Re: Hassan's Autobiography
Reply #61 - September 29, 2010, 08:10 PM
OK this is what I found - but it is not polished - I think it should be Chapter 5 (and so will shift all the others on one.)
Khalid
I met Khalid at the ‘East Finchley Da’wa Society’. He had recently arrived from Morocco and wasn’t practising then. In fact he came along to meetings only because his flatmate dragged him. He was about nineteen, tall and slim, with curly black hair and a handsome, clean shaven, jovial face. The words “One Love” were printed on his T-shirt that hung loosely over his jeans. He didn’t say much during the meeting and appeared uneasy. When the discussion was finished I went over to introduce myself. He came from a middle class family from Casablanca and had been in England for only a few months, but already spoke English fairly well.
“I’m studying to be a carpenter.”
“How are you enjoying life in England?”
“Good. Very good! But I miss Moroccan food.”
“There are some Moroccan restaurants in Ladbroke Grove. I’ll take you there if you’re free sometime?”
Over the following weeks we got to know each other well and found we shared a passion for football and good food. He was a typical distracted youth, interested in the glitter and dazzle of London’s West End, and would spend a small fortune on video games at Piccadilly’s Trocadero. I liked him because of his unsophisticated and earthy nature; he had an endearing naivety and vulnerability about him. He told me of his ambitions to marry and settle down in the UK and made it clear that he would like to marry an English girl.
“We all worship the same God, don’t we?” he said.
Although he wasn’t very religious at first and didn’t always perform the five daily prayers, he enjoyed the social interaction that the Da’wa Society meetings offered and began to attend regularly, joining us on day trips and Sunday football. Before attending the Da’wa Society and getting to know other Muslims, he had spent most of his time with his non-Muslim friends, but the more he got to know other Muslims, the less time he spent with them. There were two other Moroccans at our meetings, Hisham, a well educated, fun-loving young man also from Casablanca, and Rashid, a short, stocky Berber with piercing dark eyes that made him look very dashing. As is often the case with ethnic groups, Moroccans tended to gravitate towards each other. They have a very strong bond with their own community and culture. Hisham and Rashid, who had both lived in London for some time, were able to introduce Khalid to other Moroccans from the Ladbroke Grove area.
Khalid started becoming more religious and began praying, taking part in discussions and volunteering to read passages from the Qur’an in Arabic. After Abu Zubayr’s visit’s to the Da’wa meetings and his association with Moroccan Salafis from Ladbroke Grove, there was a noticeable change in Khalid’s attitude. For reasons I have not yet fathomed, the attraction of Salafi Islam seems to be particularly strong amongst young North Africans and the more Khalid mixed with other Moroccans in West London, the more he adopted this creed. From then on the change in his behaviour was alarmingly quick. He attended Da’wa meetings less frequently, preferring instead a Salafi circle in Parsons Green. It was there that he was introduced to Nafeesa, a Salafi sister from Morocco and they were married a short time later. The last time Khalid attended the Da’wa Society it was clear he was now completely imbued with the Salafi views.
“Allah has forbidden the believers to take the Kuffar as friends. Allah says,”
“Oh you who believe! Do not take Jews and Christians as friends; they are friends of one another. And if any of you do, then surely, he is one of them!”
He brought a little booklet with him and every now and again would scan its pages.
“Allah tells us that taking unbelievers as friends incurs His wrath and eternal punishment”
“You see many of them taking the unbelievers as friends. Evil indeed is that which their own selves have sent forward before them. For that (reason) Allah’s Wrath fell upon them, and in torment they will abide.”
“This is about those fighting the Prophet at the time,” I said. “It doesn’t mean all non-Muslims. How can we live in a non-Muslim country and not have non-Muslim friends?”
