Hmmm mbak Salma, how do you think about this statement?: "Racism was an integral part of Saudi society. My students often used the word "nigger" to describe black people. Even dark-skinned Arabs were considered inferior to their lighter-skinned cousins. I was living in the world's most avowedly Muslim country, yet I found it anything but. I was appalled by the imposition of Wahhabism in the public realm, something I had implicitly sought as an Islamist...."
Salam terkejut Danardono --- In [email protected], Nugroho Dewanto <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/books/book_ extracts/article1685726.ece > > > April 21, 2007 > How a British jihadi saw the light > Ed Hussain, once a proponent of radical Islam in London, tells how his time > as a teacher in Saudi Arabia led him to turn against extremism > > During our first two months in Jeddah, Faye and I relished our new and > luxurious lifestyle: a shiny jeep, two swimming pools, domestic help, and a > tax-free salary. The luxury of living in a modern city with a developed > infrastructure cocooned me from the frightful reality of life in Saudi Arabia. > My goatee beard and good Arabic ensured that I could pass for an Arab. > > But looking like a young Saudi was not enough: I had to act Saudi, be > Saudi. And here I failed. > My first clash with Saudi culture came when, being driven around in a > bulletproof jeep, I saw African women in black abayas tending to the > rubbish bins outside restaurants, residences and other busy places. > > "Why are there so many black cleaners on the streets?" I asked the driver. > The driver laughed. "They're not cleaners. They are scavengers; women who > collect cardboard from all across Jeddah and then sell it. They also > collect bottles, drink cans, bags." > "You don't find it objectionable that poor immigrant women work in such > undignified and unhygienic conditions on the streets?" > "Believe me, there are worse jobs women can do." > > Though it grieves me to admit it, the driver was right. In Saudi Arabia > women indeed did do worse jobs. Many of the African women lived in an area > of Jeddah known as Karantina, a slum full of poverty, prostitution and > disease. > > A visit to Karantina, a perversion of the term "quarantine", was one of the > worst of my life. Thousands of people who had been living in Saudi Arabia > for decades, but without passports, had been deemed "illegal" by the > government and, quite literally, abandoned under a flyover. > > A non-Saudi black student I had met at the British Council accompanied me. > "Last week a woman gave birth here," he said, pointing to a ramshackle > cardboard shanty. Disturbed, I now realised that the materials I had seen > those women carrying were not always for sale but for shelter. > I had never expected to see such naked poverty in Saudi Arabia. > > At that moment it dawned on me that Britain, my home, had given refuge to > thousands of black Africans from Somalia and Sudan: I had seen them in > their droves in Whitechapel. They prayed, had their own mosques, were free > and were given government housing. > > Many Muslims enjoyed a better lifestyle in non-Muslim Britain than they did > in Muslim Saudi Arabia. At that moment I longed to be home again. > > All my talk of ummah seemed so juvenile now. It was only in the comfort of > Britain that Islamists could come out with such radical utopian slogans as > one government, one ever expanding country, for one Muslim nation. The > racist reality of the Arab psyche would never accept black and white people > as equal. > > Standing in Karantina that day, I reminisced and marvelled over what I > previously considered as wrong: mixed-race, mixed-religion marriages. The > students to whom I described life in modern multi-ethnic Britain could not > comprehend that such a world of freedom, away from "normal" Saudi racism, > could exist. > > Racism was an integral part of Saudi society. My students often used the > word "nigger" to describe black people. Even dark-skinned Arabs were > considered inferior to their lighter-skinned cousins. I was living in the > world's most avowedly Muslim country, yet I found it anything but. I was > appalled by the imposition of Wahhabism in the public realm, something I > had implicitly sought as an Islamist. > > Part of this local culture consisted of public institutions being > segregated and women banned from driving on the grounds that it would give > rise to "licentiousness". I was repeatedly astounded at the stares Faye got > from Saudi men and I from Saudi women. > > Faye was not immodest in her dress. Out of respect for local custom, she > wore the long black abaya and covered her hair in a black scarf. In all the > years I had known my wife, never had I seen her appear so dull. Yet on two > occasions she was accosted by passing Saudi youths from their cars. On > another occasion a man pulled up beside our car and offered her his phone > number. > In supermarkets I only had to be away from Faye for five minutes and Saudi > men would hiss or whisper obscenities as they walked past. When Faye > discussed her experiences with local women at the British Council they > said: "Welcome to Saudi Arabia." > > After a month in Jeddah I heard from an Asian taxi driver about a Filipino > worker who had brought his new bride to live with him in Jeddah. After > visiting the Balad shopping district the couple caught a taxi home. Some > way through their journey the Saudi driver complained that the car was not > working properly and perhaps the man could help push it. The passenger > obliged. Within seconds the Saudi driver had sped off with the man's wife > in his car and, months later, there was still no clue as to her whereabouts. > > We had heard stories of the abduction of women from taxis by sex- deprived > Saudi youths. At a Saudi friend's wedding at a luxurious hotel in Jeddah, > women dared not step out of their hotel rooms and walk to the banqueting > hall for fear of abduction by the bodyguards of a