By: Dr. Ang Swee Chai

I grew up in Singapore. When I was 19, I attended a Billy Graham Crusade and made the decision to follow Jesus. At that time I did not know that meant discipleship.  I had not heard of his disciples like Nathanael, nor Andrew, nor Phillip, nor Simon and how with the exception of John, they were all martyred. My parents were Chinese speaking atheists. I also had no idea Jesus was a Jew!

Soon after that I was baptised in a Fundamentalist, Pro-Israel church. I taught Sunday school, including the conquest of Canaan, David and Goliath, and the victory of Elijah against the Philistines. For me, the Abrahamic Covenant only consisted of the Promised Land to God’s chosen people Israel. The creation of the State of Israel in 1948 transitioned neatly into a re-run of the Old Testament. We saw it as the fulfilment of God’s prophesied plan for his people Israel in the Old Testament. Later that year we all rejoiced when Israel won the Six Day War. We were filled with pride and triumphalism that Israel had defeated the Arabs decisively. 

I read the Old Testament and connected to the State of Israel without taking into consideration Jesus and the New Testament. I did not understand that the most important part of the Abrahamic Covenant was the promise of a Saviour through whom all nations will be blessed. I found out later that what Jesus spoke about to his followers in Matthew 5, was not inheriting the Land but inheriting the Earth and the Kingdom of Heaven.

Thank God, I married a human rights lawyer. Two weeks later he fled arrest by the security police. A month later I was arrested for questioning. That was the first time I was put in prison. (Some of you might know that I had been in prison a couple more times since! The latest being in 2018 when I was medic on board the Freedom Flotilla Awda loaded with antibiotics and dressings for Gaza. The boat was abducted in international waters. All on board were taken to prison in Ashdod and cargo and boat impounded to this day.) 

Upon release from Singapore prison, I found my husband in London and we both became political refugees. It was a great comedown. From being middle class professional Singaporeans we became homeless, jobless and stateless refugees. We struggled desperately to rebuild our lives.

In 1982, five years later, we were just about sorted out. I had become a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons of England and was working in St Thomas’ Hospital. My husband found work as a journalist. We had a permanent place to live in. 

But God was about to change things.

The television ran nightly news on a war in Lebanon. The country was relentlessly bombed. Its capital Beirut was held siege. Food, medicine, water and electricity were blockaded. Although portrayed as a war against the terrorist Palestine Liberation Organisation, it was clear that the bomb targets were civilians – hospitals, schools, homes, factories, shops – and not terrorists. The headlines were 14,000 killed and tens of thousands made homeless a few weeks into the war. There were pictures of wounded victims, many children, some dying, in partially bombed hospitals. Charred bodies were pulled out of bombed out buildings, including bodies of small children.  

My heart was torn apart watching the suffering. It was made worse when I learnt that the offensive was by Israel. I became restless and anxious for the victims.

How could Israel do this? To compound matters, my Christian friends were celebrating the death and destruction citing Biblical verses, calling this the work of God’s hand! 

How should a Christian surgeon respond?  What would Jesus say? I needed wisdom and guidance, but my immediate circle provided none. Finally God spoke. In Corinthians, the Apostle Paul wrote about “seeing darkly as through a glass, but one day we will see face to face” and about how we “are children and thought and spoke as children, but when we grow up we will put aside childish things”. He went on “Faith, hope and love endure forever, but the greatest of these is love. “  I began to ask God “How?”

A week later an appeal came from Christian Aid for a volunteer orthopaedic surgeon to treat the wounded.  God had answered my prayers. I resigned from St Thomas’ Hospital, joined Christian Aid as a volunteer surgeon on their medical team and left for Beirut. For the first time that summer my heart was at peace.

We had to get to Beirut by sea since the airport was bombed. The ferry was not able to land as the war planes pounded this capital continuously for 36 hours. We got in when there was a gap in the bombing.

 The situation was hideous, blocks and blocks of high rise buildings reduced to heaps of rubble – just as on television – only this time life size and three dimensional. Homeless families were all over the pavements and road sides. Hundreds were buried under the rubble. There was no water and electricity. I started work in the converted basement carpark of the Near East Theological College treating horrendous war injuries – the young, the old, men, women and babies.

Meanwhile, Israel had threatened to flatten the whole of Lebanon to get the PLO.

