My friends like to say that I am not “fanatic, not extremist” and not “liberal”. I take it as a compliment, although I do not know what exactly they mean. The three words have lost their old definitions and to date no one has come up with internationally accepted replacements. Consequently, they evoke unpleasant connotations and their use or misuse often creates divisions, strains relationships, destroys friendships and promotes mistrust and hard feelings.
Since my friends have not yet attached a label to my way of thinking, they sometimes seek my perspective on piping, hot events in our turbulent region and ask questions about Islam, Muslims, Muslim societies, the Arab culture and Arab traditions.
Last month I had lunch in a Chinese restaurant with a good friend, whom I had not seen for ages. We were eating, chatting and having a pleasant time, when suddenly she got out of her handbag a newspaper, placed it on the table, pointed out a story, which she said had moved her to tears. She wanted me to read it and I was ready to oblige.
It was a story with a disturbing beginning, a sad middle and no end in sight, the kind a woman could see in a nightmare.
The events took place in a busy coffee shop, where a businesswoman and a businessman were sitting at a table sipping coffee and discussing work. Because the gentleman was not the lady’s husband, father, grandfather, brother, son or uncle, the couple was arrested and according to the narrator, the lady was pushed into a taxi and driven to a female prison.
There she was subjected to a search and a treatment unbefitting a member of the fair sex, her mobile phone was confiscated and she was not allowed to contact her husband to inform him of her plight and her whereabouts. Her pleadings to get in touch with her other half were ignored and her pleas for clemency were met with disdain.
To cut the story short, the husband was finally alerted and summoned to collect his traumatized wife. When he arrived, the distraught victim of circumstances was set free. The married couple left the prison, fuming with anger and vowing to sue the creators of an incident that hurt the dignity of the well-respected businesswoman and put her reputation at stake. Later on, the businessman, who had been taken to a men’s prison, was set free too.
When I finished reading the story, my friend could detect signs of uneasiness on my face. She asked the question, which I had anticipated and dreaded. “What do you say to this?”
I promptly replied, “Ridiculous, ludicrous, not a real story perhaps”, hoping that what I had been reading was a piece of fiction.
“No my dear,” she replied,”It is a true story. When do you think this will stop?”
Feeling like a trapped mouse, or a child taking a test for which he/she was not prepared, I answered the question as best as I could. I described the social background against which the events unfolded, the changes which I believed were happening and I expressed an opinion that with patience and tolerance difficult social incidents could be avoided.
Because I made the mistake of using the vague terms “extremist”, “liberal”, “patience” and “tolerance”, my friend misunderstood my words and accused me of insensitivity.
She said she was deeply shocked that I sided with the guilty, ruthless “extremists” against the innocent victim of old traditions.
Her anger was such that she decided to bestow on me the unflattering titles “shallow extremist” and “staunch supporter of extremism”!! Disappointed, hurt and upset we paid the bill, exchanged cold farewell greetings and went our separate ways.
“Globalization is undoubtedly a reality”, I thought to myself. “Who would have thought that an incident in a coffee shop at one end of the globe would be felt in a Chinese restaurant at the other end!
Change is inevitable.
They who aspire for swift, total social transformation, regardless of consequences, and they who resist change and fear that the disappearance of any of the old traditions would open the door to social illnesses, will gradually move toward the middle and join the large moderate majority aspiring for a change that helps it get rid of the dirty bath water and keep the precious baby intact.
The forces of change cannot be stopped, but their power can be adjusted, controlled and adapted to our social needs.
It would be a shame if an appetite for total transformation and a strong resistance to positive change creates cracks in the fabric of our society, sweeps away the precious baby with the dirty bath water, or kills the baby and leaves the dirty bath water for many to sink in.
