In the last few months, Afghanistan, despite having several thousand American and European troops stationed within its borders, has received relatively little attention from the international media. In the past few weeks, however, with the case of Abdul Rahman, that all changed. Rahman, an Afghani citizen, was recently charged with converting from Islam to Christianity 15 years ago, which, under certain versions of Islamic law, is considered to be a capital crime, punishable by death.
The case was subsequently dismissed, although probably more because of international pressure from leaders whose troops are holding Afghanistan together than from the generosity of the Afghan government. Rahman recently was granted asylum in Italy, a country less likely to harass him because of his beliefs. But this case represents more than just a few men in a country halfway around the world. It also hinges upon difficult issues of religious freedom and questions of how the state can, and should, respond to matters of faith.
Rahman was arrested in February, and charged with apostasy, or religious conversion, which, in the eyes of some, violates a commandment by the Prophet Mohammad that if someone changes their religion, they should be killed. Afghani officials, including federal judges and prosecutors, accused him of treachery against the state, and called for him to be hanged. Certainly, this may seem barbaric to Western (and, for that matter, to my own) eyes, and it may be an incorrect interpretation of the Koran. But if this case was solely an issue of religious law, I don't think Rahman would have received this degree of international news coverage. Islam is not the only religion to outlaw conversion, and Judge Ansarullah Mawlazezadah, in an interview with the BBC, said, "(I) will invite him again because the religion of Islam is one of tolerance. We will ask him if he has changed his mind. If so we will forgive him." This opening would seem to mean that the court had given Rahman an opening for clemency.
Many cultures, political doctrines and religions, ranging from socialism, to Islam, Christianity and Judaism hold the idea that the society's well-being is often more important than any individual's. There is nothing inherently wrong, or right, with this view. Indeed, every culture tries to preserve itself, be it through rules about religion, as in the Rahman case, mandating Flemish as an official language in Belgium or calling baseball the national pastime of the United States. But other societies take the opposite perspective, and state that the right of the individual supersedes the right of the collective. This forms the heart of what is now known as liberal democracy, and its influences can be found in the works of Ayn Rand, George Orwell and the Republican Party.
Afghanistan, and Abdul Rahman, stand between these seemingly contradictory philosophies. The Afghani constitution, which was written in consultation with Western authorities, opens by declaring that Afghanistan "shall be an Islamic Republic," a clause that, to some, has been interpreted as meaning that the country will be run by Islamic, or Sharia, law. But the constitution also contains sections that state that "Liberty and dignity ... and Freedom of Expression are inviolable." Which principle wins?
In this situation, the Afghani government decided that acquiescence is the better part of valor, at least when your country is being held together by foreign militaries. Whether this was a principled or a practical stand is somewhat irrelevant. But the reconciliation of collective and individual rights cannot be accomplished by fiat, regardless of whether that fiat comes from NATO troops or Islamic clerics.
Instead, Afghanistan's leaders and citizens must determine the shape of their own nation. Except for literature, there are no pure examples of either a purely individual or purely collective society. There are many examples, from Quebec, to Israel, to India, of countries that have, to varying degrees and varying levels of success, managed to integrate the two. Afghanistan, if it wants to be both an Islamic state and a state that respects the rights of individual citizens, must do the same. Abdul Rahman was only the most recent example of this struggle. I doubt he will be the last.
Joey Borson '07 wants to read Ayn Rand in Flemish. If he understood Flemish.
