Infidel, by Ayaan Hirsi Ali

I just started reading Infidel, by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. Ali is a former Muslim who grew up in Somalia, Saudi Arabia, Ethiopia, and Kenya, and is now famous for her fierce criticism of Islam. While I’m sure I will disagree with many of her ultimate conclusions regarding religion and morality, the book is providing me with an excellent firsthand account of life in the Muslim world.

In Chapter Three, Ali and her family move from Somalia (largely Muslim, but not too strict) to Saudi Arabia (the heart of the Muslim world). The transition is quite interesting. Ali, her brother Mahad, and her sister Haweya enter a school with Saudi children. Ali recalls:

All the girls at madrassah [school for learning the Qur’an] were white; I thought of them as white, and myself, for the first time, as black. They called Haweya and I Abid, which meant slaves. Being called a slave—the racial prejudice this term conveyed—was a big part of what I hated in Saudi Arabia. (p. 42)

This racism against Ali and her family, however, was nothing compared to the Saudis’ hatred of Jews:

In Saudi Arabia, everything bad was the fault of the Jews. When the air conditioner broke or suddenly the tap stopped running, the Saudi women next door used to say the Jews did it. The children next door were taught to pray for the health of their parents and the destruction of the Jews. (p. 47)

Ali says that she and her family loved visiting the Grand Mosque, where everyone was kind to one another. Yet the situation was quite different outside the mosque:

[A]s soon as we left the mosque, Saudi Arabia meant intense heat and filth and cruelty. People had their heads cut off in public squares. Adults spoke of it. It was a normal, routine thing: after the Friday noon prayer you could go home for lunch, or you could go and watch the executions. Hands were cut off. Men were flogged. Women were stoned. (p. 43)

At home, Ali began to notice the harsh treatment of Saudi women:

Some of the Saudi women in our neighborhood were regularly beaten by their husbands. You could hear them at night. Their screams resounded across the courtyards: “No! Please! By Allah!” (p. 47)

This mistreatment, and other horrors she witnessed in the course of her life, have fueled her passion for reform in the Muslim world.

I’m only on Chapter Five, but the book is great so far. I’m looking forward to reading about her encounter with the West, and her struggles with Islam.