Why We Left Islam (9 page)

W
HILE IT IS EASY to call those who leave Islam “apostates,” it is very difficult to be one.

“The process of going from faith to enlightenment is arduous and painful,” and according to Ali Sina it is far from being an easy decision.

Born into a somewhat religious family, Ali became concerned about the fanatical teachings of the
mullahs
at his family’s mosque. Furthermore, he could not understand the hatred many Muslims harbor against almost all non-Muslims. Ali also witnessed how the teachings he received about the Qur’an taught hatred and encouraged prejudice. Finding this hard to accept, he began to question how the Creator of the universe could be so cruel and myopic, especially in regarding women as imbeciles. In Islamic states the testimony of women is not admissible in court, and if a woman is raped she cannot accuse her rapist. Witnessing such abuses of women and their rights, Ali eventually began a Web site to reach out to other peaceful Muslims who might share his concerns. The Islamists quickly shut him down. However, he gathered enough strength to start again and today believes that the old way of killing apostates, burning their books, and silencing them can no longer work. In this modern age, Ali believes no one can stop people
from reading and thinking critically, and that now the door of freedom of thought has been opened it can never be closed again.

Although Ali’s site is banned in Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and other Islamist countries, he believes that a great number of other Muslims who never knew the truth are being exposed for the first time and are shocked into reality. His testimony chronicles a long path to self-discovery. The tragedy on the pages of history is written with the blood of people killed in the name of God.

Ali’s Testimony

I was born into a moderately religious family. On my mother’s side I have a few relatives who are
ayatollahs
. Although my grandfather (whom I never met) was somewhat a skeptic, we were believers. My parents were not fond of the
mullahs
. In fact, we did not have much to do with our more fundamentalist relatives. We liked to think of ourselves as believing in “true Islam,” not the one taught and practiced by the
mullahs
.

I recall discussing religion with the husband of one of my aunts when I was about fifteen years old. He was a fanatical Muslim who was very concerned about the
fiqh
(Islamic jurisprudence). It prescribes the way Muslims should pray, fast, run their public and private lives, do business, clean themselves, use the toilet, and even copulate. I argued this has nothing to do with true Islam, that it is a fabrication of the
mullahs
, that excessive attention to
fiqh
diminishes the impact and importance of the pure message of Islam—to unite man with his Creator. This view is mostly inspired by Sufism. Many Iranians, thanks to Rumi’s poems, are to a great degree Sufis in their outlook.

In my early youth I noticed discriminations and cruelties against the members of religious minorities in Iran. This was more noticeable in provincial towns where the level of education was low and the
mullahs
had a better grip over gullible people. Due to my father’s work we spent a few years in small towns out of the capital. I recall one of my teachers who planned to take the class swimming. We were excited and looked forward to it. In the class there were a couple of kids who were Baha’i and Jewish.
The teacher did not let them accompany us. He said they are not allowed to swim in the same pool that Muslims swim in. I cannot forget the kids’ disappointment as they left school with tears in their eyes, subdued and heartbroken. At that age, maybe nine or ten, I could not make sense of and was saddened by this injustice. I thought it was the kids’ fault for not being Muslims.

I believe I was lucky for having openminded parents who encouraged me to think critically. They tried to instill in me the love of God and his messenger, yet upheld humanistic values like equality of rights between man and woman, and love for all humankind. In a sense, this is how most modern Iranian families are. In fact, the majority of Muslims who have some education believe Islam is a humanistic religion that respects human rights, that elevates the status of women and protects their rights. Most Muslims believe that Islam means peace. Needless to say, few of them have read the Qur’an.

I spent my early youth in this sweet dream, advocating “true Islam” as I thought it should be, and criticizing the
mullahs
and their deviations from the real teachings of Islam. I idealized an Islam that conformed to my own humanistic values. Of course my imaginary Islam was a beautiful religion. It was a religion of equality and peace. It was a religion that encouraged its followers to go after knowledge and be inquisitive. It was a religion that was in harmony with science and reason. In fact, I thought that science got its inspiration from this religion. The Islam I believed was a religion that sparkled with modern science, which eventually bore its fruit in the West and made modern discoveries and inventions possible. Islam, I believed, was the real cause of modern civilization. The reason Muslims were living in such a miserable state of ignorance, I thought, was all the fault of the self-centered
mullahs
and religious leaders who for their own personal gain had misinterpreted the real teachings of Islam.

Many Muslims believe that the great Western civilization has its roots in Islam. They recall great Middle Eastern scientific minds whose contributions to science have been crucial in the birth of modern science. Omar Khayyam was a great mathematician who precisely calculated the length of the year to within .74 percent of a
second. Zakaria Razi is regarded as one of the first founders of empirical science who based his knowledge on research and experimentation. Avicenna’s (Bu Ali Sina) monumental encyclopedia of medicine was taught in European universities for centuries. There are so many more great luminaries who have “Islamic” names who were the pioneers of modern science when Europe was languishing in the medieval Dark Ages. Like all Muslims, I believed all these great men were Muslims, that they were inspired by the wealth of hidden knowledge in the Qur’an, and that if today’s Muslims could regain the original purity of Islam, the long-lost glorious days of Islam would return and Muslims would lead the advancement of world civilization once again.

Iran was a Muslim country, but it was also a corrupt country. The chances of getting into a university were slim. Only one in ten applicants could get into the university. Often they were forced to choose subjects that they did not want to study because they could not get enough points for the subjects of their choice. Students with the right connections often got the seats.

The standard of education in Iran was not ideal. Universities were underfunded, as the Shah preferred building a powerful military to building the infrastructure of the country and investing in peoples’ education. These were reasons why my father thought I would be better off to leave Iran to continue my education elsewhere.

