wanted to.

Salaah? Optional Thing?!

Yeah, optional.

So anyway, we arrived at the masjid, prayed (I didn’t really recite anything, just followed everyone else’s motions), and soon after, we started filing out of the masjid to the shoe area. As we were in the process of walking out, it happened.

My life changed forever.

There it was - a generic one-page double-sided masjid newsletter, printed in some generic green ink, as ghetto a publication as you can imagine.

I picked up it up and read it on the way home. Then I read it again. And again. And again. By the end of it, I was like, “Maaawwwwwmm! You have to teach me how to praaaay! And faast!”

The Super Secret Daw’ah Technique

For all of us I believe, there are critical junctures we can point to and say, yeah, that was a moment or period of time where I was pushed to the next level and there was no turning back. Converts / Reverts / Inverts (my new variation, bringing the fitrah out ) are perhaps better known for this because a spotlight is shone on them by the community due to the change being so obvious (goodbye jaahil ideology x, hello Islam!).

In my own life, one particular turning point, an immediate system overload, braincrashing, I-need-to-change-now moment, came because of that newsletter.

So what was in it?

You could say it was kinda like MTV Cribs, but for people living in Casa de Jahannum. It was very descriptive, speaking about the explosively high temperatures, the throat and gut-ripping foods available, the corroded and corrupted drinks of pus and sweat to sate one’s thirst, and the various forms of torture awaiting Hell’s residents. To say it was an eye-opener would be an understatement.

My immediate reaction upon reading the first page was, “Good thing I’m not doing anything that’ll land me in Hell, I’m one of the good guys “

Then I turned to the back page, and that’s when I freaked.

The article concluded by stating that if you don’t affirm the shahadah, and if you don’t pray five times daily, and if you don’t fast during Ramadan, and if you don’t pay zakaah, and if you don’t go on Hajj, you could expect to reside in Hell. Forever. Drinking pus and sweat. And burning. Did I mention forever?

My first thought? Take the shahadah now! The author was kind enough to transliterate it (I couldn’t read the Arabic), and so just to be safe, I took my shahadah a multiple times to make sure I had done it right. Then I asked my mother to teach me how to pray (I only wish the author would have added “on time” in the article, it was a few years before anyone told me about that), and for the first year ever, I fasted all 30 days of Ramadan (known to me then as Ramzan, and I knew nothing of moonfighting smackdowns, alhamdulillaah).

So the Super Secret Daw’ah Technique must be fear, right? Don’t scare the hell outta them - scare the hell into them!

Well, kinda, but not quite - the first person to use the Super Secret Daw’ah technique on me was good old Mom.

Makkah to Madinah

There were a lot of things Mom didn’t know and simply could not teach me about Islam. As I mentioned in the last article, my father was and is Christian, and I was prevented from attending Islamic Sunday school, so I missed out on amazing classes like “Aqeedah 101: Avoiding Non-Zabiha Meat”, “Urdabic 201: Shamelessly Mangle Urdu and Arabic Even When You Know Better”, and “Fiqh 401: The Importance of the Turbans, Topi’s, and Leather Socks.”

Important as those topics were (and seem to be even today), Mom taught me something even more important which I believe separated me from the rest of my peers.

What was that?

She taught me to have taqwa (God-consciousness) of Allah subhaana wa ta’aala by the age of five and she would read me the stories of the Prophets, their mission, and explain why so many people were destroyed (disbelief).

With these two together, she taught me to have Emaan in Allah subhaana wa ta’aala, to be aware of Him, to know that if I did good, He knew it and would reward and take care of me, and love me, and that if I did wrong, he would know that as well, and that I would be punished for it.

My understanding of halaal and haraam may have been off the mark for much of my childhood due to ignorance, but with what little I had, I believe I had what was most important of all - a positive relationship with my Creator.

If I ever wanted the latest Transformer toy (we’re talking Generation 1 here people, 1980s), despite my family’s financial status at the time (poor and broke), I’d pray for it, and I’d get it. If I was in trouble at school, I’d ask Allah subhaana wa ta’aala for help. My relationship with Allah subhaana wa ta’aala was based on a firm belief that if I asked, He would be there for me. I didn’t always get what I wanted, of course, but that didn’t change my belief in Him. Sometimes my parents didn’t give me what I wanted either - kids can’t always have what they want

It was because of this relationship with Allah subhaana wa ta’aala, because I wanted to please Him and make Him happy, that when I was presented for the first time in my life with this new idea that I wasn’t doing enough, I changed my practices to realign with my new understanding. I was ready for it, and no one had to force me into it. Over time, I learned more, and while the changes were not as instantaneous each time (eg dropping music and movies), I was able to overcome those and other challenges because of that closeness and relationship my mother had taught me to have with my Creator, alhamdulillaah.