Ten weeks after the war started, fourteen thousand members of the PLO agreed to leave Lebanon forever in exchange for a ceasefire. The USA had agreed that their families left behind would be protected by a multinational peacekeeping force.

With the evacuation, I was seconded to work for the Palestine Red Crescent Society, a member of both the International Red Cross and the PLO. Eight of their hospitals and 13 clinics were totally destroyed.  The only hospital standing was Gaza Hospital. I was to set up an orthopaedic trauma department for that hospital.

Gaza Hospital overlooked Sabra Shatilla, one of the fourteen Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon. For someone who grew up seeing Palestinians as terrorists, I was shocked and outraged to learn of how the refugee camps came into existence.

 In 1948 half the population of Palestine – 750,000 persons – were driven out of their homes at gunpoint and the threat of being massacred. They fled into the neighbouring countries of Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, and Egypt. Their country Palestine became Israel and they were never allowed to return home. Over the years their tents gave way to buildings and the refugee camps became towns. Here children were born refugees, grew up refugees and died refugees. 

The world moved on and they were forgotten. They remained stateless since Palestine no longer existed

Every single home in the refugee camps was destroyed – either totally or partially. I watched women with young children and elderly relatives, many also wounded; carrying their belongings back to these ruins. They had lost loved ones through the evacuation, through the bombs, but they once again started to repair their damaged homes, clear the rubble, paint the walls, support each other and pick up their broken lives.

These people had suffered so much yet remained so human, generous, kind and dignified. I was overwhelmed by their generosity in the midst of their poverty. Their story was not in any history textbook, but every Palestinian child knew the name of their village in Palestine. Many of these villages had already been blown up after they left. Gaza Hospital was named after the Gaza Strip in Palestine.

I sat in their bombed out homes while they served me Arabic coffee and shared their meagre United Nation food rations with me. The women introduced me to their traditional Palestinian embroidery of stunning beauty. Patterns and motifs typical of their home villages they left behind in Palestine were sewn on black cloth with brilliantly coloured silk threads. Each stitch is a testimony of their history, heritage, culture and resilience.  

I fell in love with the Palestinians – but was still wondering at the back of my mind how come they were labelled terrorists.

Three weeks later the Multinational Peacekeeping Force protecting the Palestinian refugees abruptly withdrew and the land invasion by Israeli tanks took place. Hundreds of tanks over-ran West Beirut and some surrounded Sabra Shatilla. They sealed Sabra Shatilla so no one could escape and sent their allies, the right-wing Christian Phalanges into the camps. What followed was the infamous, savage Sabra Shatilla Massacre killing 3,500 Palestinians and Lebanese.

Our surgical team worked non-stop for 72 hours till we were forced out of Gaza Hospital at machinegun point. We had worked 72 hours non-stop in the basement operating theatre, for the most part without food and water, to save a few dozen lives – only to emerge to find out that people were killed by the thousands in the camp.  Many of them were tortured before death, and women were raped before being killed. 

Groups of camp people were held captive along the road we were forced to march along. From their terrified faces, they knew they were going to be killed.  A young mother tried to give me her little baby – hoping I could take it to safety. Both were killed.

The Massacre had exploded the myth that Palestinians are terrorists. The heaps of bodies in the camp alleys finally convinced the world that they were the victims of terror. Robbed of their homeland, driven to live in poverty and insecurity in the refugee camps, they were finally butchered on foreign soil. On each dead body was a refugee identity card stating their place of origin in Palestine. Most of the dead were refugees from Galilee. 

Up till then I had lived 33 years without knowing Palestinians existed. I bought into the lie that they were terrorists. I used to be that strident Zionist Christian teaching my Sunday school children that

Israel must annihilate the PLO terrorists.  I got blood on my hands. I felt crushed. I asked God to forgive me for my prejudice and bigotry against them. They are the children of God and my brothers and sisters.

Palestinians can only suffer and die daily because we fail to see them as human beings, and choose to walk the other way. I can no longer walk away. I asked God for forgiveness, I must also repent. Just crying and feeling sorry were not enough. Like Zacchaeus on that sycamore tree in Jericho, and Paul on the Damascus Road, my life had to change. “Lord – take my life and use it for these people whom we have collectively wronged. Please give me a second chance to serve them. Teach me to love them more and more”.

