Children of Dust_ A Memoir of Pakistan - Ali Eteraz [118]
“Set my alarm?”
He nodded. We sipped our tea in silence. I studied the architecture all around and I asked Ziad how he felt about the construction.
Sore subject. He complained at length about how long the nearby towers had been under construction and how the first and second waves of construction workers had given way to a recently arrived third—fresh—batch. “They never let them stay too long,” he said bitterly.
As the sun rose higher and we started to become sweaty, Ziad finally prodded me to talk openly with him. I began by apologizing for my behavior in the car.
“I understand,” he said.
“I was just trying to sound cool. I really don’t believe that I’m deserving of even an iota of respect. The one thing that I’m good at—rhetoric, basically—doesn’t merit much attention.”
“You’re a good organizer, it seems,” Ziad said. “You can bring different types of people together.”
“All I’ve done so far for Islamic reform is to act as a sort of cheerleader. I jump up and down with the colors of the movement emblazoned across my chest, and because I’m able to rabble-rouse and instigate, a few people start paying attention.”
“If you’re a cheerleader, I hope you shave your legs,” Ziad said. “Because judging by your chest—”
“Very funny. All I’m saying is that I want to make a solid contribution. Something that’s more tangible than words and Web sites and letter-writing campaigns. Something longer-lasting. Something that Muslims can touch and feel. And that’s why I came to the Middle East.”
“Why the need to be here?”
“It’s the heart of Islam,” I said. “The Arabs, as a whole, are considered Islam’s elite.”
“You know that most of the Muslims in the world—nearly 80 percent—are not Arab.”
“I know that,” I said. “But Arabs today are a symbol. They represent Islam in most people’s eyes. And symbols are very important. Back when the Abbassid Caliphate was sacked in 1258 by the Mongols, the symbols associated with Islamic leadership—specifically, the mantle and sword of the Prophet—were moved to Cairo under the guardianship of the Mamluks, and thus it was they who became the presumptive leaders of Islam. Just because of the symbols. Today the caliphate is long gone—”
“Good riddance!”
“—but the symbol of Islam is now the Ka’ba, and as you’re well aware, it’s the Arabs who guard it. So if there’s going to be anything that will sway Muslims in the rest of the world, it’s going to have to be stamped by the Arabs—whether I as an American Muslim, or my friends in Pakistan, or Muslims in Indonesia like it or not.”
“Didn’t you write an essay arguing that Mecca and Medina should be made into independent protectorates like the Vatican? What was it called?”
“Mecca Is Not a Monopoly.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “I read it.”
“In an ideal world, perhaps,” I replied. “But to accomplish that now there would have to be far too much bloodshed. We need less of that. I’m not sure that I ascribe to that position anymore. The goal has to be to work with Arabs, not against them. This is the only hope for Islamic reform.”
“So that’s why you had to be here?” Ziad asked, looking thoughtful as he poured another round of tea into our cups. Then, handing me a full cup, he said, “I’m about to burst your bubble.”
“Sure. Have at it.”
“No one here is going to listen to you,” he said with crushing finality.
“Why not?”
“You aren’t a shaykh and you aren’t a noble. On top of that, you’re a Pakistani-born American. To many Arabs that makes you dirty and an imperialist. This is what you are in their eyes, even if your intentions are pure as the driven snow—and I don’t doubt they are. This is all you can be to them. This is the rebuke you’ll run into the moment you go into a madrassa or a mosque and try to get some support around here.”
“I know what you’re saying. Hell, I’m told I have no authority even among the Muslims in America—but I still persist.”
I didn’t mention that my persistence had already led to one monumental crash.
“I was only trying to give you a reality check,” Ziad said. “I’m not a naysayer. I may not be a reformist, but I do want to help you.