Aisha (ra) was the one who basically said that if what the Muslims were first called to was leaving zina and alcohol, then the people would have basically said (in layman’s terms), forget you, are you crazy? But the daw’ah didn’t start that way - it started with issues of Eman, establishing belief in Allah subhaana wa ta’aala, and then, once people’s hearts were tied to the love, the fear, the hope, and the obedience to Allah subhaana wa ta’aala, then the verses forbidding or commanding this, that, and the other thing, the fiqh details, came about.

You ever get the feeling we sometimes put the cart before the horse these days?

From the Root to the Fruit

My mother had made it clear to me that she didn’t have detailed knowledge of what I would later come to know as the nuances of fiqh. She did, however, tell me that I should go out and learn more on my own. So knowing that I didn’t know anything, I took the practice of other Muslims throughout high school for granted - I was ignorant, and they went to Sunday School, so they probably knew better.

Then college happened, and the brothers there, may Allah subhaana wa ta’aala reward them, took an interest in me and spent time giving me books and teaching me various aspects of Islam that I had been unaware of (Hadeeth? What are hadeeth?).

Years later with a fresh perspective, I took a look at the Muslims around me and realized, y’know what, people didn’t really know or practice Islam as much as I thought they did. Sure, they knew some aspects of Islam like taking a siesta nap during the Friday prayer khutbah, getting decked out for Eid in the gaudiest of clothes, and debating the moonfighting issues tri-annually, yet something was definitely wrong.

People were not practicing Islam. Brothers were clean-shaven like girls, girls couldn’t meet the modesty standards set for men let alone themselves, pants were dragging below the ankles, everyone was flirting (at ISNA and MSA events), and I couldn’t tell if the people praying next to me at times were performing aerobics or just trying to start a new dance trend. And many Muslims from overseas were taking their newfound freedom from mom and dad as an opportunity to party, drink, and chase the opposite sex into the bedroom. And, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention all the student loans and mortgages Muslim students and families alike got themselves into.

Why couldn’t people just fear Allah subhaana wa ta’aala and not do these things? In many cases, it was ignorance, but in others, that was not the case, so what was going on?

As you may have noticed, for many “born” Muslims, Islam is not a belief in Allah subhaana wa ta’aala so much as it is a cultural thing with a set of optional dos and don’ts, and in many ways just more restrictive than other religions. The people probably the most baffled by this the most initially are converts / reverts.

Is it any wonder, when you consider what many of us are first taught about Islam? Islam is reading the Qur’aan all the way through once in Arabic and having a party (and never looking at it after that), or its a Friday sermon which we don’t understand the purpose of so we just go and space out, or its “Islam means peace” like the stuff we do is our form of yoga.

For many Muslims, it’s all very ritualistic and mechanical. In the last article, we mentioned trying to figure out where others are in knowledge and understanding before going forward and helping them - the mind. In this article, I’d like to offer one particular place to start diagnosing the problem - start with the person’s heart, with their eman, with their attachment to Allah subhaana wa ta’aala, and not with their external behaviors and mistakes which we can all see.

I’ve known of brothers who try coming to the masjid, and they don’t look like great representatives of Islam, but they’re taking their first step forward, and someone comes to them and says, “Don’t you know that silver necklaces for men is haraam! Astagfirillaah!” and then because of that bad experience, they don’t return.

Or a sister walks into the masjid, again, not representing Islam at all in her dress, and the establishment hijaabis go on an all-out red-alert shock-and-awe ballistic attack about not wearing a hijaab in the masjid, and she leaves with the impression that those sisters all look down their noses at her like she’s inferior.

I know of people who will spend hours debating and discussing fiqh issues. I know of uncles who practice just a bit who will go on and on during Ramadan and Dhul Hijjah about the Moonfighting issue, and I know of people whose first concern before all else is whether or not you eat zabiha meat before whether you pray five times daily. In some particularly disturbing cases, I’ve known of people to go clubbing, dating, drinking, and the whole nine yards, but God help you if those people found out you ate non-zabiha!

And this also extends to our daw’ah towards nonMuslims - go online and check out the debates between Muslims and nonMuslims - what’s discussed? Your religion oppresses women, your religion is fascism, your people are terrorists, and on and on. And us? We fall for it and spend a lot of time trying to convince people of the justice of Islamic Law in terms the West can understand.

