Muhammad: A Prophet for Our Time (Eminent Lives Series) Book

Instead of a review, I'll narrate an incident that occurred a couple of days ago which captures perfectly the way most Muslims might deal with this book. It's a conversation (sort of, perhaps a bit more dramatized now that I analyze it) between myself and another individual and it would summarize the gist of Karen Armstrong's handy work nicely.

*

Limited from severe time constrictions, I often brought this book to the university and the hospital to read through during the short-lived tea breaks. Once, it happened that I was indulged in this activity when a professor of mine, and an esteemed member of our medical society, halted by, picked the book from between my hands and said with a frown:

"Why would you read the biography of our Holy Prophet, the most distinguished man on earth to our knowledge, written by a foreigner?"

Ha? I had this sudden, excessive desire to laugh. I didn't, of course, otherwise I would have likely been arrested in detention of some sort (though, it just might have been worth it). The man was an able doctor and an equally skilled teacher. I respected him. This one question, though, pierced through my image of him like a hair brush flung unaware at the dressing table mirror. I mean, the guy is working towards his Membership of the Royal College of Physicians, London. What about that part isn't foreign?

"Sir" I said, real polite and all. "Armstrong is a known historian on religions and spirituality. She's written this book after quite a lot of research."

"Are you saying we don't have our own historians to research the matter?" he exclaimed.

"Of course not" said I. "But I'd wanted to read something neutral and free of sugar-coating for a while."

Crap, I thought. I need to keep a lock on my mouth lest this polite discussion goes out of hand and climbs into a personal vendetta. Professors here, you know, can't have their students mouthing them, even if they are wrong. I was well aware of getting my grades into jeopardy.

"Hmm" came his verdict. "And what does this Armstrong woman has to say about the Prophet?"

"Well... pretty much every thing we have to say. I mean, she can't change the history, can she? All the facts remain hard, except this time she's presented them in a manner that isn't overqualified. And this book actually focuses on eradicating false Islamophobia from the West."

"I see."

He sat down opposite me. Shit.

"I'm sure she wouldn't have published anything without a thorough research" he continued, "But I highly doubt that a non-muslim of any kind would be able to do justice to the depth of the persona of our Prophet. Maybe just the glimpse of a star in a universe."

"He was a great man, but he was still a man. His characteristics are particularly well known to those outside the religion. Armstrong hasn't tried to record the depth of his personality, just what was visible about him, and yes, that would be like a glimpse of a star in a universe. In fact, she has written the book in a manner that says she was rather fond of him."

I was bordering reckless now, though he didn't seem angry at all. Just sat with a poker face going 'Hmm hmm'. What's a student to do but prattle with fluster? It was like a damned full-fledged viva in a cafeteria.

"Not a surprise. What of the 'sugar-free' parts though?"

"Not exactly sugar-free. She's just cited some of the minor mistakes that the Prophet had committed while trying to embrace his new responsibility. Mistakes to prevent the compromise of Islam itself, actually. Our textbooks kind of left out those parts... though, of course, all this was to signify that he was a human being as well. And, uh, yeah."

"And uh?"

"No, just that the state of the Arabs before the beginning of Islam was pretty sorry. We weren't given the full image at school."

"That's correct. It's still a bit sorry, actually."

Finally. Some sign of recognition that he wouldn't have me suspended. Thank you, God. I was half in excitement and half in tears. Please go away now, Professor, I have enough of you during the tedious lectures.

He got up. Yes!

"You're not wrong, Komal."

Wait, he knew me by name? Among 86 students? Shit. No wait, my coat damn it. My coat had my name plastered to it. Thank you, God.

"But" he said. "It seems to me that you're eager to throw away what some of our own people say. I acknowledge that most among us are unreliable, but Armstrong really can't catch the deeper essences of Islam and Muhammad if she doesn't practise it. I think you're looking in the wrong places for this topic. This book, like you said, is focused towards the non-Islamic nation. I can give you a few recommendations on Islamic authors that wouldn't track you off the legitimate things, keep the sugar away, all the while explaining the better intricacies of Islam that Armstrong can never hope to capture. While I admit that we're not the greatest society on earth, you should stop concluding that there are no credibly literate people to be found. There are plenty."

He smiled at the end. Thank you, God. I'd almost pee'd my pants.

"Yes Sir. That would be great."

"See you at the lecture."

I picked up the mirror pieces and started gluing them together. Well, the mirror appears more stronger now.