In Response to Dr. Al-Qurashi: Critiquing Mahmoud Mohamed Taha’s Statement Does Justice to Intellectual Discourse, Not Condemn the Professor

-Elrayah Abdelgadir- I thank Dr. Omar Al-Qurashi for his response to my article: "The Most Famous and Dangerous Statement by Mahmoud Mohamed Taha: Is the Sudanese People Required to Burn to Learn that Fire is Hot?" I would like to clarify that my goal was not to condemn Professor Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, but rather to discuss a statement that I believe contains a cognitive and ethical issue worth examining. At the outset, I would like to clarify that my objection was not to Mahmoud Mohamed Taha's anticipation of the "Religious Obsession Group" reaching power—as other thinkers have done so, including the late Mohamed Ahmed Mahgoub—nor to his prediction of the group's uprooting, although uprooting has its own objective conditions. Rather, my objection was to describing the experience of the Kizan (Islamist) rule as "extremely useful" because it would reveal their true nature. First: The point of contention is not whether Mahmoud warned against the group. Dr. Al-Qurashi presented aspects of Mahmoud Mohamed Taha's biography and his stance on the project represented by the Islamic Group, recalling the books he wrote, the efforts he exerted to warn against them, and the price he paid for his positions. I do not deny any of this, nor do I believe that discussing his statement necessitates ignoring his biography or downplaying his sacrifices. However, these facts, despite their importance, do not resolve the issue I raised in my article. The fact that a thinker warned against a danger, resisted it, and paid a heavy price for it does not mean that every formulation he used to describe the consequences of that danger is free from problems. I did not say that Professor Mahmoud wished for the group to rule Sudan, nor that he was calling on people to empower them. My objection was to describing their experience as "extremely useful," considering what it revealed of their true nature and the awareness it led to among sectors of the Sudanese people. Here, one must distinguish between two things: a thinker anticipating a catastrophe and warning against it, so that people draw lessons after it occurs; and describing the catastrophe itself as a useful experience because it allowed them to acquire that knowledge. The first has no issue, while the second deserves questioning and review. Second: We learn from catastrophes, but should we make them a means of learning? I do not deny that the experience of the Salvation rule revealed to many Sudanese truths they had not realized before, and that suffering may awaken awareness and push people to review their positions. But drawing a lesson from a catastrophe does not mean that the suffering was necessary to acquire it, or that the knowledge resulting from it justifies the heavy price people paid. We learn from catastrophes, but we should not teach people through catastrophes; we draw lessons from pain, but we do not use pain as an intentional means to convey a lesson. This is the difference I wanted to establish. It is not wise to make the occurrence of a catastrophe a condition for knowledge, nor to justify exposing people to it under the pretext that they will learn from it. We may learn after it happens, but that does not prove it was necessary for learning, nor that the price the victims paid was an acceptable price. The responsibility of scholars, thinkers, and wise people is not limited to prediction—even fortune-tellers and astrologers try to do that—but their responsibility includes warning against dangers and working to prevent them as much as possible. As we mentioned, Mahgoub predicted, ten years before Mahmoud, the arrival of Turabi and his group to power, but his language did not carry "optimism" for the catastrophe of their rule. Rather, Mahgoub's style was full of compassion and tenderness for the Sudanese people regarding the consequences of the "Religious Obsession Group's" rule. Let us read together the words of Mahgoub, may God have mercy on him, which contain concern for the people of Sudan and fear for them from the rule of the Kizan: "I do not fear for Sudan from your smile or your dreams... smile as you please... and dream as you wish... but I fear for Sudan that one day you or one of your followers will ascend to power... and thus Sudan will lose its word... and the citizen their means of living, and will not find a decent morsel of bread... and will be hated by those closest to them." It is not fair to hold the people alone responsible for learning from harsh experiences while ignoring the responsibility of those who possess knowledge and the ability to warn and guide. Therefore, I recalled the Hadith of the Prophet (PBUH): "My likeness and your likeness is that of a man who kindled a fire, and the moths and the grasshoppers began to fall into it, and he was pushing them away from it, and I am holding your waistbands away from the fire, while you are slipping out of my hands." I know that the Hadith in its context speaks about salvation from the fire in the hereafter, and I do not present it as a direct text in analyzing a specific political experience. But its educational implication is clear: it is the duty of the advisor to prevent people from falling into disaster, not to let them fall into it until they learn its danger. Warning and prevention are at the heart of mercy, and they are no less valuable than drawing lessons after the damage has occurred. Third: The people are not a single body whose losses and gains are shared equally among its members. There is another aspect that I see as fundamental to this issue. When we say that the group's rule was useful because it revealed its truth to the people, who is this people that gained knowledge? And did all its members benefit from it to the same extent? The people are not a single body standing before its Lord to bear solidarity for everything that has befallen it. Its individuals are distinct human beings, each with their own life, rights, and destiny. Some died, some were displaced, some lost their families, homes, or sources of income, and some lost years of their lives before seeing the end of the regime they suffered under. Some of these did not even have the opportunity to witness the lesson that it is claimed the people drew from the experience. How can we count what some survivors learned as a cognitive gain that compensates for what others lost? And who among us has the right to decide