By Nur Adilah Ramli
Islam… Such was the name given by my father; a name I identify myself with. It was not without reason that I was named Islam. In my religion, a name is a prayer, thus Islam, which means ‘peace’, becomes a prayer each time people call up my name. And a man of peace I hope to become.
It is a strong, heavy name I carry – it’s the name of my religion. If you ask, I would like to live my name and my religion. But being a Muslim is not a one-time deal; it’s a life-long contract.
Unlike Islam which is perfect, Muslim is inevitably flawed. Thus that Muslim and Islam are made equal puzzles me. Yes, my name is Islam, but I am a Muslim who is bound to make mistakes, unlike Islam that is without deficiency.
Explaining about Islam and Muslim has often given me a headache as it is easier for you to take Muslim as the definition of Islam. If I am not careful enough, I may be labelled apologetic, even when my intention is purely to dissolve the air of misunderstanding. But for this time, let me speak.
To live Islamically is indeed the path a Muslim should take, but not all Muslims tread the same straight path, thus the need to draw a line between Islam and Muslim.
As a Muslim named Islam, you may argue that I can’t simply detach Islam from Muslim. Islam and Muslim, by right, should be in one body. But let me repeat. Islam is perfect, Muslim is not.
To you, my statement may appear to be too safe an expression that anyone can make and use as a defence. Perhaps, in your eyes, my word is without substance; you demand to see the proof, which you can see if you choose to see it.
But Islam does not work by force. “There is no compulsion in religion.” There is no compulsion in Islam.
If I show you the proof, please do not perceive me as trying to proselytise you. Islam has been misunderstood, thus showing you the proof is my way of letting you see what I believe in.
Pardon me, sometimes, it slips my mind that belief can’t be immediately seen for it is embedded deep down in one’s heart. But I hope you also do not forget that I have the right to profess my belief, and I recognise the same right you have. “For you is your religion, and for me is my religion.”
I’m still trying to make people see how Islam and Muslim are two things with different notions. But explaining is not an easy task, especially in this issue, as the distinction goes deeper than semantics.
Now, close your eyes, and imagine this: I, named Islam, pull out a gun, point it right to your forehead, and pull the trigger, would you still blame my religion?
Say that you believe that each and every Muslim mirrors Islam, it won’t come as a surprise if my act is taken as the actual representation of Islam. But pray let me explain how that perception is wrong.
If you recall the meaning of my name, Islam means peace. God teaches me that I can’t harm myself neither can I harm the innocents. Does shooting innocent people like you, mean peace? The answer is obvious: such an act means only the opposite. It is by looking at this alone can you see how dissimilar Islam and Muslim are.
I am sometimes frustrated to repeat myself. I find it fruitless to speak without being heard. But I’m never giving up on my religion. As much as you have right to disregard my religion, I have right to hold on, even tighter, to my religion. Things will be less complicated if we can agree on that.
But I would be lying to say that negative words hurled at the religion I believe in do not hurt me; they do. But, in a similar manner, I may have hurt you by commenting on your religion.
Oh, how I wish we can argue less and live peacefully amidst differences!
Still, I believe that to make peace is in our blood. But in my words, I may have made myself sound superior in trying to describe my religion. And it is only natural if you find my tone condescending. But blame not my religion for it is my tongue that speaks such language. I extend my hand to you if I have put you in an uncomfortable position, having to listen to my voice.***