Hicham's Testimony: From a Muslim Extremist to a Follower of Jesus

Hicham's Testimony: From a Muslim Extremist to a Follower of Jesus
Early Childhood
Born in 1960, in Lebanon, since my early childhood, I became aware that the
country I lived in was divided along sectarian lines, between Christians and
Muslims. Also I was aware that my family is one of the biggest in Lebanon, and
that we have descended from the tribe of Muhammad, the Prophet of Islam.
Historians say that we came as warlords with the Arab conquests to Lebanon,
Syria, and Palestine. Nowadays, the Chehabs numbered in Lebanon around
11000 people. Playing in the few green fields left among the growing "forest of
cement" ( i.e. Beirut in the early 1960s), I realized that those boys who had
different names, like Pierre and Elias, were Christians. And boys like me, with
Arabic names, or a name that sounded, or combined words like those that the
Muezzins chanted from the minarets (Muhammad and Allah), were Muslims. I
also became aware of the words used by the older generations of Muslims to
describe Christians (terms we describe today as stereotypes). I heard that "they
eat those filthy animals;" pigs, drink those "stinky liquids;" whisky and Arak
(Lebanese wine), get drunk and lose their composure, their women were loose,
and have neither honor nor chastity (even though I did not know then what
chastity meant)." I could see then that their women dressed in revealing clothes,
unlike my mother and our female relatives, who covered their heads, and wore
skirts or overcoats that went way below their knees.
Those boys, with French or Western names, used to side with each other, in any
quarrel that took place, irrespective of what was right or wrong. In those days, a
brawl over marbles used to lead to a fight between the Muslim boys, and the
Christian boys. Two incidents I remember clearly. The first, was when a cousin of
mine chased a Christian boy to beat him up. In his attempt to escape, the
"cowardly" Christian scampered across the street and was run down by a car.
We did not see him back then for weeks. No body was sorry for him.
"Allah has punished him", we thought, "He had it coming". The second incident
was when Pierre, the youngest brother of the wounded boy, appeared from
nowhere and banged me on the head with a piece of wood that had a protruding
nail, and ran away. I could not remember why he attacked me then. But I still
remember how a teenage cousin of mine dragged me home, weeping with blood
trickling down into my eyes and my cheeks. I was six or seven then, and did not
understand the reasons behind the animosity between us; Muslims and
Christians. But I still have the scar of that attack on my forehead.
In the Ranks of a Muslim Militia
I was only thirteen when an extremist Muslim group recruited me, two years
before the Lebanese civil war broke out in 1975. I was "able" then, as I thought,
in the ranks of that faction, to "comprehend" the big picture of the sectarian
community we were living in, in the 1970s.
My late eldest brother (who was then less than 15) and I were first attracted to
that Muslim faction by a group of teenagers studying the Qur'an in the mosque in
our neighborhood. In addition to hearing its call for prayers five times a day, the
mosque was only three minutes walk from
home, and was built jointly with our school. So we did not have to go far to get
there. Kamal, the young man who was leading the discussions in a corner of that
mosque, was around 20. He was bright and educated, and drew our attention to
the political privileges that the Christians, the
"minority," had in Lebanon, and the grievances of the Muslims; the majority. He
asserted how "shameful it was for the descendants of the Caliphs who once ruled
the world, to have a Christian president."
Before Ta'ef agreement that officially marked the end of the civil war in 1989, the
president of Lebanon actually headed the executive authority, but was
unaccountable to anybody. The prime minister, who was decreed by tradition to
be a Muslim, was a puppet, but took the brunt of all the political and economical
crises in the country.
Kemal said that the Christians were put into that superior position (to the
Muslims) by the French colonizers in the 1940s.We understood then that we
were second- class citizens in our homeland, and deprived from our full rights.
We were denied the top positions in the government and had no clout in any
public sector. We felt that our rituals and holidays were not respected. Christmas
and Easter were celebrated in the official media, while our holidays went
unnoticed. Even we were denied the right to have Fridays off for the weekly
Muslim ceremonies in mosques. In addition, we felt that most Arab Christians or
Armenians could be naturalized and become Lebanese, because churches and
the official authorities helped them in order to tip the demographic balance to
their favor, while more than 250, 000 Muslim Palestinian refugees, and 200, 000
Kurds living for decades in Lebanon were refused naturalization. All the
circumstances around us smacked of a "conspiracy" by the West, Israel, and the
Lebanese Christians.
