A woman's battle for the soul of Islam

But it seems like becoming a mother really made you aware of your own spirituality. Did you feel it was a catalyst?

What I write about in the book is the moment when I first see my son; I was in this haze of anesthesia, from an emergency C-section, and nothing had worked out like I'd planned. I did not have a husband beside me, and I wasn't even awake when my baby emerged into the world. I was giving birth in Morgantown, to a West Virginia hillbilly, right? But when my baby was in my arms, I realized that I was touched by heaven. He was the closest I was ever going to get to heaven on this earth, and I saw that all of the anguish and all of the pain had just evaporated. And he had not absorbed any of it -- despite every psychiatric study I'd read during my pregnancy that said that a mother in crisis is going to have a troubled baby. He was so perfect, and that was really when I just chose to be happy and to be free. I had gone so deep into despair that I knew that the alternative was just going to be a miserable childhood for my son.

So when my son, Shibli, arrived, I thought, "This is my choice. He's given me a new chance." And I did not cry. I thought that I was the prime candidate for postpartum depression. I thought that I was going to be on drugs as soon as he was free from my womb. I didn't think that I would breast-feed him, just because of all the chemicals that would be running through me to keep me medicated. But I didn't have to go on any drugs in order to stay balanced and happy and healthy. I simply made a choice.

How did that change of heart influence your decision to make the journey to Mecca?

Well, you are supposed to return from Mecca newborn. Mecca is supposed to wipe away all the sins, all the darkness of your life. I don't judge myself -- I leave that to others and the greater forces in this world -- but I knew that I wanted a new start, that I had to have a new start. I felt a great responsibility over my son having chosen me to be his mother. I've had my crisis in faith as woman in Islam, but I always had a deep, deep belief in the spiritual and the divine. And the fact that Shibli chose me to be his mother, when he could have chosen so many women who would have given him the two-parent household, and none of the issues of religion and society and culture -- but he chose me. And I got courage from that.

You learned you were pregnant the same week Daniel Pearl went missing in Karachi. Did your friendship with him -- and then his murder -- play a role in pushing you toward doing the hajj?

When Danny came to my house [in Karachi] on Jan. 22, 2002, I was just trying to go on the hajj. I thought that I was just going to go as a journalist for Outside magazine and report it as a really cool trip. I was going to try to camp out under the stars and ride a camel to Mecca. But when I had to confront the evil that is practiced in the name of Islam, I knew I had to go to Mecca to actually figure my religion out. I knew I had to go there to figure out whether there was a place for me in my faith.

I couldn't believe it when the investigators told us that Danny's captors had prayed the mandatory five-times-a-day prayer while they plotted his kidnapping. The prayers are supposed to be the litmus test of a good Muslim, and I certainly didn't pass them. I realized that I was so different from these men who claimed to be great Muslims. I would never hurt a fly; I believe what the Buddhists teach -- that a fly could be an incarnated ancestor. And I've always tried to live honestly and with kindness. Just having known the beauty of Danny, it was in such stark contrast to the darkness that these men were perpetuating in the name of Islam.

I knew him as a human being and a friend -- I even read every single one of his e-mails, trying to find clues to his kidnapping, and I don't think many people can say that they don't have dark moments in their e-mails. But he didn't gossip, he didn't trash people, he didn't talk bad behind people's backs. And he was joyful, and I know that what was driving him as a journalist was the desire to make the world a better place. So the fact that people could completely twist Islam, to kill him because he was a Jew, was to me, so unconscionable. When I returned to Morgantown, I was just so angry. Everyone claims that Islam is a peaceful religion, but I had to find out if there was truth to that. The hajj literally represents a journey to the most sacred place in Islam, and I had to see if that place really was sacred.

In your book you also allude to the fact that the growing power of right-wing, fanatical Islam is just one version of the dilemma faced by countries around the world -- including the U.S. -- where moderates are being challenged by the extremist political voices. What message do you hope to impart to your non-Muslim readers?

This is book written by a woman in Islam, but it is a book meant for people of all faiths and all genders, because in each one of our lives we are all challenged by forces that are trying to preach intolerance, extremism, and even hate. What we're facing in Islam manifests itself in so many forms in this world, and basically my book is a call to action to all people to stand up within our faiths and our cultures and our societies against intolerance. And the stakes are so high, because the demonization of any people just feeds the cycle of violence in this world. My book is a testimony to my efforts within my faith, but we each have all of these challenges. In American society, and British society, in the West and the East, in Islam and Christianity and Judaism and Hinduism, even Buddhism, people are trying to denigrate our earth for power, control and ego, and we can't let it happen.

Next Page: "Danny [Pearl] trusted the men who kidnapped him, and I came back from Karachi with serious trust issues"

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