“The statement of Allah is general and means all the unbelievers,” replied Khalid. “The only exception is in times of necessity or fear, so that we can protect ourselves from their evil. Allah said,”
“Let not the believers take the disbelievers as friends… except if you indeed fear a danger from them”
“Are you saying the Qur’an condones hypocrisy? That it’s OK to ‘pretend’ to be friends with a non-Muslim if it serves your purpose?”
“It is a strategy of war!”
“What war?”
“The war between the believers and the unbelievers!”
“But there is no war. These verses are talking about the war between the Prophet and the Meccans 1400 years ago! They are not referring to the situation today!”
“The Qur’an is for all time. The situation is no different today. There will remain a war between the believers and unbelievers until the end of time.” He paused to look down at his book again.
“Muslims are obliged to hate the enemies of Allah and to disavow them, because this is the way of the Messengers and their followers. Allah says’”:
“Indeed there has been an excellent example for you in Ibrahim and those with him, when they said to their people: ‘Verily, we are free from you and whatever you worship besides Allah, we have rejected you, and there has started between us and you, hostility and hatred for ever until you believe in Allah alone’”
Khalid’s words met with an uncomfortable silence at the Da’wa Society. No one quite knew how to argue the case for the opposition. That’s the problem for those inclined to a moderate and inclusive view of Islam. They rely on human intuition and reason, rather than quotes from Qur’an. It’s easy for the literalists to shoot down such responses with their armoury of scriptural evidence. For the literalist, the only valid argument is one that comes verbatim from the Qur’an or the Prophet Muhammad. Opinions based on human feelings or reason is irrelevant. At one point I challenged Khalid saying, “I think…”
He interrupted me and told me sternly, “It doesn’t matter what you think, the only thing that matters is your Daleel.” (Evidence from Qur’an and Sunnah).
The difference in opinion created a gulf between Khalid and the rest of us and we didn’t see him at the Da’wa Society after that.
Khalid’s wife Nafeesa, however, had become good friends with my wife Amina and was a regular visitor to our home. It was during one of these visits that she told Amina that Khalid was no longer attending the circle in Parsons Green, but had begun to follow a Jordanian Sheikh by the name of Abu Hammam who was giving sermons in the Golborne Road Mosque. She said Khalid’s views had become more extreme and she was concerned about him. When I drove Nafeesa back to their flat in Camden that afternoon, Khalid suddenly appeared at the balcony.
“Hassan, come my brother! I would like to speak to you!”
His tone alarmed me. As the lift reached the 4th floor and the doors opened, Khalid immediately embraced me, blocking and elderly English couple in the lift from getting out.
“My dear brother, come!” He grabbed my hand and linked arms with me and strode along the concrete corridor in his Jilbab. As he stepped into the flat he removed his leather slippers and held his palms up, saying a little prayer. He then sat me down beside him and poured some Moroccan mint tea. His beard was neatly combed with a touch of Henna, and he had a Miswak in his top pocket which he would take out and use to occasionally scrub his teeth.
“Hassan, you know about Al-Walaa’ wal-Baraa?”
“Yes.”
It means allegiance to God and disassociation from disbelief, or ‘To Love or Hate for the sake of Allah’ as the Salafis prefer to translate it.
“We are Muslims, brother Hassan, we must stick together.”
“Hold tight to the rope of Allah all together and do not be divided!”
“This is an order from Allah to come together as one body. Muslims have ignored this and divided into groups and sects. The reason is because we don’t have a leader as Allah has commanded us.”
Despite his attempts to appear relaxed and welcoming, I detected agitation in his voice and a sense that he was driven by some unconscious force.
“But now the righteous Muslims have answered the call of Allah and pledged their Bay’ah (oath of allegiance) to Amir ul Mu’mineen (Leader of all Muslims), Sheikh Abu Abdullah Muhammad Al Rifaee.”
This was the Sheikh that Nafeesa told Amina about earlier.