Kamal blamed many Muslim politicians for "our miserable situation,"but overall
he blamed the late Egyptian president Gamal Abdul Nasser. Kamal said that
"Nasser was merely a demagogue who led the Arabs and Muslims astray or to
defeat, and lost Palestine to the Zionists." "Nasser, a double agent for the West
and the Soviet Union, crushed the Muslim movements in Egypt and pressured
other Muslim groups in the Arab world because they had the solution for our
dilemma, and collaborated with foreign powers to keep us backward and
defeated, in order to exploit us, and drain our resources," he added. "But Allah
has revealed his treachery, and let him suffer that shameful defeat in 1967,
because he was following the way of the world, not the path of Prophet
Muhammad," Kamal asserted. But he often strongly argued that the solution was
in doing what the early Muslims did; re-establish the Caliphate that was
abolished by Kamal Ataturk, the founder of modern Turkey. "We tried Pan-
Arabism, Communism, Socialism, and Capitalism, but failed. The answer lies in
Islam. It is not impossible. We have a good example in Saladin, and how he
defeated the Crusaders," argued Kamal.
After two weeks, Kamal added to the Quranic reading assignment from books
written by Sayyed Qutub (Osama bin Laden's master philosopher), and the late
founder of Pakistan's Al Gamaa Al Islamiyyah (The Muslim Group) Abu Al Aala
Al Mawdoudi. Kamal said that Qutub was able to explain what Allah wanted from
us in this age of defeat and shame. We understood from reading Qutub's works
that the world is divided into two realms: The realm of Islam and the realm of
unbelief.
International borders are set-up only to keep the Muslims divided.Muslims, if they
were real Muslims, have to work for the foundation of a global Muslim state.
Kamal and other mentors in that faction taught us that the Christians were
"unclean infidels, Crusaders, and an appendage of the morally corrupt West in
the Middle East; that they were spies among us, and their hostile presence
should be taken care of. Kamal confirmed that Muslims groups in Lebanon were
part of an international revival movement that would topple the regimes, overturn
the tables of history, and reunify the divided Muslim countries.
The situation in Lebanon was aggravated by the presence of the Palestinian
refugees and the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), which found in the
"wronged" Lebanese Muslims "natural allies." Especially that, after the death of
Nasser in 1970, the LebaneseMuslims lost a major ally against the Christian
Right.
The PLO started arming, or helping in arming Leftist parties and Muslim
movements. Those parties (allied with the PLO), formed a "National Movement"
that mobilized the indignant Muslims, organizing nation- wide strikes, rallies, and
demonstrations against the Lebanese government which was often accused of
being biased to the privileged Christians and extreme Rightist Christian militias.
Those Christian factions seized every opportunity to engage with the Palestinians
and their allies in street fights or armed skirmishes, and get away with it
unscathed, because of their clout with the Lebanese authorities.
Most Muslims believed then that some Christian parties had been training since
the late 1940s to mow down the Muslims, with Israel as their main ally.
In 1973, I was invited, together with my brother, to military training camps. We
felt that we were following the path of Muhammad, or Saladin. We climbed the
distant desolate mountains of North Lebanon in shabby buses. The age groups
in those vehicles ranged from 13 to 60, with the majority under 20. But we were
all chanting "Islamic songs" written by Muhammad Iqbal (a Pakistani Muslim poet
and thinker), Qutub, and others with great zeal:
"China is ours, India is ours.
Islam is our religion.
The world is our homeland"
"Muslims.. Muslims..Muslims.
Wherever there is Justice and Right, you find us.
We prefer death to humiliation.
Sweet is death in the Cause of Allah"
In that training camp in the distant mountains, we learned how to use rocket
launchers, mortars, and rifles. We were told: "if you want to shoot straight,
imagine that there is a Christian in your sights" (a statement that puts in a
nutshell all the hate we had for our Christian compatriots).
Verses from the Qur'an were often invoked to prove that Jihad was an obligation.
Preachers often supported their views with fatwas (verdicts) that dated to the
Middle Ages, and argued that all Muslims were sinners if they give up the path of
Jihad, especially with Muslim lands, like Palestine, the Muslim republics of the
former Soviet Union, and Kashmir were under occupation.
The Lebanese Civil War
In 1975, as soon as the civil war in Lebanon broke out, I participated in most of
the aspects of the war, from shelling Christian neighborhoods to laying in
ambush for Christian militias.
It was a terrible war. Everyone lost somebody -- from a population of three to 3.5
million, there were 150,000 dead" -- almost five per cent of the populace, and
there were over 100,000 injured and 17,000 disappeared.
