Rating: 2.5 stars
I won this book in a First Reads giveaway back in February, and only now managed to find some time to read it (incidentally, right after finishing Salman Rushdie’s memoir).
My Isl@m details Nasr’s “evolution” from a devout and unquestioning Muslim to a rabid atheist and, finally, to a Sufi devotee.
I’m generally not a fan of people who “re-embrace” (or, as Nasr, puts it, merely “embrace,” because, having been born into Islam, he hadn’t actually embraced the religion in the first place) Islam by “becoming” Sufis. It seems to me that Sufism is often perceived as a sort of “easy” and “soft” version of Islam that you can opt into and turn towards when you’re tired of “hardcore” Islam. This mindset does a disservice to the Islamic tradition, to the Sufi tradition. Sufism isn’t for the faint of heart, and it certainly shouldn’t be treated as if it were simply one of many “New Age” traditions, as if it has no grounding in the Islamic tradition. Many people believe that in Sufism, traditional Islamic things such as ritual prayer and fasting do not “need” to be followed, but this is not the case (see also: why the commodification of Sufism vis a vis Rumi exploitation is bad).
Anyways, Nasr raises some important points in his book – for instance, the anti-black racism that is present in Arab cultures; the multitude of interpretations of Islam that exist amongst its adherents (compare Nasr’s parents to his schoolteachers); the interplay between religion and culture that differentiates Saudi Muslims from Malaysian Muslims, Iranian Muslims from American Muslims. Also – the exchange of ideas via internet outlets like blogging; the importance of virtual interactions in allowing us to engage in and learn about things that we might otherwise not be exposed to.
Nasr’s “love affair” with doubt, which he personifies as a beautiful woman with whom he practically has a sexual encounter with, has a prominent place in the book. In this section, during which he rejects religious belief in general, Nasr refers to Dawkins, Hitchens, et al as his “heroes”. I’m not a fan of Dawkins and his ilk for several reasons – they can be obnoxious, and are often prone to the same sort of “fire and brimstone sermons” that make them no different than the religious fundamentalists that they so abhor. Also, it might be said that they encourage a type of thought that is no less unquestioning and uncritical than that which is espoused by religious fundamentalism. When you buy into everything that Dawkins et al writes, are you really thinking critically? Are you really questioning, or are you merely becoming a parrot for a different cause?
In the last section of the book, Nasr finally comes to his own terms with Islam; indeed, it’s a sort of reconciliation. In the epilogue, he mentions becoming a follower of the Sufi path, which I have issues with for reasons already mentioned. Here, I think Nasr came to realize that the opinions about Islam that he came to hold while infatuated with Doubt were limited in their perspective. For instance, while in conversation with a hijab-wearing Egyptian blogger, he mistakenly assumed that she was a supporter of the Muslim Brotherhood, and was stunned to learn that she preferred that religion and politics remain separated.
This is important – it’s a warning against making assumptions, of course, but it also tells us that there are an infinite possibility of opinions and perspectives within a given tradition. Though Nasr previously saw things as a sort of dichotomy – Islamic fundamentalism vs almost militant atheism –, I think he eventually came to realize that, in reality, the situation is more like a spectrum, with a wide range of opinions and beliefs.