Saudi prince who also > happened to be staying there. > > Why had the veil and segregation not prevented such behaviour? My Saudi > acquaintances, many of them university graduates, argued strongly that, on > the contrary, it was the veil and other social norms that were responsible > for such widespread sexual frustration among Saudi youth. > > At work the British Council introduced free internet access for educational > purposes. Within days the students had downloaded the most obscene > pornography from sites banned in Saudi Arabia, but easily accessed via the > British Council's satellite connection. Segregation of the sexes, made > worse by the veil, had spawned a culture of pent-up sexual frustration that > expressed itself in the unhealthiest ways. > > Using Bluetooth technology on mobile phones, strangers sent pornographic > clips to one another. Many of the clips were recordings of homosexual acts > between Saudis and many featured young Saudis in orgies in Lebanon and > Egypt. The obsession with sex in Saudi Arabia had reached worrying levels: > rape and abuse of both sexes occurred frequently, some cases even reaching > the usually censored national press. > > My students told me about the day in March 2002 when the Muttawa [the > religious police] had forbidden firefighters in Mecca from entering a > blazing school building because the girls inside were not wearing veils. > Consequently 15 young women burnt to death, but Wahhabism held its head > high, claiming that God's law had been maintained. > > As a young Islamist, I organised events at college and in the local > community that were strictly segregated and I believed in it. Living in > Saudi Arabia, I could see the logical outcome of such segregation. > > In my Islamist days we relished stating that Aids and other sexually > transmitted diseases were the result of the moral degeneracy of the West. > Large numbers of Islamists in Britain hounded prostitutes in Brick Lane and > flippantly quoted divorce and abortion rates in Britain. The implication > was that Muslim morality was superior. Now, more than ever, I was convinced > that this too was Islamist propaganda, designed to undermine the West and > inject false confidence in Muslim minds. > I worried whether my observations were idiosyncratic, the musings of a > wandering mind. I discussed my troubles with other British Muslims working > at the British Council. Jamal, who was of a Wahhabi bent, fully agreed with > what I observed and went further. "Ed, my wife wore the veil back home in > Britain and even there she did not get as many stares as she gets when we > go out here." Another British Muslim had gone as far as tinting his car > windows black in order to prevent young Saudis gaping at his wife. > > The problems of Saudi Arabia were not limited to racism and sexual > frustration. > In contemporary Wahhabism there are two broad factions. One is publicly > supportive of the House of Saud, and will endorse any policy decision > reached by the Saudi government and provide scriptural justification for > it. The second believes that the House of Saud should be forcibly removed > and the Wahhabi clerics take charge. Osama Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda are from > the second school. > In Mecca, Medina and Jeddah I met young men with angry faces from Europe, > students at various Wahhabi seminaries. They reminded me of my extremist days. > > They were candid in discussing their frustrations with Saudi Arabia. The > country was not sufficiently Islamic; it had strayed from the teachings of > Wahhabism. They were firmly on the side of the monarchy and the clerics who > supported it. Soon they were to return to the West, well versed in Arabic, > fully indoctrinated by Wahhabism, to become imams in British mosques. > > By the summer of 2005 Faye and I had only eight weeks left in Saudi Arabia > before we would return home to London. Thursday, July 7, was the beginning > of the Saudi weekend. Faye and I were due to lunch with Sultan, a Saudi > banker who was financial adviser to four government ministers. I wanted to > gauge what he and his wife, Faye's student, thought about life inside the > land of their birth. > > On television that morning we watched the developing story of a power cut > on the London Underground. As the cameras focused on King's Cross, Edgware > Road, Aldgate and Russell Square, I looked on with a mixture of interest > and homesickness. Soon the power-cut story turned into shell- shocked > reportage of a series of terrorist bombings. > > My initial suspicion was that the perpetrators were Saudis. My experience > of them, their virulence towards my non-Muslim friends, their hate- filled > textbooks, made me think that Bin Laden's Saudi soldiers had now targeted > my home town. It never crossed my mind that the rhetoric of jihad > introduced to Britain by Hizb ut-Tahrir could have anything to do with such > horror. > > My sister avoided the suicide attack on Aldgate station by four minutes. On > the previous day London had won the Olympic bid. At the British Council we > had celebrated along with the nation that was now in mourning. > > The G8 summit in Scotland had also been derailed by events further south. > The summit, thanks largely to the combined efforts of Tony Blair and Bob > Geldof, had been set to tackle poverty in Africa. Now it was forced to > address Islamist terrorism; Arab grievances had hijacked the agenda again. > > The fact that hundreds of children die in Africa every day would be of no > relevance to a committed Islamist. In the extremist mind the plight of the > tiny Palestinian nation is more important than the deaths of millions of > black Africans. Let them die, they're not Muslims, would be the unspoken > line of argument. As an Islamist it was only the suffering of Muslims that > had moved me. Now human suffering mattered to me, regardless of religion. > > Faye and I were glued to the television for hours. Watching fellow > Londoners come out of Tube