It was so insecure. There were over 200 militias, with the alliances always
shifting and the enemies changing."
Beirut was divided into a Christian part and a Muslim one, with a green line
separating between them. Both parties perpetrated atrocities by killing civilians.
However, Muslims felt that they were taken by surprise when one of the most
extremist Christian militias massacred hundreds of Muslim civilians on their way
to work at Beirut's harbor in September 1975.
It was an ugly war. A friend of mine, once a leader in that militia, but now a
Peacemaker whom I have worked with for national reconciliation, used to phone
bomb threats to Muslim theatres, so that he could mortar the crowds as they fled
onto the streets.
In the late 1970s, I was given a long-range rifle with a powerful telescope and
sniped at people in the Christian part of Beirut.
It was a moment of truth when, through my telescope, I saw three people running
for cover: An old woman and two boys. One of them looked like a cousin of mine.
The old woman reminded me of my grandmother. I could even see the wrinkles
in her face. I did not shoot. My conscience told me that they were people like us.
I refused to follow orders and decided to quit. "No causes are worth the
bloodshed," I thought.
Later, I decided to focus on Muslim religious studies, and took a course in order
to become a Muslim preacher. Just a few days before I was supposed to give my
first Friday sermon, I had a car accident and broke my legs. It was a compound
fracture. I was hospitalized for 50 days and bed-ridden for a year. However, it
gave me time to reconsider what I want to do in life. In order to pass the time, I
started reading comics in Arabic and English. It was expensive to devour those
comic books, so I switched to reading novels. After a year in bed, I was able to
read unabridged English novels. When I was able to walk on crutches, I went
back to high school and kept reading novels. I stumbled over a Western novel
written by Louis L' Amour who wrote around a 120 novels. I read them all. I got
really better in English and passed the American University of Beirut English
Entrance Exam.
Jesus, the Prince of Peace
During my first semester in college, in 1980, my only brother and sibling, by this
time a militia captain, was killed by a Christian militia while he was trying to
negotiate a truce. My brother and I were very good friends, not only brothers. We
used to do everything together. We learned how to swim, how to bike, had the
same friends, and went to school together.
Two of my brother's comrades and I vowed to kill all our enemies.I got a silencer
and two pistols, and I started stalking my enemies in the streets at night. Some of
them were my classmates; I would befriend them so I could learn their
movements simply in order to kill them.
I led a double life: assassin at night and student in the classroom in the daytime.
It was not an easy life.
Meanwhile, as a student at the American University, I had to take a course in
cultural studies, for which I had to read selections from the Bible. The course
included the Qur'an and the Bible. Then, I had known the Qur'an by heart, but the
Bible was a new thing to me. I read the Sermon on the Mount at the climax of my
hate and thirst for vengeance. Christ's exhortation: "Love your enemies and pray
for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven"
(Matthew 5:45) struck me with full force. I felt that I heard the voice of God in
stereo. I, who knew what is an enemy, and sought to kill my enemies, felt that
Jesus' exhortation was superhuman and cannot emanate from an ordinary
human being, but from a divine source.
Even though I was taught by Muslim clerics that the Bible was distorted by
Rabbis and bishops, Christ's words "Love God from all your heart, and love your
neighbor" sounded authentically divine. Even through the loss of my brother, I
thought: "There is another way, a way of forgiveness."
I was touched by Jesus' parables, especially that of the Good Samaritan. I
discovered that my countrymen who were fighting us were not good Christians,
were not Good Samaritans, and as if they were reading a different Bible.
I stopped my night activities, and decided to reconsider things and see if it were
possible to follow this Jesus.
At the same time, I found it "odd" that Lebanese Christian militias used symbols
such as crosses with dagger-points, or crosses dripping with (presumably
Muslim) blood -- "it was like they weren't reading the same Bible."
I realized that many Lebanese Christians changed the symbol of Love and
Salvation into a symbol of hate and murder. Muslims saw in them what some
Western Christians saw in the Ku Klux Klan.
I told myself then if I was really seeking truth, I should follow up on my readings
of the Bible, irrespective of "my bad neighbors," and walk in the shoes of
Christians. So I started to sneak into churches in order to listen to what believers
say about Jesus.
It was very difficult to go into Catholic and Greek Orthodox churches because of
two things; the figures and icons they had for Jesus that reminded me of idolatry
and the liturgical language they used. Hence, I preferred to attend Protestant
churches with English services, especially because I read the Bible at college in
English, mostly King James Version.
