Shaikh Azzaam; “What is the religion behind the Palestinian revolution?”
And the man replied.
“This revolution has no religion behind it.”
Umair listened with an intent look at the old man relating the story of how Shaykh Azzaam left his homeland behind and migrated to Afghanistan.
“That was It. How I wish he lived to see the Palestine of now and how they cherish and nurture our Deen. He packed up and left to go to the land of our Nabi SAW. He accepted a position at King Abdul Aziz University in Jeddah…then one day in 1979 he heard something that would change his life forever and make him a hero of Islamic history…”
(News snippet)Afghanistan has been invaded by the communist troops of the United Soviet States of Russia. A battle of David & Goliath some predict.
You left the comfort and security of the familiar to raise up the flag of Allah’s word. You worked ceaselessly to bring the hearts together to fight for one cause. In the bone numbing winter and harsh mountains, on foot and on mule did you tread the path of Allah, while we in our youth grew tired. The words of our beloved SAW shading you… One hour spent fighting in the path of Allah is worth more than 70 years praying at home.No Mujaahid today is Not inspired by you Oh Azzaam… May Allah keep you near HIM Oh Azzaam amongst the hearts of the green birds.
I was blown away. “Wow! What a man! I’m so glad I got to meet him! The people around him can’t seem to get enough of him yet he remains so humble… with all the time he spends for the war, where is his family?”
“He migrated with them to the frontlines. His wife also has that spirit of serving the people. She does humanitarian work and also takes care of the orphans. So unlike the people who sit in their homes with their paper degree and expert advice… He taught us that Jihad is not about the gun , thats the last point but about building yourself up spiritually, being stronger as a Muslim.” Umair answered.
“Hmm… I did hear him advising some of the youngsters there about fasting every Monday and Thursday. I thought you guys did that in Ramadhan only Umair?”
“That’s the obligatory fast. Out of Ramadhan is optional, infact Shaikh himself fasts every second day like the Prophet Dawud AS, David?”
“You mean he starves while in combat??” These Muslims were something else.
“Aha but that’s the dif, it’s not starving…it’s a spiritual exercise that tames the bad side of you…inclination towards doing things that corrupt your character is lessened on a hungry stomach, while you’re fasting you’re also supposed to abstain from evil to benefit from it.” Umair explained with the passion that always coloured his words whenever it came to his religion.
“Umair…. Drop to floor…now.” I instructed him sharply. Without question, he did so along with me. We crawled to a crack in the curtain and looked at a car that had been parked opposite my house for the past two hours… I had seen sudden movement and then stillness. My radar kicked up a notch after being watched for years.
The price of being an American with a thinking mind.
“I’ve got a feeling it’s not anyone’s visitors… Let’s play them at their own game…” I whispered.
Umair nodded. “Hmm I wonder which side it is. They are scared we’re going to go into a cease fire with the Russians, that’s why they think tailing me is going to give them the info they want. The Russians have called for negotiations and want a “treaty dialogue” because they never expected to take such a beating but they don’t know that Shaikh Azzaam has his answer ready for them.”
Shaikh Azzaam’s motto and cry was ; Jihad and the rifle alone. No negotiation, no conferences and no dialogues.
At that time, such speech was declared a hero’s call and the Mujaahideen of Afghanistan were called freedom fighters and heroes by the American government, because it was in their interests. Today the same speech is labelled as hate speech and the same Mujaahideen are suddenly terrorists, because it is now against the interests of the American government.
Umair looked at me. He knew American treachery first hand.“ Let’s play these losers at their own game,I’ll slip out the backdoor,give Carl a hug from me when he wakes up.” As he got up, I realised something was badly wrong…
“Hey why is it suddenly chilly in here? I can feel a draught ,something’s not right.” I whispered fiercely.
“it’s coming from Carl’s room.” Umair quickly assessed.
I bounded up the stairs in two’s. My heart somersaulting all the way upto my mouth. I pushed the nursery door open with a shaking hand. Not my son,not my son, I silently chanted.
“Umair! Carl is missing! He’s not in his bed and the backdoor is wide open! He’s been kidnapped!”