that the death of these and the displacement of those is an acceptable price for others to become more aware? I do not say that every public benefit achieved after a tragedy is necessarily a justification for it, nor do I equate all forms of harm or responsibility. Rather, I reject moving from observing that people learned from suffering to considering the suffering itself a useful experience without any moral accountability for its price. We have seen in our public discussions how collective interest can be invoked to justify sacrificing individuals or groups of people. One of the examples raised in Sudan is the accusation against Sheikh Abdel-Hayy Youssef that he issued a fatwa allowing the killing of one-third of the Sudanese to save the other two-thirds; the Sheikh has publicly denied this charge, and therefore I do not present it as an established fatwa, nor do I equate this disputed incident with Professor Mahmoud's statement. I only bring it up to warn of the danger of a general logic that can creep into thinking: that the interest of the group or the benefit of the majority is used to bypass the rights of individuals. The question that concerns me here is not whether Professor Mahmoud called for sacrificing anyone, as I do not say that, but whether describing the rule of a regime—the worst and harshest in Sudan's history—as "extremely useful" remains sound and ethical when we look at the fates of the individuals who paid the price. The people are not a single block that can have some of its individuals sacrificed in the name of the interest of the others, and the victims are not sacrifices offered to reap benefits on the altar of the "public good," no matter how great the lesson drawn from their tragedy may seem. Fourth: Is the phrase "and they will be uprooted" a call to let the group rule? Here I admit that my previous formulation was not precise enough; as it implied that Professor Mahmoud's saying: "and they will be uprooted from the land of Sudan, uprooted" contains in itself a call to let the group rule and make the people taste the worst until their truth is revealed. I do not want to burden the phrase with what it does not necessarily imply, and I do not see that it alone is sufficient to prove that Professor Mahmoud was calling for empowering the group or wishing for the tragedies that resulted from their rule. I also do not ignore that he warned against them and resisted their project. However, correcting this implication does not mean retreating from the root of the question. Even if we understand the phrase as an expression of confidence in the disappearance of the group and the uprooting of its project, that does not resolve the issue of describing their experience as "extremely useful." We also must point out that uprooting has its objective conditions that must be met. Confidence in a good end does not alone answer the question of how to achieve it, nor the price people pay before reaching it. And saying that the group will disappear does not mean that people should let them rule, just as expecting the victory of truth in the end does not exempt us from the duty of resisting falsehood and preventing harm as much as possible. Fifth: Fate does not cancel responsibility, and a lesson does not justify a catastrophe. Dr. Al-Qurashi argued that what happened was what was ordained by the will of Almighty God, and that catastrophes may be reasons for knowledge. But belief in God's decree does not cancel the responsibility of human beings for their actions, nor does it turn injustice into a permissible act, nor does it make the occurrence of a catastrophe evidence that it was the only possible means for learning. There is a difference between saying that something happened by God's decree, and saying that those responsible for it are not accountable, or that its occurrence was necessary to achieve a subsequent benefit. I do not see that merely arguing with fate answers the moral question regarding human responsibility for preventing harm, or regarding the permissibility of viewing the suffering of others as an acceptable price for acquiring knowledge. As for Dr. Al-Qurashi's statement that fire itself is a means of knowledge, and his citation of verses in this context, this is a broader issue that deserves an independent discussion, and we hope to allocate time for it later, with God's help. Finally: Critiquing an idea does not mean condemning its owner. As for what Dr. Al-Qurashi mentioned about the insignificance of my contribution to serving the Sudanese people, I admit that and agree with it completely. I do not claim for myself any mentionable service, except for the "National Humility Project"—which I do not think Dr. Al-Qurashi has seen—in which I claim, with strong evidence from the Holy Quran and the Hadith of the noble Messenger, upon him be the best prayers and most complete peace, that humility is the greatest lifting force that Almighty God has granted to His servants; and it is available to us, now, to move from the humiliation of the Kizan to the safety of the shore, and the pride of the Almighty, the Merciful. However, the limitation of my contribution for the sake of the Sudanese people does not make the question I raise invalid, just as some people's glorification of a thinker does not make his ideas above criticism. A great thinker is not honored by granting his statements immunity from review, nor by assuming that his status and sacrifices prevent the possibility of error in some of what he said. Rather, his statements must be read in their context, and his ideas must be discussed seriously and objectively, whether we agree with them or disagree. Therefore, I certainly did not intend to condemn Professor Mahmoud, but rather I want to do justice to thought and truth. I believe that it is our right, and indeed our duty, to ask about the soundness of any statement, cognitively and ethically, even if it was issued by a person whom his students place in the ranks of the knowing ones, who received knowledge directly from God, and not just in the ranks of ordinary thinkers. Criticizing an idea is not a condemnation of its owner; and one of the most sincere aspects of self-respect, respecting conscience, respecting thought, revering the Almighty, and following His Messenger (PBUH) is to say to everyone whom some people see as above criticism: You are not above criticism, and criticizing you is not a condemnation of you, but perhaps there is good for people in it, and perhaps there is salvation for you in it. elrayahabdelgadir@gmail.com