“Hassan, it is compulsory to pledge allegiance to an Imam once he has been properly appointed. I invite you to join the Jama’at ul Muslimeen (the main body of Muslims) and give your allegiance to the Amir ul-Mu’mineen. I invite you to pledge your life and possessions to Allah and hold fast to the righteous Muslims. I invite you to stand against the unbelievers, even if they are your own family. The only bond is to Allah and His messenger.”
“Who is this man, Khalid? What right does he have to call himself Amir ul-Mu’mineen?”
“Come with me, Hassan. Listen to him for yourself. You will understand everything.”
I was curious to hear Abu Hammam and agreed to go with him the next day.
When I arrived at the mosque, Abu Hammam was already speaking. He sat cross legged at the head of a small congregation, largely made up of young Moroccans from the local area. They all wore the same white Jilbab and had thick black beards. Abu Hammam was also dressed in a white jilbab and white cap.
“Muslims have abandoned two essential duties, the first is unity. Allah, the Most Perfect, the Most High has ordered us to unite as one Ummah, one body. Allah warned us that if we disunited, we will be defeated and humiliated.
“Hold fast altogether to the rope of Allah and do not be divided.”
“Do not be like those who split-up and differed after the clear evidences came to them. For them is a tremendous punishment.”
“And do not differ, lest you lose courage and your strength departs.”
“The second duty we have abandoned is Jihad. We live in a time when Muslims are ashamed of Jihad. They try to change the meaning of the clear verses and hadith so they can please the enemies of Islam. Let every Muslim know that Jihad is the pinnacle of Islam. It is the greatest act a believer can perform. Allah the Most High, the Most Glorified said,”
“Jihad is ordained for you though you dislike it, and it may be that you dislike a thing which is good for you and that you like a thing which is bad for you. Allah knows but you do not know”
“And fight them until there is no more Fitnah and the religion is for Allah Alone!”
Allah has ordered us to fight the unbelievers, even though we may not like to do so and even though we make excuses. The Prophet himself made it very clear why he had been sent. He had been sent to fight Jihad to spread the word of Allah. He (peace and blessings be upon him) said;
“I have been commanded to fight the people until they bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah.”
He warned us of the consequences of leaving Jihad for the comforts of this world:
“When you enter into business transactions, hold the tails of oxen, are content with farming, and give up Jihad, Allah will cause humiliation to prevail over you, and will not withdraw it until you return to your commitment to Islam.”
“Why are we humiliated? Why are we weak? Why are we defeated? My brothers the answer is clear. Now is not the time for any more talking. Now is the time for action. Now is the time for sacrifice.”
A week or so later I saw Khalid standing on a crate outside Regents Park Mosque shouting, “Aawinoo Ikwanikum Al-Mujahideeeeeeen feee sabeeelilah Ya Ikhwaaan!” (“Aid your brothers fighting in the path of God Oh Brothers!”)
He held a collection bucket out towards worshippers coming in and out of the Mosque, but there was little money in it as most worshippers veered clear of him. His voice was distorted and hoarse. I tried to say Salams to him but he just looked right through me and continued shouting. I felt sorry for him and tried to calm him down, but as I approached him, his foot slipped off the box, and he fell to the floor, writhing around, trying to get up, but was unable to co-ordinate his limbs properly. I knelt down beside him to stop him hitting his head against the concrete floor – I thought he was having an epileptic fit.
“Khalid, just relax! Just keep still.”
He tried to say something, but every time he opened his mouth his tongue would protrude, and he ended up making a spluttering sound. A small crowd gathered around us.
“Shall I phone an ambulance?” said one man.
Khalid began shaking violently.
“It’s OK, Khalid,” I said, placing my hand under his head so it didn’t bang against the concrete, “I’m going to take you home.”
With the help of a couple of onlookers I carried him to my car, and Amina and I drove him back to his flat where Nafeesa was waiting. We tried in vain to calm him.
“What’s the number of your doctor, Nafeesa?” I said, picking up the phone.
“No! No,” said Nafeesa, “Let me phone the Sheikh first.”
