Читать книгу Holy Warrior Trojan Horses - Sheldon Cohen - Страница 7

Hari and Lois drove home in silence. Lois noted her husband’s expression and knew he was deep in thought. This meant she would hear his opinion soon—and she was right. They sat down at the kitchen table. “I know what we must do,” said Hari.

With an anxiety based upon many years of experience learning to read her husband’s tone of voice, all she could muster was a fearful, “What?”

“I was thinking of this even before Ben saw Dr. Levine. I agree with you that it wouldn’t be wise to send Ben to college now; he’s too young. He’s never adjusted well in school. He stays bored because everything is so easy for him. He has not found his true destiny because he does not know Allah. It all must be changed.”

Lois looked at her husband with fear and trepidation. “How?” she murmured.

“He will go to the Imam for a year. He is not ready for college. He must learn that there is peace and contentment in knowing Allah. We will save our son.”

“Oh my God; the Imam. You’re talking Pakistan. You can’t mean it.” The last four words were delivered in a pleading voice, but Lois knew her husband’s voice was spoken with the inflection that suggested an order—not anything to discuss.

“I mean it. You heard Dr. Levine. Talk therapy is what he needs. Twenty-five years ago in Pakistan, the Imam turned my life around. We were both young then. I was floundering like Ben. The Imam took me in tow and led me into math. I never knew I had an aptitude. Even though he was not much older than I was, he had the reputation of a Koran genius far beyond his young years. When the old Imam died, he stepped in and filled his shoes. His knowledge is beyond that of psychiatrists. God whispers in his ear. Where could Ben get better talk therapy than from the Imam? It is settled. I’ll talk to Ben.”

Lois responded, “What about medicine that Dr. Levine recommended?”

“The Imam will know. Medicines can be dangerous. What is wrong with a trial of talk therapy first? I believe that would make the use of medicines unnecessary. What are medicines? They are all poisons. Taken in a small dose they might help a person, but you never know. In big, enough doses…they kill, or they maim. Believe me I have studied the issue. Some of the psychiatric medicines leave permanent physical effects. Some of them lead to suicide. Medicine to me is a last resort.”

“But you are acting as his doctor now. You are making the decision as to what he will or will not do. How could you do this? The medical professionals have a tough enough time trying to make therapy decisions, and you are trying to do that…and for your own son. That is reckless. What if, God forbid, something should happen to Ben. How would you feel? Don’t do this, Hari.”

Lois had never seen her husband get angry. He had a flat affect, but as his wife spoke in opposition to his thinking, his voice became louder…calm, but louder. Lois knew that this was his way of letting her know that his position was final and he would brook no opposition. What could she do? She feared for her son.

“My dear wife, Allah is the only tried and true medicine. Ben needs Allah. He will find him with the Imam.”

“But you haven’t spoken to the Imam for many years. How do you know what he thinks now? What if he’s changed?”

“Changed? What do you mean? The Koran does not change. The Koran is the word of God. Allah does not rewrite his commandments. They’re good for the duration of the universe.”

“But there are those who interpret the Koran in different ways. They believe in the theory that the end justifies the means, and you know what kind of thinking that can lead to.”

He spoke again as if he did not even hear her pleading and picked up his point from where he left off. “Think my dear wife. How would the world be if everybody in it adopted the Koran? If all rules were followed and penalties were so harsh that the rules would dare not be broken? There would be no sexually transmitted diseases. There would be no wars. There would be no crime. There would be no mental illness. We would have paradise on earth.”

Not yet allayed of her fears, Lois said again, this time with emphasis, “But I’m talking about the kind of thinking that leads to violence and terrorism. How do you know if the Imam hasn’t changed? What if he has adopted a violent approach. What kind of a man is he now? We have to know.”

Surprised at this unusual show of emotion from his wife, Hari said in a calm, instructing voice, “I know. What kind of a man? I will tell you. Your son needs simple and profound messages that will change the way he thinks. The Imam will give him this just as he gave it to me. What kind of a man was Mohammad? What kind of a man was Churchill in 1940? What kind of a man was Roosevelt in 1933? What kind of a man was Jesus…and Moses. These are people that gave great messages, and they offered answers to the questions that their people wanted to have answered. Churchill warned his people to expect “blood, toil, tears and sweat,” and overnight his citizens accepted that. Roosevelt told his people that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” and it gave the people strength. Even a man like Lenin offered the Russians peace, land and bread, and they followed him with that hope. These are simple messages. These are eloquent messages. These messages are straightforward, forceful messages. These are messages that can turn lives around. The Imam has these messages, and he has the stature to have his words accepted, to change the way a person thinks. Who needed such messages more than I did? Who needs those messages more than my son?”

Hari stopped speaking. His eyes shone, and his face looked toward the heavens. This was enough to tell his wife that interrupting him would be reckless for he had passed into an almost trance-like state and a disruption at this time would disturb his train of thought. That happened only once before, and she would never forget the change in her husband; the anger that was like a raging bull. She waited.

Still looking upward, he continued, “The Imam is intelligent but doesn’t flaunt it. He is humble, and you sense it. He has climbed the highest mountain in Pakistan. He has a vision like the great men I mentioned who have changed history. He is relaxed. He is confident in everything he says and does. He is short, but walks tall. He knows how to laugh. He is firm and purposeful. He exudes strength. He leads the people where they want to go. He will give our boy a sense of glory about himself, the kind of confidence he lacks and needs to compete in this world.”

He paused. His eyes turned to Lois and he softly said, “Does that answer your question my dear wife?”

The look on her husband’s face told Lois that the issue was a settled one, and further discussion would not be welcome. Deep inside her she was overcome with a feeling of foreboding, but she had to say one thing more, “But you never answered my question about the Imam and the way he thinks now.

“It has been answered,” he whispered.