I wrote a eulogy for Dr. Mourad Wahba, and I received more than twenty thousand beautiful and refined comments. But suddenly, as if coordinated, a wave of attacks began: accusations of disbelief, claims that it is forbidden to show mercy to a non-Muslim, labeling the respected philosopher a Zionist and an atheist, and calling for both him and me to burn in Hell and meet a wretched fate—using words my pen refuses to repeat.
It is true that these messages did not exceed 2% of the total, but the language, hatred, sharpness, and violent wishes for burning and torment were so uniform that it was as though they all came from a single reference source.
I reflected, paused, and analyzed, and I found that no matter how different religions may be, how diverse beliefs become, or how many languages humans use to address God and one another, extremists resemble each other almost to the point of identity.
They have the same faces even if the names change, the same tone even if the books differ, the same mentality even if the symbols and banners vary—and a degraded language full of insults toward others.
Single-minded thinking, rigid application, rejection of difference, refusal of pluralism, and violence in hatred.
The extremist reduces the universe to a simple binary: with us or against us, truth or falsehood, salvation or hell, believer or infidel. In his mind there is no space for the natural human zone in which people think, err, and learn.
Extremism has become a new religion, transcending cultures and faiths—a religion with its own rituals, its own preachers, and its own fanatics.
Therefore, we can say with confidence:
“Extremism is the only religion whose followers come from all religions, despite their different scriptures and gods—because their true object of worship is hatred of anyone who is not one of them.”
They do not even ask for mercy for someone who represents three-quarters of humanity.
Extremism does not come from religion; it comes from hijacking it. At its core, religion is a call to love and compassion. But when it falls into the hands of ignorance and fear, it becomes a banner of hatred.
The fanatic always speaks in God’s name while hearing only his own voice. Thus, the religion that came to refine the human being becomes a weapon for destroying him, and the message that came to unite people in love, mercy, tolerance, and justice becomes a pretext for dividing them.
Pluralism is not a threat to faith—it is proof of the greatness of the Creator who made us different.
An enlightened believer does not fear the diversity of paths to God, because he knows that truth is greater than the language we describe it with and wider than the rituals we confine it to.
The Qur’an made reason the instrument of faith, not its enemy. God says:
“Will you not reason?” (Al-Baqarah 2:44)
“Do they not reflect upon the Qur’an?” (An-Nisa’ 4:82)
“Say: Are those who know equal to those who do not know?” (Az-Zumar 39:9)
“And in yourselves—do you not see?” (Adh-Dhariyat 51:21)
These and dozens of other verses address the human being as a free mind, not a programmed creature, and link him to God through awareness, not blind repetition.
In the Qur’an, reason is not the enemy of faith—it is the wing by which faith flies.
The true believer is the one who uses his mind to understand the text, not the one who closes the text over his mind and relies on others who monopolize interpretation, claiming superior knowledge.
Christ says in the Gospel of John:
“Why do you not understand what I say? Because you cannot bear to hear my word.”
And also:
“They have eyes but do not see, and ears but do not hear.”
Diversity is the will of the Creator. Whoever reads religion with an open spirit sees that difference is part of creation, not a deviation from it.
God says:
“If your Lord had willed, He would have made mankind one community, but they will not cease to differ.” (Hud 11:118)
And:
“O mankind, We created you from a male and a female and made you into peoples and tribes that you may know one another.” (Al-Hujurat 49:13)
Pluralism is not a test—it is a sign of the vastness of the Creator who embraced diversity of creatures, minds, temperaments, and faiths.
The Qur’an states clearly:
“If your Lord had willed, He would have made people one nation, but they continue to differ.”
And Christ says in the Gospel:
“In my Father’s house are many dwelling places.” (John)
Both texts affirm that diversity is a foundation of creation, not a deviation from it—and that divine truth is too vast to be monopolized by a single understanding or a single path.
Thus, rejecting difference becomes a form of rebellion against God’s will, because you deny what He Himself willed of diversity in thought, nature, color, language, and belief.
A religion that plants hatred is not from heaven, and a faith that does not produce mercy is not faith, but fear dressed in holiness.
When we understand that extremism is not religion but a disease, we realize that the true measure of a person is not whether he is religious or not, but whether he is aware, loving, and reconciled with difference.
The true believer does not need to exclude anyone to affirm his faith; he sees in the diversity of faces and hearts proof of God’s mercy and vastness.
Extremists may agree on rituals and outward practices, but religion is not what we perform—it is the intention that lives within us.
Rituals are a path, not a goal—a means of connection to the Creator, not objects of worship in themselves. When the means becomes the goal, meaning is lost and the spiritual spring runs dry.
A prayer without humility of the heart is not a meeting with God, but empty bodily movements. A fast that does not refine the conscience is hunger without spirit. Worship that plants hatred of the different is separation from the Creator, no matter how many prostrations it contains.
The essence of religion is mercy, awareness, love, and justice. Rituals are bridges to these meanings, not walls that separate us from others.
God does not want outward appearances, but pure intention, deep understanding, and good conduct. How many clung to the shells and lost the light—and how few realized that true religion is not what we say with our tongues, but what we plant in our hearts of goodness for all people, even those who differ from us.