I recall Shaykh Yasir Qadhi stating in one lecture that when he was in college, he had convinced one of his nonMuslim friends about the justice in the way women are treated in Islam, and this person acknowledged Shaykh Yasir was correct, but accepting this point did not change his belief to Islam.

I believe that once we collectively focus on our attention on first establishing a strong foundation and bond of Eman, of taqwa, of loyalty, of love and respect of Allah subhaana wa ta’aala in the hearts and minds of the Muslims, and likewise if we refocus our daw’ah efforts to nonMuslims on placing Eman and belief in Allah subhaana wa ta’aala, and give lower priority initially (but not forever) to fiqh, that’s when I believe we’ll start to see exponential rather than incremental change in all the external problems we see among ourselves. I believe that focusing on building strong Eman in the heart is the 80/20 rule of daw’ah - it’s the 20% of work you do that will drive 80% of your results (Pareto Rule).

Imam Anwar Al-Awlaki did a great job illustrating this point in his Hereafter series by contrasting the prohibition of alcohol during the time of the Prophet sallallaahu alayhi wa sallim vs the Prohibition of alcohol in America a little less than 100 years ago. When the ayaat were revealed forbidding alcohol in Madinah, the people immediately stopped, spit out, vomited, and cast out all the alcohol due to their Eman in Allah subhaana wa ta’aala. They were ready for anything. America, on the other hand, increased its consumption during the Prohibition Era. The law of the land and the penalties for violating the law were not enough of a deterrent to prevent bootlegging. In the end, America repealed Prohibition, the Muslims of that era did not.

What Can I Do?

We like to talk about what we know the most, and often, because fiqh issues are the hot button issues, we spend a lot of time reading up on some aspects of them and then discussing and debating it back and forth with people who are likely as ignorant or perhaps a bit more so as we are on the totality of the matter.

How about taking the time not just to study Aqeedah, but committing to mastering it and then spending your time talking about that with others instead. True, there’s plenty of room to debate there as well, but how often does that debate spill out to the general masses? Fiqh issues tend to go to everyone (think moonfighting) vs does yad mean hand or power (huh?).

If you run an MSA, how about committing to programs that focus on relationship-building with Allah subhaana wa ta’aala?

Got kids? While teaching them about how to pray and memorize Qur’aan, how about taking the time to talk to them about Allah subhaana wa ta’aala not just with the stick, but emphasizing a positive relationship in terms of the carrot, if you get my meaning? Or teaching them what they’re saying during salaah, and to really feel the conversation they are having with their Creator?

These are a few suggestions that came to my mind, but I’d really like to know from a lot of you, what have your experiences been in this, and what are different ways or contexts we can realign that focus back on Allah subhaana wa ta’aala?

“So, what religion are you?”

“Ummm, I think I’m half-Muslim, half-Christian because my mom is Muslim, but my dad is Christian.”

This is just a guess on my part, but after reading that, I bet your thoughts may have looked something like the following:

“Subhaan’Allah, this guy’s a moron.”

“Great, another ABCD – American Born Confused Dummy.”

::smack!:: (the sound of your palm smacking your forehead)

“Look at the state of our Ummah – this misguided person doesn’t know the difference between ethnicity and religion!”

For other interesting reactions, check out the post on the AlMaghrib forums:

Had I encountered someone who said something like that a few years ago, I’d probably have reacted the same way myself, except that the person who made those comments was none other than the author of this post at the age of 14.

That’s right – I was the one who, while 100% a believing Muslim, called himself half-Muslim, half-Christian. I remember the desi kids who asked me that were like, “How does that work? Do you believe Jesus is the Son, but then you don’t?”

As I think back on it even now, I can’t help but find it funny. How could I have been so dumb? But there it was – I was practicing Islam to the best of the little-to-no-knowledge that I had (and I certainly had not an iota of Christian belief or practice that I followed), but somehow I had mixed up my concepts of race and ethnicity.

I’ll bet if many of us were to take a moment now and reflect on some ideas or beliefs we held years ago, or some dumb statements that we made in the past, we’d find them pretty funny in retrospect.

There’s an interesting story about ‘Umar ibn al-Khattaab (ra) in which he was seen first laughing and then crying. When questioned about it, he said that he was remembering his life before Islam.

He recalled that at one time, he was in need a god to worship, but there were none available for him at that moment. So what did he do? He pulled out some dates from his pocket, formed them into a god, and then worshipped it.