This is my thirty eighth year journeying with the Palestinians. They have accepted me as their family. 

That journey brought me to the Occupied Palestinian Territories where brutal abuses of human rights take place daily. 

In the West Bank daily arbitrary arrests and house demolitions are the norm. In 2019 alone five and a half thousand Palestinians were arbitrarily arrested, of which 889 were children and 128 were women. West Bank is imprisoned behind a seven hundred kilometre separation wall cutting through homes, schools and farms. 

Gaza has been blockaded for 12 years and bombarded by land, air and sea with several thousand killed and many more made homeless. Among the dead were more than a thousand children. Electricity is scarce and safe drinking water non-existent. Since March 2018, more than three hundred unarmed demonstrators asking for the right to return home were shot dead by snipers, with 36,000 wounded, a third of them children and women. More than 1,500 will never walk again due to high velocity sniper wounds to their legs.  

As we celebrate 2020, Gaza has become unliveable. My latest attempts to go and help Gaza resulted in being imprisoned and deported.

 I pray that God will give me courage to continue to be faithful to them in the face of persecution. I must have faith that after the crucifixion comes resurrection. I have often been asked by my Palestinian friends “Swee – as Palestinians we are born to suffer and have no choice. But why do you not walk away?”  I recall Jesus asking His disciples the same question “Will you also walk away?” Peter replied “Lord – to whom shall we go? You have the words of life.” How can I walk away and stay human?  

For me, being with the Palestinians is a great blessing from God. I identify with David when he was broken before God in deep gratitude saying: “Who am I Sovereign Lord, and what is my family, that you brought me this far?”  

As a surgeon, I mend wounds. But I am a human being.  I must speak up about how they were caused.  Since that time, I have a passion to speak out in obedience to God’s command “speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend

 Some people are called to speak on behalf of the unborn because they cannot speak for themselves. Others are called to speak up for the environment. I am called to speak up for the Palestinians. 

Speaking up invites persecution. Each time before I speak in public I pray Second Timothy 1:7 “For God hath not given us the Spirit of fear, but of Power, and of Love and a Sound Mind”.

I still have with me my picture of destitute Palestinian children of Shatila camp standing amidst the ruin and rubble. They survived the massacre but lost their parents and homes. In the foreground of the picture were dead and decaying bodies; in the background their destroyed homes. The air was filled with the stench of decomposing bodies. But between death and destruction were the Palestinian children. As I focussed my camera, they raised their hands in the victory sign and said to me: “We are not afraid, let Israel come”. I have returned many times to the camps looking for them. I have never been able to find them again. They must have perished since. Their wish was for me to show their picture to all my friends, the picture of them standing courageously against this dark uncaring world. I have honoured that wish. 

They live forever in my heart. Whenever the situation becomes unbearable, I revisit this picture for strength. There will be no turning back from this journey towards humanity. And today I invite you to join us too.  

St Pauls, Cambridge, 12 January 2020. Dr Ang Swee Chai is the Founder Medical Aid for Palestinians.

Oleh: Ainul Mardhiah

Saya merupakan ahli Projek Sukarelawan Pendidikan (SukaDidik) 2019. Dihantar ke Kg. Tagupi Laut, Lahad Datu, Sabah selama 3 bulan. Saya bersama dua orang lagi rakan iaitu Nabila dan Sofwa. Saya sangat berminat untuk menjadi salah seorang sukarelawan sebelum mendaftar diri untuk mengambil STAM di Ma’had Attarbiyah Al-Islamiyah, Perlis (MATRI) lagi. Tambahan pula setelah mendengar pengalaman-pengalaman sukarelawan yang lepas dan menyedari tanggungjawab menyampaikan ilmu kepada masyarakat yang tidak berpeluang mempelajari ilmu seperti kita.

Walaupun saya masih dalam praktikal. Tapi saya berazam untuk menjadi guru dan murabbi yang terbaik serta menunjukkan akhlak yang baik. Di sana perhimpunan pagi bermula pada jam 7 pagi. Bagi orang semenanjung pukul 7 waktu yang sangat awal. Akan tetapi untuk menjaga nama baik guru, maka saya akan bersiap awal untuk ke sekolah. Demikianlah hasil tunjuk ajar dari Ustaz Omar Salleh Mudir MATRI.