stations injured and mortified, but facing the > world with a defiant sense of dignity, made me feel proud to be British. > > We met Sultan and his wife at an Indian restaurant near the British > Council. Sultan was in his early thirties and his wife in her late > twenties. They had travelled widely and seemed much more liberal than most > Saudis I had met. Behind a makeshift partition, the restaurant surroundings > were considered private and his wife, to my amazement, removed her veil. > > We discussed our travels. > Sultan spoke fondly of his time in London, particularly his placement at > Coutts as a trainee banker. We then moved on to the subject uppermost in my > mind, the terrorist attacks on London. My host did not really seem to care. > He expressed no real sympathy or shock, despite speaking so warmly of his > time in London. > > "I suppose they will say Bin Laden was behind the attacks. They blamed us > for 9/11," he said. > Keen to take him up on his comment, I asked him: "Based on your education > in Saudi Arabian schools, do you think there is a connection between the > form of Islam children are taught here and the action of 15 Saudi men on > September 11?" > > Without thinking, his immediate response was, `No. No, because Saudis were > not behind 9/11. The plane hijackers were not Saudi men. One thousand two > hundred and forty-six Jews were absent from work on that day and there is > the proof that they, the Jews, were behind the killings. Not Saudis." > > It was the first time I heard so precise a number of Jewish absentees. I > sat there pondering on the pan-Arab denial of the truth, a refusal to > accept that the Wahhabi jihadi terrorism festering in their midst had > inflicted calamities on the entire world. > > In my class the following Sunday, the beginning of the Saudi working week, > were nearly 60 Saudis. Only one mentioned the London bombings. > "Was your family harmed?" he asked. > "My sister missed an explosion by four minutes but otherwise they're all > fine, thank you." > The student, before a full class, sighed and said: "There are no benefits > in terrorism. Why do people kill innocents?" > Two others quickly gave him his answer in Arabic: "There are benefits. They > will feel how we feel." > I was livid. "Excuse me?" I said. "Who will know how it feels?" > "We don't mean you, teacher," said one. "We are talking about people in > England. You are here. They need to know how Iraqis and Palestinians feel." > "The British people have been bombed by the IRA for years," I retorted. > "Londoners were bombed by Hitler during the blitz. The largest > demonstrations against the war in Iraq were in London. People in Britain > don't need to be taught what it feels like to be bombed." > Several students nodded in agreement. The argumentative ones became quiet. > Were they convinced by what I had said? It was difficult to tell. > Two weeks after the terrorist attacks in London another Saudi student > raised his hand and asked: "Teacher, how can I go to London?" > "Much depends on your reason for going to Britain. Do you want to study or > just be a tourist?" > "Teacher, I want to go London next month. I want bomb, big bomb in London, > again. I want make jihad!" > "What?" I exclaimed. Another student raised both hands and shouted: "Me > too! Me too!" > Other students applauded those who had just articulated what many of them > were thinking. I was incandescent. In protest I walked out of the classroom > to a chorus of jeering and catcalls. > > My time in Saudi Arabia bolstered my conviction that an austere form of > Islam (Wahhabism) married to a politicised Islam (Islamism) is wreaking > havoc in the world. This anger-ridden ideology, an ideology I once > advocated, is not only a threat to Islam and Muslims, but to the entire > civilised world. > > I vowed, in my own limited way, to fight those who had hijacked my faith, > defamed my prophet and killed thousands of my own people: the human race. I > was encouraged when Tony Blair announced on August 5, 2005, plans to > proscribe an array of Islamist organisations that operated in Britain, > foremost among them Hizb ut-Tahrir. > > At the time I was impressed by Blair's resolve. The Hizb should have been > outlawed a decade ago and so spared many of us so much misery. Sadly the > legislation was shelved last year amid fears that a ban would only add to > the group's attraction, so it remains both legal and active today. But it > is not too late. > > © Ed Husain 2007 > Extracted from The Islamist, to be published by Penguin on May 3, £8.99. > Copies can be ordered for £8.54 including postage from The Sunday Times > BooksFirst on 0870 165 8585 > > > > At 02:24 PM 11/29/2007 +0700, you wrote: > > >Message #74628 > > > >RIYADH, Saudi Arabia - Saudi Arabia's King Fahd, who moved his > >country closer to the United States > >but ruled in name only since suffering a stroke in 1995, died early > >Monday, the Saudi royal court said. He was 84. > > > >Crown Prince Abdullah, the king's half brother and Saudi Arabia's de > >factor ruler, > >was appointed the country's new monarch. > > > >"With all sorrow and sadness, the royal court in the name of his > >highness > >Crown Prince Abdullah bin Abdul Aziz and all members of the family > >announces > >the death of the custodian of the two holy mosques, King Fahd bin > >Abdul Aziz, > >" according to a statement read on state-run Saudi TV by the > >country's information minister. > > > >Fahd died at approximately 2:30 EDT, a senior Saudi official in > >Washington told The Associated Press. > >President Bush was alerted within minutes of Fahd's death, > >the official said on condition of anonymity. > > > >Saudi TV, which said the king was 84 years of age, broke with regular > >broadcasting to announce > >Fahd's death. Quranic verse recitals followed the announcement by the > >minister, > >Iyad bin Amin Madani, whose voice wavered with emotion as he read the > >statement. > > > > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] >