So what’s so funny about that? Was he laughing about committing shirk? Actually, he was laughing because after he was done with his worship, he became hungry and proceeded to EAT the god made of dates. Can you imagine how funny that must have seemed post-shahadah?

Of course, it’s not always that we have happy memories of past mistakes – many times, there are moments of regret, of shame, of pain, of wanting to go back and undo mistakes that we had made. The same was true of ‘Umar in this story.

He continued, explaining that he was crying because his wife at that time had delivered a baby girl, and as was the practice before Islam, he buried his daughter alive. He remembered being able to hear her coughing as the sand was covering her face, and this was what brought him to tears.

Another version of the story mentions she was a bit older, and while ‘Umar was digging the hole to bury her, she would wipe the sand that would get in his beard, and this memory was what caused him to cry, wallaahu a’lam.

I have a few regrets myself from back in those high school years. During my junior year, I remember there were two Muslim sisters (both in Islam and family members) that stood out more so than all the other Muslim girls in our school because they did something unusual – they wore hijaab. By my senior year, another of their sisters had joined the school, and we had three sisters in our school, all hijaabis.

Can you imagine that? Three Muslim girls wearing hijaab in high school of all places? High school was the absolute worst place to look or dress differently than anyone else because of the social backlash that came with it, and come it did. I remember students would sometimes comment on them, wondering sarcastically if they were bald, or had bugs in their hair, or something else.

That wasn’t the worst part. The worst was what I thought about them. Here I was, their Muslim brother, so ignorant of Islam that I myself never stood up for them, and even looked down on them. I remember one time thinking, don’t you guys realize this isn’t medieval times? We’re in the 20^th century now! May Allah subhaana wa ta’aala reward them for their strength and resolve in the face of so much criticism.

It’d be great to ride a DeLorean Marty McFly style and change the past for the better, but what’s happened has happened and what we can do is look back a bit and search for lessons to benefit ourselves for future use, insha’Allah.

One lesson I realized much later was that when I see people who are not practicing Islam properly (meaning, they have ideas about Islam that no scholar holds, or they are what we would call “nonpracticing”), it’s not correct to automatically assume that everyone is at the same level of knowledge and understanding, and therefore condemn them if they don’t know what is obvious to you (assuming you don’t know them, or anything about them).

I recall that later as I started to learn more of Islam in college, I would start looking at others thinking, why isn’t he doing this, or why isn’t she doing that? Astagfirillaah, how could someone say that?! That was the type of attitude I had towards other people’s personal flaws or mistakes in understanding, meanwhile I was (and still am) a work in progress.

After having this type of attitude for many years, eventually I realized, hey, what if someone looked at me the same way because of how I practiced or thought Islam was, back when I was ridiculously ignorant? That ignorance was really not my fault – I was not taught these issues growing up by my family, and maybe, just maybe, those other people I was looking down on now might be in the same situation I was in way back when. Shouldn’t I find out more about them first before inwardly condemning and feeling offended by them?

I recall Shaykh Muhammad Alshareef once use a metaphor for moving one’s life in the right direction. He said that if you’re trying to get to some destination, if you ask someone for directions, the first question they’ll ask you is, “Where are you right now?” Knowing where you are, you can get relevant directions to where you need to go.

Likewise when approaching people with the intent of helping them become better practicing Muslims – before we can tell them what they should do and why, we can’t assume they’re parked right next to us in terms of our own knowledge, practice, and understanding. We need to first figure out where they’re at, and then help provide a solution that’s appropriate for that them, not ourselves.

Many of us know the story of the bedouin who walked into the masjid, picked a corner, and proceeded relieve himself there. We also know the way that the Companions wanted to deal with him, and we know how the Prophet sallallaahu alayhi wa sallim treated him, seeing that he was a bedouin – he didn’t assume that the man knew that urinating in the masjid was not allowed, and so he explained to him in a kind and merciful manner that one didn’t do this kind of thing in the masjid.

Surprising as it may seem, smashing someone on the head with a hammer (as I once used to do) is often not the best way to help bring our brothers and sisters in Islam to proper knowledge and better practice. It’s been my experience over the years that mercy, kindness, and not being personally offended go a long way in helping people come closer to Allah subhaana wa ta’aala, and one of the best ways to achieve that mercy and kindness is to lay off on the assumptions and pre-judgements until one has a clear picture of who they’re really dealing with and trying to help, insha’Allah.

These are just small samplings of the mistakes in my understanding of Islam (among many) that I’ve had over the years – how about you? What mistakes in understanding and knowledge have you learned lessons from over the years?