Saya banyak bertanya soalan dari guru-guru MATRI semasa berada di lapangan. Antaranya Cikgu Azmi, Ustaz Yazid, Sir Abduh, Ustazah Khalida, Alumni SukaDidik dan pak cik- pak cik di Sabah. Guru-guru banyak mengajar saya menerima kekurangan dan saling melengkapi dengan kelebihan yang Allah kurniakan. Pengalaman ini juga mengajar saya berorganisasi dan berkomunikasi dengan baik. Cikgu Lajuliadi juga berpesan kepada saya untuk selalu mendoakan anak-anak murid di Tagupi. Maka dengan itu mereka mendidik saya untuk lebih dekat dengan Allah di setiap langkah kehidupan. Allah menghadirkan anak-anak murid di sini untuk meningkatkan lagi hubungan kita dengan Allah dan memperbaiki kekurangan yang terdapat dalam diri kita. Antara nasihat yang paling memberi kesan kepada saya ialah pesanan dari Ustaz Yazid, beliau selalu berpesan untuk bersangka baik dan mempercayai kekuasaan Allah dan meyakini pertolonganNya dalam segala tindakan kita.

Semasa berada di sana saya air mata saya tidak dapat ditahan, seringkali ia terbit membasahi pipi. Tetapi banyak juga dorongan yang diberikan dari keluarga terutama ummi abah. Ummi menasihati bahawa jika saya yang memilih jalan ini maka sebenarnya Allah tahu kemampuan saya dan saya kena teruskan. Abah pula hantar satu video dari Asy-Syahid Imam Hassan Al-Banna berkaitan nasihatnya kepada pemuda. Menjadi guru memerlukan jiwa yang kuat.

2 minggu sebelum penghantaran batch kami ke Sabah, Ustaz Yazid menghantar video wajah-wajah bakal sukarelawan yang berlagu Rindu dari kumpulan Hijjaz. Saya sangat tersentuh dengan lagu ini dan membawa segunung harapan ketika berkhidmat di Sabah. Akan tetapi saya mempelajari hakikat kehidupan bahawa proses perubahan memerlukan masa. الوقت جزء من العلاج. Maka ustaz berpesan jangan berharap pada tanah tapi berharaplah pada langit. Maka pesanan ini mengingatkan saya kepada Al-Khaliq dan Allah yang Maha Membolak-balikkan hati.

Rindu itu adalah
Anugerah dari Allah
Insan yang berhati nurani
Punyai rasa rindu
Rindu pada kedamaian
Rindu pada ketenangan
Rindukan kesejahteraan
Dan juga kebahagiaan
Para pencinta kebenaran
Rindukan suasana
Masyarakat yang terjalin
Aman dan sejahtera
Merindukan tertegaknya
Kalimah Allah di muka bumi
Dan dalam merindukan
Keampunan Tuhannya

Rindu pada kedamaian
Rindu pada ketenangan
Rindukan kesejahteraan
Dan juga kebahagiaan
Dan seluruh umat itu
Merindukan cahaya
Yang menyinari kehidupan
Rindu kepada Tuhan

Hijjaz – Rindu

Perjalanan kami dari Kota Kinabalu mengambil masa seharian untuk sampai ke Tagupi. Kami bertolak dari KK seawal 7 pagi dan bermalam di Lahad Datu. Lebuh raya di sana tidak sekata kerana faktor geografinya yang berbukit dan beralun. PPMI Tagupi terletak berhampiran dengan pantai. Untuk sampai ke sana kami harus melalui laluan tanah merah lembut dan berlopak selama 1 jam dikelilingi dengan hutan sawit.

Antara sebab saya ingin menyertai aktiviti ini adalah saya ingin merasai kesusahan orang lain dalam kehidupan terutama kesusahan mereka untuk mendapatkan ilmu.

Alhamdullillah saya rasai sendiri antara kesusahan masyarakat Tagupi. Walaupun tak sesusah yang dirasai oleh SukaDidik yang berada di kampung Simuning dan Lok Buani. Seperti tiada air paip. Pendidik di situ mengangkut air dari perigi ke rumah massing-masing untuk kegunaan makan, minum dan membasuh.