We considered America and Europe, but my father, acting upon the counsel of a few of his religious friends, thought another Islamic country would be better for a sixteen-year-old boy. We were told that the West’s morality is too lax, people are perverted, the beaches are full of nudes, and they drink and have licentious lifestyles, all of which are dangers to a young man. So I was sent to Pakistan instead, where people were religious and thus it was safe and moral. A friend of the family told us that Pakistan is just like England, except that it is cheaper.

This, of course, proved to be untrue. I found Pakistanis to be as immoral and corrupt as Iranians. Yes, they were very religious. They did not eat pork and I saw no one consuming alcohol in public, but I noticed that many had dirty minds, lied, were hypocrites,
were cruel to women, and above all, were filled with hatred of the Indians. I did not find them better than Iranians in any way. They were religious, but not moral or ethical.

In college, instead of taking Urdu I took Pakistani Culture to complete my A level FSc (Fellow of Science). I learned the reason for Pakistan’s partition from India and for the first time heard about Mohammad Ali Jinah, the man Pakistanis called Qaid-e A’zam, the great leader. He was presented as an intelligent man, the father of the nation, while Gandhi was spoken of in a derogatory way. Even then, I could not but side with Gandhi and condemn Jinah as an arrogant, ambitious man who was the culprit for breaking up a country and causing millions of deaths. I always had a mind of my own and was a maverick in my thinking. No matter what I was taught, I always came to my own conclusion and did not believe what I was told.

I did not see differences of religion as valid reasons for breaking up a country. The very word “Pakistan” was an insult to the Indians. Pakistanis called themselves
pak
(clean) to distinguish themselves from the Indians who were
najis
(unclean). Ironically, I never saw a people dirtier than the Pakistanis, both physically and mentally. It was disappointing to see another Islamic nation in such intellectual and moral bankruptcy. In discussions with my friends I failed to convince anyone of “true Islam.” I condemned their bigotry and fanaticism while they disapproved of me for my un-Islamic views.

I related all this to my father and decided to go to Italy for my university studies. In Italy, people drink wine and eat pork, but they were more hospitable, friendlier, and less hypocritical than Muslims were. I noticed people were willing to help without expecting something in return. I met a very hospitable elderly couple, who invited me to have lunch with them on Sundays so I would not have to stay home alone. They did not want anything from me. They just wanted someone to love. I was almost a grandson to them. Only strangers in a new country, who do not know anyone and cannot speak the language, can truly appreciate the value of the help and hospitality of the locals.

Their house was sparkling clean, with shiny marble floors. This contradicted my idea of Westerners. Although my family was very open towards other people, Islam taught me that non-Muslims are
najies
(
Qur’an 9:28
) and one should not befriend them. I still have a copy of the Farsi translation of the Qur’an I used to often read from. One of the underlined verses is:

O you who believe! Take not the Jews and the Christians as
awliya’
(friends, protectors, helpers, etc.), they are but be
awliya’
to one another.
Qur’an 5: 51

I had difficulty understanding the wisdom of such a verse. I wondered why I should not befriend this wonderful elderly couple who had no ulterior motives in showing me their hospitality other than just making me feel at home. I thought they were “true Muslims” and I tried to raise the subject of religion, hoping they would see the truth of Islam and embrace it. But they were not interested and politely changed the subject. I was not stupid enough at any time in my life to believe that all nonbelievers would go to hell. I read this in the Qur’an before but never wanted to think about it. I simply brushed it off or ignored it. Of course, I knew that God would be pleased if someone recognized his messenger but never thought he would actually be cruel enough to burn someone in hell for eternity, even if that person only does good deeds, just because he was not a Muslim. I read the following warning:

If anyone desires a religion other than Islam (submission to Allah), never will it be accepted of him; and in the Hereafter He will be in the ranks of those who have lost (all spiritual good).
Qur’an 3:85

Yet I paid little heed and tried to convince myself the meaning is something other than what it appears to be. At that moment this was not a subject that I was ready to handle. So I did not think about it.

I hung around with my Muslim friends and noticed that most of them lived a very immoral life of double standards. Most of them found girlfriends and slept with them. That was very un-Islamic, or so I thought at that time. What bothered me most was
they did not value these girls as real human beings who deserved respect. These girls were not Muslim girls and therefore were used just for sex. This attitude was not general. Those who made less show of religiosity were more respectful and sincere towards their Western girlfriends and some even loved them and wanted to marry them. Paradoxically, those who were more religious were less faithful towards their girlfriends. I always thought that true Islam is what is right. If something is immoral, unethical, dishonest, or cruel, it cannot be Islam. I could not see how the behavior of these immoral and callous Muslims could be the result of what was taught in Islam.

Years later, I realized that the truth is exactly the opposite. I found many verses that were disturbing and made me revise my whole opinion of Islam. As I saw it, the tragedy was that the very same people who lived unethically and immorally were the ones who called themselves Muslims, said their prayers, fasted, and were the first to defend Islam angrily if anyone raised a question about it. They were the ones who would lose their tempers and start a fight if someone dared to say a word against Islam.

Once I befriended a young Iranian man at the university restaurant, later introducing him to two other Muslim friends of mine. We were all about the same age. He was an erudite, virtuous, wise young man. My other two friends and I were captivated by his charm and high moral values. We used to wait for him and sit next to him during lunch hour, as we always learned something from him. We used to eat a lot of spaghetti and risotto and craved a good Persian
ghorme sabzi
and
chelow
. Our friend said his mother sent him some dried vegetables and invited us to his house the next Sunday for lunch. We found his two-room apartment very clean, unlike the houses of other guys. He made us a delicious
ghorme sabzi,
which we ate with great gusto, and then we sat back chatting and sipping our tea. It was then we noticed his Baha’i books. When we asked about them, he said he was a Baha’i.