The dust on the horse's nose and the religion that puts to sleep

When Abdullah b. Mubarak, one of the Islamic scholars of the eighth century, was asked, "O Abu Abdurrahman! Who is superior, Muawiyah or Umar ibn Abd al-Aziz?", he replied: "By God, the dust that entered the nose of Muawiyah's horse while he was with the Messenger of Allah is a thousand times superior to Umar." 

In that case, we understand this: Even a speck of dust entering a horse's nose can nullify everything else. Never mind Muawiyah; even that dust can surpass a name known for its historical reputation. You can imagine what Muawiyah is.

In that case, the world is one thing, and Muawiyah is another.

Why, though?

Because he saw the Prophet and was by his side, even if only during the last two years of the Prophet's life. But does Muawiyah seeing the Prophet mean that he would not make mistakes for the rest of his life, that he would not make wrong decisions as a governor and state administrator, and furthermore, that he would not persecute people and, even worse, would not be a tyrannical ruler? If seeing the Prophet adds such a degree of superiority and human value to a person, why did those who knew him after the Prophet fight, and why was the Islamic world never free of blood and tears? Why did Muslims kill Caliph Uthman? Between whom did the Battle of the Camel take place? Who was it that rebelled against Hz. Ali, that is, the Caliph, before Siffin, stood against him, subsequently drew a sword against him at Siffin, and caused the deaths of thousands of people? We do not know that horse being ridden or that dust being kicked into the air, but we have read the events we recounted above in Islamic history books. In that case, what is being told is not just a horse and dust; it is opium, anesthesia, a religion that puts to sleep.

This narrative, which tries to be kept alive, which darkens history and facts, which extinguishes all torches and blinds the eyes, also idolizes individuals; in this respect, it takes us back to before the monotheistic religions. Only the place, time, and name of the idols change. Moreover, in such a religious atmosphere, idols live on indefinitely. Phenomena such as historical narrative and lineage open new seats for the idol of every era in a way that knows no time. Consciousness disappears in such times; perception and reasoning are lost. Fanaticism takes their place; the surroundings are filled with cheerleaders who appear to act as clergymen, journalists, or politicians, but who essentially incite fans in a team's stands. The voice of those who live their religion is not heard over the noise of the hooligans; the noise begins to stifle not only the ears but also the souls.

Recently, I came across a speech by one of these voices. He was even defending the privatization of bridges. He had six children and was supposedly living in poverty, but he believed that the money coming from the bridge revenues would go to safe places; that's what he believed, that's what he was shouting. According to this journalist, whose anger in his voice was reflected in his face and whose tension was reflected in his tongue, and who resembled a cheerleader as far as we could see, the issue was again tied to religion, and whatever was happening was being legitimized in the name of religion, so to speak. We were witnessing it once again: There was nothing left behind; time was only changing the names.

It is also necessary to mention here the words uttered by a "hodja" known for his robe regarding the Üsküdar Municipality. Before getting to that, let us briefly recall the Üsküdar process. First, Sinem Dedetaş, who came to office through elections, was arrested. Subsequently, the municipal elections were renewed, and the mayor was again a CHP member. After a while, the renewed election was challenged, and the court suspended the execution. The Governor's Office made a controversial decision on election day. And just before the election, the deputy mayors were detained. Two council members who were supposed to vote were arrested, and four CHP members transferred to the AKP. If you read the process that took place with a minimum sense of conscience, you will see that there is not much left to say. But Cübbeli Ahmet, who supposedly gives religious sermons morning and night, welcomed this decision with joy. He said, "The return of Üsküdar to the AKP has brought us national Muslims to relief." He tried to explain even this event, which is one of the most shameful incidents in the country's history, with religion. Even in such a situation, he used election results, Muslims, and Allah in the same sentence and prayed. At that moment, the dust rose from the ground, drifted into the air, and then entered the horse's nose. Those who saw it understood what was happening, while those who did not continued to applaud the narrator, the horse, and the dust.

History is like that; as long as lessons are not learned, it constantly appears before us as a lesson.

Neither the Muawiyahs of the era end, nor the Mubaraks.

It is no longer what is written in the book, but the religion that is lived that determines the direction of faith.

The screens appeared on, the mansions and palaces sat in, the stipends received, and the pulpits seized determine it.

That is why the point that should really be discussed in the name of religion is not who defends what, but how they live what they defend, where they position themselves against the powers that be, and their attitude toward commands.

Because this is the only truth that history shows.