Comment: Siddiqui is describing growing up in a religious pathocracy: the inescapable social pressures to conform to anti-human ideals, the internal contradictions that result when this becomes impossible for the non-psychopathic majority, the need to develop 'acting' skills to pretend to conform to the unrealistic and pathological ideal. But even though he is describing an Islamic pathocracy, the dynamics apply to every kind of pathocracy: whether Christian, atheist, capitalist or communist.
I have been meaning to write about what it means to grow up in the Saudi Arabian Wahhabi model, what has held me back thus far is more about "Where do I begin?"
The beast is complex, pathological and has many facets to its manifestation in various areas of your life. It simply permeates every little part of your existence either willingly, subconsciously or via the guilt complex that it feeds on.
My intention here is not to proselytize nor is it to prescribe a remedy. Instead it is to share my experience with you.
I was born in the heydays of the oil boom in Saudi Arabia to expatriate parents from my native Pakistan. We lived happy - somewhat dysfunctional - lives as most would assume. We did better than our extended family and made sure we shared with those back home. My parents were average Sunni Muslims who observed prayers whenever they remembered - with the exception of Friday prayers that most Muslims religiously observe - and tried to generally stick to the 'norms' of the faith but nothing too strictly.
Life was good and we had plenty of good fortune that many did not have. My parents wanted us to study in English schools and paid handsomely for that 'privilege' in Saudi Arabia. At age 3 I was put on the conveyor belt of what we call the expatriate English educational system in Saudi Arabia. The school was owned and run by a Saudi prince and had relatively good standing in the community at the time. Our English teachers were predominantly British & Irish with a sprinkle of Americans and then a dominance of South Africans in the later years of schooling. An exception to this rule was of course the teachers who taught us Arabic, Quran and Islamic Studies; mostly Egyptians and members of other Arab states.
I do not remember religion really playing a big role in my early life other than observing prayers when my father took me for prayers or when it was Ramadan and we fasted. As children we were eager to fast and show that we were adults, win school competitions by memorizing the Quran and other such "religious" observance. It was less dogma and more mimicking and following what others were doing in the community in general. Social policing is a common activity in Muslim communities; your devotion to God is under constant check and invasion of your privacy a trivial matter.
The religious drive creeps in slowly, first it is keeping up image with the good neighbours and then it is trying to outdo them. Of course, all of this in the name of securing your heaven; for example if you memorize the Quran then your parents get a home in heaven. Prayers became more regular as we grew older and the school system pumped out more things to adhere to.
We had two classical Arabic classes and a Quran class per day. We had to memorize verses, hadith (Prophets sayings) and other Islamic theology. We also had a Quran teacher come at home to teach us how to recite the Quran. This is a common thing to do in the Muslim world and most families do this irrespective of their own religiousness.
What most people do not understand is that in a society like Saudi Arabia (or a predominantly Islamic community) it is quite normal to pray regularly, read the Quran, follow Islamic teachings and think nothing of it. It is a habit almost and you are kind of blind to the effect it is creating in you on the inside. There is little else for adults to do other than be pious. Pretty soon my mother also joined a Quran school to be more in tune with what she saw as her duty as a good Muslim. In Saudi Arabia, women have little option to do anything but basically be more religious. One could argue that men too have ultimately that as the only unrestricted avenue of 'personal development'. Religion trumps everything.
And everything changed when my mother was introduced to the teachings of Abu A'la Maududi of the Pakistani Jamaat-e-Islami movement. To illustrate how close he was to the Wahhabi cause, one only has to note that his was the 2nd (in absence) funeral prayer carried out in the Kaaba (that black cube in Mecca) in history.
So after one summer break, we returned from Pakistan with literally a whole library of books. I did not see much of my mother that year, she was busy reading. We did more takeaways that year than in any recent memory and I was happy with all the fried chicken I was getting.
Life was still good as it was a period of what I can recall as repentance for all the bad behaviour we were supposedly engaging in. My parents started talking about how un-Islamic society had become and how Dawaa (preaching) is a key pillar of the faith. Of course, that preaching had to start somewhere and usually that ends up being your home. All of a sudden we started having segregated dinner parties and our family friends shrugged it off as just us being pious good Muslims. Soon enough they too were mimicking the behaviour or simply not thinking much of it.
It is interesting to note that this religious - state encouraged & driven - fervour coincided with the NATO destruction of Yugoslavia and the wars in Chechnya. At the time I did not know any better but looking back I can connect the dots of how mass propaganda was used to manipulate millions to be sympathetic to the Jihadi cause.
I went to a segregated school, studied Quran daily (memorized a few dozen chapters) and had no female contact. As such the only opportunity to talk to a girl was during family dinners. I was reaching puberty and when I did my privilege pass was taken away. I was devastated. I had one crush and she too was now off limits.
Teenage rebellion had begun but I did not see it as a rebellion against the religion. There is no avenue for questioning authority and doing so always lands you in trouble. The rebellion was more immature on the grounds of "I want to do what I want" not realizing that the fire ignited was innate to the human spirit's desire to be free.
I was never really a good Muslim because I just never felt that connection. I really tried but it never happened for me. The bar was always being set higher and you could never be perfect anyway, I thought to myself. After all, not even the prophet was perfect and even he prayed and cried for his own salvation. How do you come out on top of that ladder?
