Two Faces of Freedom

TODAY we no longer preface critical questions with "why"; now we ask, "how."   We have entered a moral universe of science and technology, out of our willful determination to chart our sense of freedom, only to be enmeshed in its consequences.    

The only problem is that we cannot gauge its merits and demerits, the "rights" and "wrongs" of our moral actions, our freedom, and its consequences.  We have lost the question, "why?" 

We used to think of "freedom" as aligning our will to God's Will.  We see this struggle unfolding in the writings of Christian writers such as Augustine and Francis of Assissi, and we witness these struggles in writings of Muslim writers such as Al-Ghazzali.  We pretend we no longer have access to this perspective, so critical to our understanding of our moral actions today -or is it so?  We say, in effect, "Those were the days, you know, a thing of the past."  We see another face of "freedom" today, where we give up our determination to align our will to God's Will.

Zaid Shakir once remarked that Decartes was the first "doubter." Decartes' mantra, "I think; therefore, I am," cleaved a distinction between secular and religious knowledge.  It also widened a distinction between our will and God's Will, and, though Decartes lived in a world-view in which religious knowledge, among people of all faiths, remained a priority; public opinion still revolved around a struggle to submit to God's Will.  

Nietzsche went further by declaring that we can never align our will to God's Will; this project is hopeless, since we can never achieve this goal.  Our human desires are too multi-faceted; it is best not to deny their "free" expression."  Not only that, it is no longer a necessity, as we live in modern societies where we cannot distinguish ourselves regarding behavior or ethics.  This "modern" revolution in morality and ethics saps us of purposeful energy, introspection, and patience.  Our Western culture has witnessed a revival of communism, socialism, and other "isms" since our culture reflects an extension of what Nietzsche calls "the Death of God."  We are tired, exhausted. 

The prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him and his progeny) told his companions, upon a return from a military expedition, that they have just waged a "minor jihad."  And what is the "major jihad?"  It is a struggle to align our will to God's Will.  And it is a worthwhile struggle.  

The Bush Administration would have us think that their project is a morally just one, and on the surface it seems so.  Besides, we need to protect ourselves against extremists on a global scale, this "war on terror." We don't deny that there are extremists in our ranks.  They are "pissed off," and they are exacting revenge on their enemies -U.S. military forces and their allies in Iraq and Afghanistan-- to such a degree that it is now becoming the new "norm." 

Their interpretation of jihad is a distorted one, yet I ask what guideposts we rely on to see this distinction.  Such distinctions are no longer relevant in our time. About a month ago about 7 Canadian Muslim nationals, most of them below the age of 20, were arrested for allegedly harboring about 3 tons of chemical explosives for the purposes of exacting terror on Canadian citizens and for allegedly planning to storm Parliament.  Now what in the world would motivate these boys to do such a thing, provided that the allegations are true? 

Law enforcement officials, psychiatrists and psychologists will point to some family dysfunction or other.  But could it be that these boys are chafing at decades of abuse of Palestinians at the hands of Israeli soldiers and a stubborn perception that this government is meddling in the religious, social and political affairs of ordinary Muslims in Iraq and Afghanistan?  Our two perspectives of freedom, that of whether to align our will to God's Will or not, is the Shakespearian inquiry of our time.

YOUSEF DRUMMOND    

(The writer is a recent revert to Islam and can be contacted at drummondhugh@verizon.net)