Bushra Zafar is a longtime participant in The Church Lab’s dialogues. She religiously identifies as Ahmadiyya Muslim, and she graciously agreed to write on her experiences with persecution both in Pakistan and America and the ways in which her faith informs how she processes these experiences. We are deeply grateful to Bushra for taking the time out to vulnerably share her stories so that we may grow in understanding and compassion.
As I sat down to write about persecution, I was faced with the decision of which aspect to focus on. Should I write about the blatant persecution faced by my cousin, who as a teenager got burning hot water thrown on him just for his faith, then as a grown man and a father got caught in the suicide attacks on two Ahmadi mosques in Lahore, Pakistan in 2010? Or the more insidious persecution, where he along with wife and son, for the past 8 years are living statelessly, waiting for a country willing to offer refuge? Alternatively, I could discuss the assassination attempt on my father due to his faith. Or on a grander scale should I tackle how my country of choice, the United States, is behaving myopically to the events in Palestine and Israel. In the end, I found inspiration in the resilience of the persecuted Palestinian civilians, whom I witnessed being martyred, maimed and displaced again and again. Despite the constant loss, when news of another loss was reported to them, in countless videos I would hear them respond with the words:
“Sufficient for us is God, and an excellent Guardian is He” (Quran 3:174).
Growing up in Pakistan during the oppressive regime of military dictator, Zia ul Haq, being an Ahmadi Muslim was made illegal. Merely saying “Assalam-o-Alaikum”, a greeting of peace, could lead to jail. Many Ahmadis in the 80s were jailed for the offense, and as a lawyer my father got to represent some of them in court. Many Ahmadis even lost their lives at the hands of mob violence. In Islam, anyone who loses life while testifying steadfastly to their faith is honorably called a martyr. The Arabic word for martyr is “shaheed”, although its etymological meaning is more closely that of “witness”. Here, I must confess that as a child, witnessing the painful persecution made me idealize martyrdom. I saw it as a shortcut to finding salvation, which normally requires the toil of righteous living, and bearing through persecution. It’s only with time and experience that I have understood that the true essence of martyrdom lies in bearing witness to one's faith by living each day in the presence of God, not through death but through living.
Now, the question remains: what does living in the presence of God actually entail, and how can it be put in action in our daily lives? Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, the founder of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community and the Promised Messiah in his book “How to be free from sin” expounds on this subject and makes the case that only through living in the presence of God can a person achieve true salvation and it can only be achieved through balancing two things, namely:
the Rights of God and
the Rights of Man.
As an exercise in testing this theory, let's juxtapose Taliban’s religious extremism and French secularism. They exemplify the consequences of losing balance in either direction. The Taliban's extreme focus on the Rights of God results in the infringement of human rights, including the policing of women's apparel. Conversely, the French are committed to keeping God out of public life, again, leading to, among other things, to the policing of women's apparel. These contrasting approaches highlight how extremism in either direction can ultimately lead to persecution of people who may have a differing viewpoint.
The question remains that how can we find comfort in a world where God’s commandments of doing good unto others, a teaching found in all major religions, is ignored because of corrupted interpretations or intentions? What’s the prescription for breaking the cycle of hate and violence?
As I look at the broken world around me, I for one find comfort in the response by God’s chosen ones who refused to reply in kind to hate and advocated for love and compassion. I find comfort in the words of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad:
“You should conquer hearts and hearts are not conquered through wars, but through superior morals.” (Malfuzat Vol.10 P.437)
The words of forgiveness on the lips of Jesus (peace be on him) while on the cross inspire me:
“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).
I learn from the wisdom of a victorious Prophet Muhammad (Peace be on him) as he entered Mecca. To avoid bloodshed, he announced clemency even for his most ardent enemy, Abu Sufyan, the Meccan leader who had tortured and persecuted him and his followers. I also find comfort in the words my father said to me when Zia ul Haq died in a plane crash in 1989 and I gleefully brought him the news that the wicked persecutor of Ahmadis had finally met his fate. He replied in the most somber manner with a couplet of a Sufi poet:
“Do not rejoice in the death of your enemy, for your friends too will die one day.”
So, in the end, through analyzing the response to the persecution one might be able to discern whether the persecuted have the power to see God and be seen by Him. The ones who respond to calamity with equal or greater force or those who say, through their pain:
“Sufficient for us is God, and an excellent Guardian is He” (Quran 3:174).