By 1990, when the international community and the Syrians imposed a cease-fire
on Lebanon, I vowed to work for peace and reconciliation.
Together with the Muslim mayor of a Beirut suburb, I founded an NGO dedicated
to Muslim-Christian dialogue and gradually recruited a hundred community
leaders.
In addition to my jobs as an educational advisor and a journalist, I took on a lot of
work. By the 1998 elections, my group could form a National Unity ticket and
elect a Christian mayor to a predominantly Muslim area.
It was not easy to work in a sectarian community against the tide of popular
prejudices and bigotries. Even though I kept a low profile, as a Muslim follower of
Jesus (even though it sounded as a contradiction in terms), sometimes I paid
dearly for my openness, and was labeled as a Christian-lover. Being a human
rights activist and a peacemaker, I was suspected of being a CIA agent who
worked to promote peace (Arabs usually call it surrender not peace) between
Arabs and Israel.
When a Christian Western NGO called the Reconciliation Walk (RW) came to
Lebanon, I stepped in and helped its members bring different Lebanese
communities together. The R.W's original goal was to apologize for the
Crusades, but its members soon discovered that there is a lot to be done in
Lebanon, and I did their public relations and arranged their meetings.
The National Prayer Breakfast
Being an activist in Christian-Islamic dialogue and a Muslim follower of Jesus, I
was invited in 1999 to the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington , D.C. It was
a memorable trip in many ways.
First, I was threatened by my boss to be fired if I went there. His hostility towards
my public work in Lebanon started to surface when I wrote an article in Beirut's
leading daily defending Christians in Egypt and their right to build churches. The
article was based on first hand information I gleaned at an international
conference I attended the previous year. I did not heed his threats, made the trip,
and lost my full-time job. Second, it was a big spiritual boost for me. Four
thousand people from 160 nations were there praying in the name of Jesus.
Third, I stayed for a few days at the house of a good Christian in Virginia, even
though a new acquaintance then, he became a friend for life. Preston showed me
in actions, not in words, how a Christian could be a Good Samaritan. Fourth,
towards the end of that trip, I lost my animosity towards the sign of the cross, a
bigotry acquired from the ugly years of the civil war. I met in Washington a young
man from Alabama- Richard, a "Promise Keeper." We spent three days together.
We prayed and had meals together. At the end of that trip, Richard drove me to
the airport. At the terminal, he went out of his car crying, as if he was parting with
a close relative or a dear friend, and took out a silver cross from his wallet with
the words:
May the angels of God guard thee. It was his personal cross given to me in Love.
I cried like a baby, accepted the cross, and hugged Richard good-bye.
I went back home, a father of three without a job. Usually, in Lebanon, if
someone loses a good job, it would take years to find another one. I found a
better job in two weeks. Later, I found out that some of my Christian friendsmembers
of the Reconciliation Walk and other missionaries sent a prayer
request for me by email. It was unbelievable. Later, I met people from different
countries and discovered that they prayed for me then.
Jesus, the Savior
But the biggest turning point was in August 2000. I was invited to an international
conference in Switzerland on conflict resolution and Christian-Islamic dialogue.
I gave a speech on my work in Lebanon and how I was transformed from a
sniper (or a terrorist) to a peacemaker to around 500 people from 54 nations.
I was presented there as a Muslim working for reconciliation and Christian-
Islamic dialogue in Lebanon.
I was given a standing ovation, with tears in the eyes of many. Scores of people
lined up to shake my hand.
I went back that night to my room thinking of the glorious moments of the day,
and the big promising future in representing Lebanese Muslims in international
conferences.
I decided that night that when I go back to Lebanon, I will tell my praying partner,
Carl, an American missionary living in Lebanon, that I do not want any part of
Jesus or the Bible anymore, and that I am satisfied in the way I am. I had been
wrestling to know Jesus then for 19 years with nothing but shame and
headaches in my Muslim community.
I thought that I would tell him that I had the full respect towards the teachings of
Jesus the peacemaker, not the Savior.
I went to bed that night with this determination in mind, and saw Jesus Christ in
a vision. Until today I am not sure if I was awake or asleep when I saw the Lord.
Two huge slabs of rock parted and He came out from a huge grave the size of a
castle, fit for the King of Kings, in shrouds, and pointed his finger at me and told
me to keep on praying. When I denied Him, He came to the rescue. I looked at
my roommate, a Norwegian journalist, and found out that he was awake too. I
told him about the vision. I did not know that he was a believer too. He pulled out
a pocket Bible from his luggage and we read and prayed until sunrise. I decided
that morning to give my life to Him.