As I grew older more and more regulations came into being; praying was very important now, observing the correct rituals was paramount and devoting yourself to God was pureness unparalleled. There was a prayer for everything:
- i) For going to sleep
ii) For waking up in the morning
iii) For exiting your home
iv) For going to the toilet
v) For riding in your car
vi) Prior to taking a bite of your food - each bite
... I can go on but you get the picture
On the surface you would think that I was a very average teenager rejecting parental wishes, and I was. However, it is the series of dominating religious directives that get you one way or the other. While I was not very Islamic I did believe in the word of God as I saw it. And the immense feeling of guilt paralysed me. This guilt is a crucial part of the Wahhabi ideology's feeding ground. You are always unworthy, a slave (you are made to say it over and over again), a miscreant, a low life who would be lucky to bask in the glory of serving "true" Islam.
I took it upon myself to preach about music being haram (unlawful), calling friends to prayers and lecturing them on being a good Muslim. When it came to praying I was first in line, got up at dawn and really strived to be a good Muslim. This behaviour was not constant and would eventually lapse back to me being a regular kid. However, one thing that is often misunderstood is that just because a Muslim does not observe religious duties does not at all mean that the belief in those duties is any less.
Comment: Same goes for pretty much every religion. When it's the air you breathe, it's pretty much impossible to escape.
The guilt that I carried for not being a good enough Muslim was constant and actively nourished by my environment. By the time I was in my teens we had extra sessions at home where we read Hadith (the prophet's sayings) in a circle every night. This was in addition to the daily Quran lessons at school and home. On Wednesday evenings (equivalent of Friday night as Thursday & Friday were weekends) my dad and I went to English Quran sessions held by faculty members of universities and doctors. Many people showed up for this event as we got great food at the end, you checked off something holy and the depth of the conversation was a little more as they read out Tafsirs of the Quran. Tafsir is more than the translation and includes the associated context or hadith or event at the time of the verses being revealed and/or other meanings that could be derived. Of course this could be a great source of knowledge - the golden age of philosophy in Islam - if done right but if done wrong it just further entrenches the human mind in religious dogma. We, being in Saudi, got the latter experience.
Our Quran teacher was especially pleasant with his contempt for our middle class "riches" such as having a TV aka "Satan Box". He would also lecture us how we were filthy westerners who sat on the toilet seat like dogs instead of using a hole in the ground eastern style toilet. This upset him greatly for some reason, he made us do ablutions before we sat down for the Quran class while he picked his nose.
Music was strictly forbidden - we were told God would pour molten lead into our ears on judgement day - but TV was ok as long as it was not a woman exposing herself, the state censorship bureau diligently worked day and night to save us teenagers from seeing forbidden flesh. Yes, it was a very important function of the state. American movies and sitcoms were broadcasted round the clock on the Aramco TV channel (the oil giant had a TV channel back then). It was my favourite TV channel.
Growing up in the Kingdom is like a series of controversies out of thin air, contradictions at every turn and a thoroughly frustrating experience of life; a very acute case of cognitive dissonance run amok. We liked Hollywood movies and action blockbusters, dreamed of living it up in America, enjoyed the music (in secret) but hated the country too. When the Gulf war took place in the 90s, we saw ourselves chanting in support of Saddam while he rained down scud missiles causing our school to close down. America was our dream and enemy at the same time.
Children were traumatised and politicised early on with regular trips to mosques, sermons and the constant pro-jihadist point of view. The US-funded terrorists in Bosnia were portrayed as heroes, Chechnyan Wahhabi psychopaths were brave warriors and people donated religiously to the cause of Islam. It was fever pitch hysteria during those days.
You would be standing at 2am praying the special night prayers during the holy month of Ramadan and trying to squeeze out a tear. Everyone was weeping for the Muslims of Bosnia - unknowing that it was a NATO-orchestrated war to breakup Yugoslavia - and the mosque carpet was damp everywhere. I never managed to squeeze a tear genuinely but later mastered a technique of not blinking to trigger tears.
Thanks to the author of this article for the glimpse of life in Saudi Arabia growing up.
I grew up in the USA in the so-called Bible Belt area of the country. I spent 20 years in the Christian church and religion. Looking back now I realize just how indoctrinating and brainwashing religion can be. Christian, Islam or otherwise. Growing up in this area where I live, long before 9-11, there was no such thing as a Muslim mosque in my town that people who were raised up that way or preferred that religion could go to. Back in the 70's, 80's and on up into the 90's, having a Muslim mosque in our typical American town would have been unthinkable to most people. Myself included. But somehow, after 2001 in the wake of 9-11 with all the anti-Arabic feelings that some of the media helped inspire and propagate, we've had a Muslim mosque in our town now for at least 10 years now I would say. This was common in many towns across America. How this could be, I'm not quite sure. I, myself, didn't have any personal problems with the smaller number of people in our town who are of the Islam religion. I didn't know and still don't know any of them. But I had enough problems with the Christian religion and beliefs that I spent 20 years believing, let alone another religion. American cultural Christianity had left something of a bad taste in my mouth, so to speak. Although I am thankful it wasn't as oppressive, restrictive, ritualistic and whatever for me as the above article description of Islam was for the author. Makes me glad for the amount of freedom of religion, or freedom from religion, that we can and do have here in America.
I know enough about the Protestant sects of the Christian religion. I know what it was like for me, can look back now and see what the beliefs I used to have while in it did either for me or to me. I can't say too much about Catholicism. I've been to Catholic churches every now and then in my life because of associations with other people who were Catholic that I know. And being a non-Catholic, I of course believed that the Catholics were off-base and wrong about many things. I thought they were too ritualistic and ceremonial. And then Muslim mosques come about here in the USA...
From what was said in the above article, it makes me so glad I didn't grow up in Saudi Arabia...especially as a woman. I imagine that most women over there have a harder time with the extremely patriarchal society and religion. It seems that women in a society and religion like that need to develop and have a certain fortitude that most men there don't have or need in order to survive.
Anyway, I thought the article was interesting because it described such a contrast to how life was here in the USA for me growing up and being in the Christian religion.