After a short while Abu Hammam turned up with a couple of brothers. They ordered us all out of the room and shut the door. We waited for a while, but after several unsuccessful attempts to get back in, Amina and I returned home. We heard later that after a long sleep he had fully recovered.
A few days later, Nafeesa turned up in a taxi, her voice trembling. Khalid was trying to force her and their son to go with him to Afghanistan. They stayed the day at our house and, after phoning the police, were escorted back to her flat. She got a court order preventing Khalid from coming near them or their flat. I didn’t hear from either Nafeesa or Khalid for some time; then out of the blue Khalid phoned me and asked me to meet him at Golborne Road Mosque where he was now staying.
The Mosque was situated at one end of the trendy Portobello Market, famous for its antiques and designer fashions. When I got there the crowds were out in force – a bustling mix of cultures, mingling happily amongst the market stalls and cafes. But as I stepped through the door and down the dark wooden staircase, the colours disappeared. Here it was dark, cool and silent. A naked bulb hung from a hole in the ceiling, and gaps in the plaster-board exposed pipes behind. I descended to the basement where prayers were held. There were three young men sitting in a far corner. I thought I’d met them before, but it was difficult to tell as they looked so similar – fist-length black beards, white caps, white jilbab and loose cotton trousers that reached only as far as the shin.
Khalid was standing expectantly at the foot of the stairs and immediately handed me a piece of paper.
Al-Bayan Al-Awwal (The First Declaration)
I, the Leader of the Believers, order Muslims to denounce all governments and ungodly ways of life. It is required of all Muslims to cease supporting, and working for Al-Taghoot (those who run by the order of the created rather than the Creator). They are required to boycott their offices, courts, police and armies. Whosoever does not boycott them after this announcement hereby becomes an outlaw condemned to death - any Muslim is hereby ordered to kill such persons…
I wanted to stop, but Khalid looked more agitated than I had ever seen him. I was worried I would tip him over the edge if I spoke and, to be honest, more than a little concerned about my own well-being.
I hereby order all Muslims to join "The Righteous Muslims”… to start arming and preparing for Jihaad in the path of Allah under my flag… I further order those who cannot join us… to fight in the path of Allah in whatever way he can and by whatever means… and in accordance with the order of Allah;
"O you who believe fight the unbelievers around you"
Whosoever stands in the way… kill him whoever he may be!
I knew Khalid was looking for my approval. He wanted me to join him. There was still a part of him that was uncertain, though he would never admit it.
“This doesn’t seem right, Khalid.” I chose my words carefully.
“Hassan, it’s a simple choice between Haqq (Truth) and Baatil! (Falsehood), Islam or Kufr (Disbelief)! Either you’re with us or against us!”
I’ve heard these words many times since. It’s a thinly disguised form of intimidation.
“I’ll take it home with me Khalid, so I can read it over again carefully.”
He looked skywards and clenched his fists.
“Allahumma-ush-hud anni ballaght!” (“Oh Allah, bear witness I have delivered the message!)
“Allahumma-ush-hud anni ballaght!” (“Oh Allah, bear witness I have delivered the message!)
“Allahumma-ush-hud anni ballaght!” (“Oh Allah, bear witness I have delivered the message!)
He shouted these words shaking violently with emotion. He seemed to be possessed and I had little doubt he would cut my throat right there and then if he thought I was against him. That was the last time I saw Khalid, days later he left to fight Jihad in Afghanistan. I heard from one couple who fled Abu Hammam’s group that Khalid was cut to pieces in the civil war that raged after the Russians left. Both Khalid’s sons were in my class at Islamia School at different times; they knew nothing of what happened to their father. I even met Khalid’s parents during a trip to Morocco with my wife and children. We were invited to their house for dinner. They were an average middle class Moroccan family, not particularly religious.
“Do you know where Khalid is, Hassan? Do you know when he’ll be coming back home?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
Topic: Hassan's Autobiography