At seven o'clock that morning, a Lebanese Evangelical Christian and a Briton
who lives in Switzerland came to pick me up and drive me to the main
conference. I was then still filled with the Holy Spirit and told them about last
night's events. The Lebanese Christian's attitude was cynical, like that of a Jew
towards a Gentile when Jesus walked the earth. "I have served Jesus all my life
and did not have such a dream or vision… You of all people … a Muslim would
see Jesus," she snapped.
I was on cloud nine for many days. I emailed my praying partner, Carl, and told
him to buckle up for a big event. He was then in the States. I went back to
Lebanon, picked him up at the airport and started the next day planning for a
National Prayer Breakfast in Lebanon.
It was October 2000. We held a prayer event for Lebanon, with the participation
of 150 people from all sects.
I started the meeting with readings from Isaiah where he prophesied that
Lebanon will become a fertile field (Isaiah 29:17). Five speakers spoke and
prayed at that event, two of them in the name of Jesus.
That year I planned with Carl and other believers to start prayer groups in the
Lebanese parliament.
The Lutheran Ministry
That year I met a Lutheran pastor who became my best friend in Beirut. Dr.
Bernhard Lutz used to come to Lebanon as a missionary. I had stepped in an
elevator going up to my credit card company when I saw a friendly face. The
gray-haired man shook my hand and gave me his business card. As soon as I
arrived home that afternoon I called him, and the evening that day we were
visiting together and planning a Bible study.
Bernie and I worked together as if we had known each other for ages. I
introduced Bernie to a Palestinian soccer coach and his team, located at the
Palestinian refugee camp near Beirut where Bernie visited and made friends with
many refugees. Later we were able to help in supporting some of their soccer
games, things that kept them off mischief, and away from Palestinian militias.
Bernie and I helped in distributing Lutheran publications in the poor Shiite suburb
of Beirut. We had an instrumental Syrian couple. This couple held Bible studies
in their house for Muslims and distributed Christian literature to their neighbors.
They have a ministry of faith and do not belong to any church.
I took him to meet Beirut's notables, cabinet ministers and MPs. We went to
Bedouin communities and shared the Gospel with them in the Bekaa valley, a
plain stretching between Mount Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon. I took Bernie to an
orphanage run by a Muslim Follower of Jesus, a Bedouin chief who was
converted by a Lutheran missionary in the 1950s (we discovered this piece of
information later). This Bedouin chief was teaching Muslim Bedouins the Bible in
the heart of
Hezbollah land (Hezbollah is the Lebanese Shiite extremist militia backed by
Syria and Iran). At a point, we met a Hezbollah leader and his group, and shared
with them the Gospel. They were scary moments (for Bernie, as I learned later)
as we waited for them to finish their prayers. But our strength was in the Lord.
Bernie talked for 90 minutes and answered all their questions over dinner. Later
this Hezbollah group invited us to their annual ceremonies. Unfortunately, I had
to go alone because Bernie's time was up in Lebanon, and he had to go back to
the US.
Bernie came only four months a year, so I was in charge of the Middle East
Lutheran Ministry office in the Muslim part of Beirut the rest of the year.
Also, during my annual vacations, I worked with an editorial board of the Sharif
Bible, a version translated and contextualized for Muslims.
Earning a living in Beirut with four children (I had a new baby by then) the last
two years was not easy. I had to work full time in two newspapers, and work part
time as a university professor to put bread on the table. I was working 16 hours a
day. Even though I was thirsty for the Word of God, I was not able to read the
Bible and lead a study but once a week. I even worked weekends.
I prayed to God to provide me with work that puts me at His service, because I
felt that my spiritual life is deteriorating.
Trying to start a Lutheran church in Lebanon, Bernie and I discovered that there
is a law in Lebanon against planting new Protestant churches. This does not
mean that Muslims have clout over the Lebanese government, but Catholic and
Greek Orthodox churches were wielding their clout against Protestants. The
latter are attracting young people from other denominations, something old
churches are against.
Bernie called me in October (2004) and told me that there is no way the
Lutheran church could help me in Lebanon, and that the only way is to join
POBLO. I responded: Even though it means that I have to be uprooted from my
homeland, so be it. I told Bernie and POBLO staff that I am ready to serve God,
whether it is in America or Afghanistan. Until now I do not understand all those
developments in my life. But I can say that He has carried me from glory to glory,
in my walk with Him. He is the Father who has never let me down.