Saya ditempatkan bersama keluarga angkat yang juga keluarga pengetua di situ. Muallim Amin dengan isteri bersama ibu ayah dan 3 orang adiknya. Keadaan rumah kami agak senang berbanding rata-rata rumah di sekitar. Walaupun tiada lampu toilet ia tetap baik kerana masih ada lagi rumah-rumah yang tiada toilet.

Penduduk di sini ada yang setiap hari membawa tong-tong besar untuk mengisi air buat makan dan minum berbeza dengan kita hanya mengisi air di water filter.

Makanan di sini agak simple berbanding makanan di semenanjung.

Saya kagum dengan penduduk Asrama Desa kerana walaupun kehidupan daif tetapi mereka akan mengutip duit dari jiran-jiran jika ada lawatan dari luar untuk membuat sedikit jamuan. Antara menu wajib ialah air kelapa dan juga ikan bakar yang merupakan menu special di sini.

Selain itu juga saya sempat mengetahui makanan-makanan tradisional di sini. Antaranya. Sianglag, tiulaitum, piutu, kuih panggik-panggik. Saya juga suka dengan karya kraftangan kaum Suluk. Antaranya sairap, tambusak dan japang. Antara yang sedap juga ialah rumpai laut.

Anak-anak di sini sangat kreatif mempunyai tangan berseni. Ada yang dikurniakan suara yang merdu. Ada juga yang pandai melukis. Walaupun begitu, mereka tidak mendapat peluang seperti saya sebagai contoh mengambil SPM dalam subjek Pendidikan Seni Dan Visual. Yang pasti masyarakat di sini kuat-kuat kerana mereka banyak berjalan dan sudah terbiasa membuat aktiviti lasak seperti menombak sawit dan membuat kerja-kerja berat.

Bangunan sekolah pula tiada dinding, kipas mahupun lampu. Ya, open air. Kadang sambil mengajar dan perhimpunan kami ditemani kambing dan ayam.

Alhamdulillah, pengalaman ini membuatkan saya rasa lebih bersyukur dengan nikmat yang diberikan terutama nikmat iman dan Islam. Juga nikmat ibu, ayah, family, kawan-kawan yang sangat baik. Nikmat kecukupan.

Antara aktiviti yang saya lakukan sepanjang di sana ialah:
1. Mengajar di kelas subjek Bahasa Arab dan Sains.
2. Mengajarkan anak-anak mengaji di surau selepas maghrib dan kelas tahfiz.
3. Melakukan aktiviti luar seperti kem pemantapan sahsiah dan ibadah.
4. Menziarahi penduduk kampung yang berdekatan.

Walaupun masa pengajaran saya mengalahkan masa mengajar seorang lecturer sekalipun. Tetapi alhamdulillah saya bersyukur kerana Allah beri peluang berharga ini untuk mendidik diri saya menjadi lebih matang dalam kehidupan. Belajar dari mereka sangat berkesan. Walaupun dalam kesusahan tetapi masyarakat lebih kreatif dalam mengurus ekonomi rumah tangga terutama yang berkeluarga ramai.

Kem-kem yang dijalankan setiap minggu membuatkan para pelajar dapat mengisi masa lapang dengan aktiviti yang berfaedah, mencabar minda serta menambah pengetahuan agama seperti sirah sahabiyah. Begitu juga ketika karnival Sukan Sekolah. Walaupun saya tidak mahir bersukan tetapi hasil kata-kata semangat yang dikongsikan mampu membuatkan ahli rumah sukan khandaq cemerlang dalam sukan terutama sekali bola tampar.

Antara isu penduduk di sini ialah kesukaran mereka untuk pergi ke sekolah dan belajar seperti kanak-kanak yang lain. Hal ini menyebabkan mereka banyak ketingggalan dari sudut ilmu dan agama. Malah ramai di antara mereka mengambil keputusan untuk tidak bersekolah dan bekerja untuk menyara pendapatan keluarga.

Antara perkara yang menyentuh hati saya sepanjang 3 bulan di sana ialah kanak-kanak begitu berhajat kepada ilmu. Setiap malam datang kelas mengaji dan berlumba-lumba untuk tasmie hatta yang berumur 7 tahun pun sanggup duduk di atas riba untuk mengaji.

Ramai orang boleh jadi sukarelawan untuk mendapat populariti tetapi tidak ramai yang sanggup untuk terjun sendiri merasai kesusahan kehidupan masyarakat di sini.

