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Publié par | Archway Publishing |
Date de parution | 13 septembre 2022 |
Nombre de lectures | 0 |
EAN13 | 9781665729192 |
Langue | English |
Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.
Extrait
You Are Both Wrong!
Western Media and Islamic Terrorist
FARID ADEL
Copyright © 2022 Farid Adel.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® NIV® Copyright © 1973 1978 1984 2011 by Biblica, Inc. TM. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
ISBN: 978-1-6657-2920-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-2919-2 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022916042
Archway Publishing rev. date: 09/13/2022
CONTENTS
Foreword
Introduction
1 Cause
2 Crimes Against Humanity
3 Public Perception
4 Those Who Love Death
5 Sharia
6 Can Man Judge God?
7 Jihad
Conclusion
Author’s Other Publications
FOREWORD
WITH LIGHTNING SPEED AND RELENTLESS STREAMS OF REPETITIVE and unevaluated messages, the Internet and all forms of electronic media have radically altered our perception of the world we live in and which all must share.
Less than half a century ago the Western world and the world of Islam co-existed. Islam was among the world’s great and firmly established religions. Much like the other great religions it was also instrumental in advancing the cause of civilization in areas where its message took hold.
Today, perceptions of Islam in the West have changed. Jihad, terrorism, grisly acts of televised violence, threats of destruction and a general animosity punctuate the messages we receive about Islam, and Muslims. What happened?
Author Farid Adel has made it a years-long endeavor to discover the causes of this rapid shift in perception and the adoption of radical and warlike actions against humanity in the name of religion. He demonstrates analytically how they relate to the actual message of Islam as written in the Quran. The truth, once revealed is simple and easy to understand. It runs parallel to similar phenomena occurring elsewhere and in other arenas of life — political, social, and religious, by which we have all been influenced.
This book is one of enlightenment and hope. It seeks to build a bridge across a chasm that was deliberately and artificially created between Islam and the rest of the world. It answers the questions so many have raised about what happened. The answers are refreshing and will go a long way in restoring people’s faith in basic humanity.
Hans Matthes
Editor
INTRODUCTION
ONCE WHEN I WAS A LITTLE OVER TWO YEARS OLD, MY MOTHER, A young woman, and a city dweller, dressed me in short pants, a polo shirt, white socks, and brand-new shoes. She was so proud seeing her firstborn son playing and walking around her walled courtyard. When I started walking, feeling the softness and the ghish-ghish sound of my new shoes, I was prompted to continue walking out the door to discover the world outside the wall. Shortly, I found myself on the streets of the Old Kabul. The neighborhood where I grew-up was called Baghi Ali Mardan (named after Ali Mardan who had been born in Kabul. He was the very same Ali Mardan who designed and built Taj Mahal Garden, in Agra, India, four centuries earlier). As I continued walking, passers-by noticed me and that I had been wandering around with no adult supervision, let alone in the company of other children. Several shop customers and neighbors noticed me and started discussing my situation. A shopkeeper, named Husain, well known in the neighborhood, took on the responsibility of assisting me. This was something he was known to do for anyone in the neighborhood whenever help was needed, like a self-appointed mayor of the area.
This quality of kindness and virtue were woven into the fabric of communities throughout Kabul and elsewhere in Afghanistan. As his shop was just a few yards away, Husain walked over and brought me to the front of his shop and sat me in a corner of his store. He handed me candy and dry nuts to keep me occupied while he sent his young son to inform the neighbors about a found child who was presumed missing.
All the while, my mother kept busy doing her daily chores and housework. As was the norm at the time, every section of Kabul city was a sort of large family and close-knit community. Everyone knew everyone else. The news of my wanderings quickly reached my mother. And for my mother and I, it all ended very well.
This type of friendly care and responsibility for others was common in Kabul and all around that part of the world. During my early years, in my primary education and eventually high school, we rarely heard about serious crimes. Murders, rapes, attacks, or thefts were not at all commonplace. Everyone was able to live their lives in total peace and harmony. The youngsters always respected the elders, even if an elder was a stranger. I remember well my grandfather, Muhammad Nabi. He was an officer in the Afghan military. Every evening, when he came home and our dinner was about to be served — just before that moment — it was his custom to walk outside the house onto the street and look for someone passing by whom he would invite for dinner; friend or stranger, it did not matter. One time I asked him about that. “Afghan hospitality dictates this to us: sharing is the best sign of charity,” he replied enthusiastically.
There are many examples of this sense of community and safety I experienced in my youth. In the summers, due to the intense heat and the lack of air conditioning, people would bring cots outside and sleep peacefully all night without fear of harassment. During those hot summer nights, as I recall, sleeping on our roof was one of my most precious memories. Lying in cozy beds, we all slept under the beautiful and starlit sky. On our backs, staring up, I recall the questions and curiosities about stars, and the creations of the universe. It was extraordinarily spectacular to see the details of the Milky Way. Those were simple but priceless memories. Moreover, security was never in question. People everywhere, whether from the city or countryside seldom bothered to lock their doors. No one felt threatened or afraid. It was like one happy community, and to me, it seemed the norm very much.
Almost every other week there was a wedding or some other big celebration. When they happened, people in the surrounding neighborhood were simply invited by word of mouth. There were no official wedding invitations or other such formalities. A few people, for example, on their way to the wedding, might encounter someone they knew along the way. After the normal chit chat, they were asked where they were going. The response was “to the wedding of so and so”. They would then invite the friend to accompany them to the wedding and even insist, as necessary, to get them to join in the celebration. The wedding hosts would never question who these guests were but greeted them all warmly in the typical way of Afghan hospitality.
We used to travel anywhere to any parts of our country without the slightest difficulty or harassment by the authorities, or criminals. There was little evidence of the presence of any criminals. Kabul was a beautiful city with modern buildings and a peaceful environment. There were theaters, cinemas, shopping centers, parks, and museums. The wealthy and well to do residents of Kabul could afford to have homes in both Jalalabad for winter vacation, and in Paghman (in the northern mountains near Kabul) for summer vacation. All forms of education were free and students who enrolled in higher education were actually paid a monthly stipend by the government just to continue his or her education.
One other important factor of life in Kabul was that all health care was provided by the government, and we felt that it was something normal. There were no state or federal income taxes. Merchandise, food, and other necessities were tax free. Only big businesses were subject to paying government taxes.
This next fact of life in Kabul, quite unbelievable to many, was nevertheless true: there was never a single incident of rape, child abduction, or children disappearing from their homes. I had never heard of bank robbery, extortion, kidnapping, or hostage taking, let alone beheadings. People of differing faiths freely practiced their religious beliefs. We had Hindus, Jews, Pashtuns, and a variety of ethnicities all around us. There were Shias as a minority Muslims sect, but we never considered that they were anything but Afghan citizens. No one was a stranger; all minorities were Afghan citizens. The artists were busy performing, students were busy with studies. Travel was common, businessmen were conducting business and so it was. For the life of me, I do not know what happened to those happy times! Who is responsible — and why?
As a student, back in early 1974, when I came to this great country, the United States of America, I immediately enrolled at the University of Kansas in Lawrence. After several years there, I continued my studies at the University of New Mexico and eventually graduated from the U