THIS ABOVE ALL
Why Islam is different
Khushwant Singh

GENERAL notions that Islam is like any other religion and that one’s belief is one’s personal business are wrong: Islamic perception of the role of religion in society is different from that of other religions. Islam does not look upon religion as a personal affair but as a social obligation, it does not approve of separating of religion from politics or governance. Consequently, the reactions of Muslims to many important issues are different from reactions to similar issues by people who subscribe to other faiths.

Since its inception, Christianity has accepted different roles for lay rulers and the church. Jesus Christ told Apostle Matthew: "Render unto Caesar things that are Caesar’s and unto God the things that are God’s." Islam never accepted this division of roles: for it the state and religion were inseparable. Said Allama Iqbal many centuries after the founding of Islam: "If you separate religion from politics, what is left is changezi (barbarity). As late as 1925 when the head of the leading seminary of Islamic theology, Al Azhar in Cairo, appointed by the President, suggested separating religion and state, he was promptly sacked from his post.

A vivid example of the close association between religion and the state can be seen during the month of Ramzaan when all Muslims are enjoined to fast from sunrise to sunset. The sighting of the new moon is a joint affair between the state and Muslim clergy. In Muslim countries, restaurants are closed by state orders during daytime. In contrast, during Lent when Christians are meant to fast, it is left to individuals to decide whether or not they should abstain from food or drink. The authorities do not meddle with their decisions.

The only Muslim nation which has broken away from the spartan tradition of fasting during Ramzaan is Turkey after Kemal Ataturk Pasha westernised his country. When visiting Turkey for the first time, I happened to be in the capital, Ankara, on the first of Ramzaan. I was amazed to see men and women drinking beer and snacking on pavements outside restaurants.

It is the same with the Haj pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, enjoined on all Muslims who can afford it. Most poor Muslims are unable to do so. So Muslim states give huge grants out of the state exchequer to make it possible for them to visit Mecca. So oddly does India because it has a large population of Muslims.

According to Professor Leslie Palmier, an eminent English sociologist, one reason why the Muslim clergy continues to remain ultra-conservative is because they have not evolved an independent disciplinary system by which their clerics — Imams, Ulema and Mullahs — could be questioned when they use intemperate language. There is no recognised system of selection or dismissal. Consequently, they often indulge in rousing Muslims’ emotions against those they conceive to be enemies of Islam. Fatwas are pronounced on writers like Salman Rushdie and Taslima Nasreen by some but ignored by others. When Ayatollah Khomeini, President of Iran, in his capacity as Mujhtahid (interpreter) of Islam, issued a fatwa passing the sentence of death on Rushdie, other Muslims nations — which had also imposed a ban on his The Satanic Verses (as did India) — ignored the fatwa.

Islam generates more passion among its followers than any other religion. It does not believe in turning the other cheek but in hitting back. Palmier writes: "To be a Muslim means to accept that your life is well lost if it is in defence of your faith." You become a shaheed (martyr), assured of a place in Paradise.

The reaction of Iraqis to the ouster of Saddam Hussein should be viewed in this light. They hated Saddam. But no sooner did the Americans and their allies oust Saddam, they turned against them. This is often explained a patriotic rising against a foreign invader. Insurgency, however, began after the announcement that Iraq would be handed back to Iraq’s chosen leaders. Now, it is not Iraqis against outsiders but Iraqis versus Iraqis, Shias versus Sunnis versus Kurds, Muslims killing Muslims.

It had been a heavy day. My well-wishers started coming in from mid-morning and continued in an endless stream till the evening. Evidently they thought well of me and wanted to wish me farewell before I left Delhi. I liked them and was moved by their gesture of goodwill. The telephone also kept ringing every five minutes, asking me if they could drop in for five minutes. I knew five in fact would end up as 50. I put them off as politely as I could. My nerves were frayed.I held myself from screaming "for God’s sake go". I wanted to be by myself. I thought of Mirza Ghalib in the same predicament:

Let me now go to some place

Where there is no one

No like-minded for converse,

No one who speaks my tongue.

I slept fitfully. I was up by 4 a.m. It was pitch dark. I sat in my armchair brooding. Was I becoming a nut-case? The older I am becoming, the less tolerant I am of people, including friends. I was lost in my thoughts when across the still sleeping city came the wail of a railway engine waiting for clearance to move on to New Delhi station. There is a haunting melancholy about the engine siren heard from a distance which makes one infinitely sad like a call from the unknown. I shook myself out of my somnolence, took a shower, change and got ready to leave for my escape villa in the Shivaliks.

I had booked myself to leave on Friday when there are fewer people on the train than on weekends. I had not realised this Friday was the birth anniversary of both Lord Mahavira and Prophet Mohammed (Eid-e-millad un-Nabi) and a gazetted holiday. The train was packed. The compartment over-chilled. I shivered in the cold and had cramps in my hands and legs. The journey was uneventful. We (Iwas accompanied by my daughter) stepped out into the blazing heat of Chandigarh and got into a fancy, air-conditioned car provided by my friend Nanak Kohli. There were hardly any monkeys on the roadside. I suspected they had gone somewhere where they could find water. Trees along the route raised my spirits. Neelams (jacarandas) were in profusion like huge blocks of blue sapphires; corals, flame of the forest, in full flaming reds, pink and white bouhenias. I wondered if the jacarandas planted by my son and daughter with their mother’s ashes over three years ago would be in flower. It was the first thing I went to see as I stepped out of the car at Raj Villa. I was disappointed. It had shrivelled to a leafless stock and was obviously dead. (Contributed by Vipan Buckshey, N. Delhi)