Setiap hari saya menerima pelukan dari anak-anak perempuan yang ternyata mereka tahu bahawa kami hanya berkesempatan sebentar cuma di sana. Ibu-ibu juga akan mencium saya setiap kali berjumpa kerana berterima kasih atas kedatangan kami mengajar anak-anak mereka mengaji. Mereka tidak menyesal menjadi miskin dan menjadi warganegara yang tidak berdokumen kerana di Pusat Pembangunan Minda Insan ini, anak-anak mereka berpeluang mempelajari ilmu Islam berbanding di tempat-tempat lain.

Selepas kelas mengaji pagi terdapat salah seorang anak murid saya datang memegang tangan sambil mengatakan:

Muallimah (cikgu) janganlah pergi, janganlah tinggalkanku di sini..

Beserta dengan raut wajahnya yang sayu. Saya hanya mampu tersenyum. Kata-katanya seperti dia tahu bahawa aku akan pulang ke tanah air. Kemudian dia mengulangi lagi.

Muallimah janganlah pergi, tinggallah di sini.

Saya hanya membalas.

In Sya’ Allah nanti muallimah datang lagi. Kamu doalah supaya ada lagi SukaDidik yang datang mengajar kamu tahun hadapan.

Saya harapkan kata-kata tadi sudah cukup membuatkan dia berhenti merayu dan saya seupayanya menahan sebak.

Muallimah ajaklah ibu ayah muallimah tinggal di sini. Tinggal dengan kami

Terus dia memelukku erat. Saya hanya mampu tersenyum. Air mata saya menitis akhirnya, tiada lagi daya untuk menahannya.

Di dalam kelas saya suka bersembang dengan para pelajar samada waktu pnp mahupun waktu rehat.

Apa tempat yang awak teringin nak pergi?

Ternyata ramai yang mahu pergi ke MATRI. Kerana mereka tahu erti ilmu dalam kehidupan.

Apa yang kamu rasa bila tiada IC?

Mereka fitrahnya sedih tetapi jiwa mereka telah dididik untuk redha dengan ketentuan dan ujian dari Allah.

Ndak apa Muallimah, nak masuk syurga tak perlu IC pun.

Antara perkara yang mengubah pemikiran saya ialah saya amat simpati dengan anak- anak mangsa cerai. Sebelum ini saya kurang ambil berat dengan perasaan anak-anak yatim. Tapi sejak berada di Tagupi saya tak sanggup meninggalkan mereka. Mereka tidak mendapat nikmat berayah dan beribu. Mereka bekerja untuk menyara kehidupan. Mereka lebih berdikari.

Ramai para pelajar tidak makan kerana tiada duit. Berbeza dengan kita yang setiap hari berbelanja sakan.

Saya pernah belanja seorang adik ABC. kemudian dia bersuara.

Muallimah tahu tak ini pertama kali saya makan ABC.

Saya percaya bahawa untuk membangun sesebuah masyarakat dan negara haruslah dimulai dengan pendidikan. Justeru itu, saya berharap agar aktiviti SukaDidik ini dapat diteruskan bagi membantu, menyantuni dan mendidik anak-anak yang keciciran ini. Terima kasih kepada penyumbang budiman. Semoga sumbangan dari anda menjadi saham terbesar di akhirat. Moga-moga Allah menerima segala amalan kita.

Coretan ini ditulis oleh Ainul Mardhiah sebelum masuk dewan peperiksaan di USIM pada 11:27 pagi dan diterbitkan di laman Facebook beliau pada 06 Januari 2020. Untuk lebih banyak informasi berkenaan dengan aktiviti pendidikan Sabah oleh SukaDidik boleh lawati laman Facebook mereka di Khidmat Bakti Sukarelawan Pendidikan – Sabah.

 

Recently, Reza Aslan has come under spotlight as he appear in CNN’s program called ‘Believer’. In one of the series he went to meet one of Hindhu sect called Aghori. Aghori is a small cannibalistic sect which practices were rejected by mainstream hindhuism. There he ate a slice of part of human brain and drank alcohol from a human scull. This episode spark rage among Hindhu leader as it seems to show that Hindhuism is cannibalistic, which they are not. Other Muslim also fast to condemn Reza for this act.

In this article, I would like to argue one of the comment from an associate professor in USIM, Malaysia. She wrote:

“REZA ASLAN IS NOT A SCHOLAR IN ISLAM.”

Well, in some sense I agree with her. By most of the Muslim standard he might not be an ideal Muslim. He married to a Christian, drank alcohol, which is not acceptable in the Muslim’s tradition. But we might need to be extra careful in dismissing him entirely. Just because somebody done a sin, does not mean we have to reject him entirely. We are not God to judge.

Definition

Of course Islam is a very large religion, according to Pew its the second largest religion on earth with estimated 1.6 billion of Muslim. Islam have crossed the boundaries of geography, ethnicity, culture and time. There are a lot of interpretation which bring much of the diversity. The diversity, of course is a coin with double side. It has a good and bad side. The bad side is, its common to accuse somebody with different interpretation as heretic, apostates and dozen other labels. I found this exercise is counter productive, I rarely join such conversation. But, I think I can made one exception this time.

So lets take a rudimentary definition of scholar, one that is easiest for us to talk and argue. Merriam-webster define a scholar as a person who has studied a subject for a long time and knows a lot about it : an intelligent and well-educated person who knows a particular subject very well. Lets agree on this easy-to-understand-definition.

A typical mindset

Its very easy to see that among Muslims we tend to discuss subject such as this thing is haraam, that person is munafeeq, that person is not an actual Muslim. Actually its very easy to criticize something, you don’t even have to be an associate professor from Faculty of Medicine and Health Science. Everyone can do it, because talk is cheap. But to achieve something, to be at the top and get the criticism, is not a very easy thing to do, not everyone can do it.

When people ask her to slow down. She responded: “4 degrees define a scholar? Hmmmm.” . Which I found is not critical enough. You can’t past a VIVA with that kind of answer. From my perspective a professor who specialize in theology have more authority to talk about religion that an  associate professor from Faculty of Medicine and Health Science.

Publication

A scholar usually measured by the quantity and quality of its publication. Of course it is very hard to do a qualitative comparison, so lets limit our comparison with only quantitative comparison. If you search Reza Aslan in google scholar it will return 2720 results, and his publication is mainly on religion and theology. If you done your postgraduate studies, you will know how hard it is to get publish. Referring back to our definition, from my point of view Reza Aslan knows his subject very well, otherwise he will not get that much of publication. Guess how much result our associate professor has from google scholar? 52, mostly on biology and medicine. So who are more authoritative to talk about religion?

International front

Reza Aslan maybe will not qualify as a spiritual leader base on our standard definition. He is not, I can agree with that. But to dismiss him as not a scholar, is delusional. Maybe her standard of scholar is unique for herself and does not reflect the standard agreed by the international community.

One of Reza Aslan biggest contribution from my point of view, is how he help fight Islamophobia, bigotry and mis-information about Islam in the mainstream media. You can easily search his strong argument in Youtube, he supply his argument with fact not with Hmmmm. I specially like his counter argument against Bill Maher with commentaries by Cenk Uygur ( Cenk is an atheist).

Conclusion 

Reza Aslan is not an ayatollah. He is not one of the Shia 12 imam. He is not an Ulama by our standard. He is not an associate professor from Faculty of Medicine and Health Science.But he did study theology and religion seriously, and Islam is one of the religion which he studied.

I did not wrote all this in his defense because I am his fan. I only read one of his book ‘No God but God’, which I find interesting to read. But as I am a Muslim, so 90% of it were already known, but it surely an informative book for a non-Muslim.

I wrote it because of my conscience and my believe that we should be fair in our analysis. Fairness does not belong to only Muslim, all human have the right to be treated fairly regardless of his or her belief.

 

Notes:

1. The story on Reza Aslan and Aghori sect can be found from Daily Mail.  http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-4296404/CNN-presenter-Reza-Aslan-eats-HUMAN-BRAIN.html
2. Islam as the 2nd largest religion can be found from Pew’s research http://www.pewforum.org/2012/12/18/global-religious-landscape-exec/
3. Merriam-webster’s definition on scholar. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/scholar
4. Reza Aslan against Bill Maher can be watched at The Young Turk’s channel. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ibKWVTFSak
5. Photo taken from https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/3042323/tv-presenter-eats-human-brain-during-filming-of-documentary-before-angry-cannibal-throws-own-poo-at-him/