In 2009, my old friend Saleem Mahmood asked me, “Have you made an account on Facebook?”
In response, U asked, “Is it a new bank?”
He laughed and provided some basic information about Facebook. It seemed interesting to me, so I asked him to create an account and teach me how to use it. Thanks to Saleem Bhai’s kindness, he fulfilled my wish right then and there.
In the early days, I thought it was just a site for uploading and publishing pictures. So, for the next four and a half years, I used it like that. I would sign in once every three or four months, upload a picture, and leave. Occasionally, I would comment on a picture from our 284 friends.
At the beginning of 2014, our very kind journalist friend Waheed Murad asked me, “Why don’t you write on Facebook?”
I looked at him in surprise. It was a completely new concept for me, one that our hearts did not accept. Thus, I did not accept Waheed’s suggestion. But then it seemed as if Waheed made it his mission to make us write on Facebook. Meanwhile, another journalist friend, Sabooh Syed, also started insisting on it.
As a result, in March 2014, I decided to write on Facebook. We don’t do anything randomly; we do it with proper planning. So, with Waheed and Sabooh’s help, we sent friend requests to about a dozen accounts that wrote daily on Facebook. We closely observed their work and carefully read the comments on their posts.
Some of these writers were journalists, while others explored religious topics. But what caught our attention the most were the commenters. The comments reminded us of the jesters from the medieval times who would take sides in conversations between two sensible people and create a ruckus.
Some commenters had a positive approach, but the majority were disappointingly negative. So, I made our first decision in our strategy: we would first expose these negative commenters and then kick them out of our friend list. We used Facebook’s block button so freely that we practically became “Blocko Khan.”
One very embarrassing observation was that most of the vulgar commenters were from madrassas. Each one of them fancied themselves as sachet-packaged mujtahids. They issued fatwas and also used foul language. They even formed gangs like thugs and attacked writers who wrote on religious topics, especially targeting followers of Javed Ahmed Ghamidi.
So, we made two major decisions about writing. First, we would thoroughly desecrate these sachet-packaged mujtahids, so it would be hard for them to distinguish between dirt and sanctity. Second, we would guide the youth away from negative activities like posting vulgar comments to positive actions like writing articles.
Since we were also madrassa-educated, we knew that if you said something against the mood of madrassa people, the first thing they would do is character assassination, saying things like “he was a terrible student” or “he doesn’t pray regularly.”
With a basic understanding of psychology, we knew that a flaw is only seen as a flaw if someone else points it out. For example, if someone says, “Raiyatullah Farooqi only prays Jummah and isn’t seen in the mosque the rest of the week,” the listener might be shocked and say, “Astaghfirullah, Astaghfirullah! He seemed so pious.”
But if you yourself admit, “I can’t keep up with all the prayers, but I do attend Jummah,” then no one would care. So, we started writing by sharing our story, which revolved around two activities during our student days: watching movies and reading novels—both of which are considered major crimes in madrassas. We expanded on this point, expressing it poetically:
“I’m not dependent on the fragrance of flowers;
My fervor tears my robe apart.”
The biggest weakness of these sachet-packaged mujtahids is that they are devout followers of their elders. If any of their elders’ opinions clash with the Quran and Hadith, they would even abandon the Quran for their idols. So, after revealing our flaws, we adopted the strategy of Prophet Ibrahim (A.S.) and started breaking their idols. For instance, we revealed that Mufti Taqi Usmani’s longest article is in praise of the tyrant General Zia. He has listed more virtues of General Zia than of any of his teachers or sheikhs. Then, a few days later, we would praise Taqi Sahib from another perspective. If the sachet-packaged mujtahids questioned us, saying, “Weren’t you criticizing him just a few days ago?” we would reply, “Mufti Taqi Usmani is not infallible. We will criticize where he is wrong and praise where he is right.”
The result was that many sachet-packaged mujtahids started thinking from a new perspective. Consequently, from 2014 to 2017, hundreds of sachet-packaged mujtahids who used to hurl vile abuse at us now consider us their teacher and have a loving relationship with us. The real benefit is that their activities on Facebook are no longer negative.
In the first year, we took another step: we posted two or three posts stating that it is not an achievement to clap for another writer and comment “Guru, you nailed it!” The real achievement is to make others clap for you, and that will only happen if you start writing yourself.
We remember that most people were surprised, as if they couldn’t believe they could write too. So, we explained that, like other creative abilities, the ability to write is something a person brings from the womb; a teacher only polishes that skill. Then, we started a series titled “For Young Writers.”
Allah Almighty was very kind, and a large number of young people became interested, resulting in about a dozen and a half hidden writers emerging. The atmosphere on Facebook changed dramatically. We remember that a writer named Zafar criticized us indirectly after a year, accusing us of making ordinary people into writers. But we didn’t care.
Our strategy included another important aspect: since the major sects, especially our own Deobandi sect, were harshly criticizing the Ghamidi school of thought, we stood firmly with that school of thought. We kept telling our own sect with great consistency that if you want to make scholarly disagreements, please do so, but stop the fatwas and abusive language. Until March 2017, we defended them. As a result, an unusual thing happened: the Ghamidi school of thought mistakenly thought that we were influenced by Ghamidi Sahib’s teachings, and our own sect began to think that we had switched camps. But we didn’t care.
What deeply disappointed us was that the Ghamidi school of thought followers adopted the same behavior we were criticizing in our sect. Specifically, two gentlemen from Abu Dhabi and Gujranwala went so far as to character assassinate the Companions of the Prophet. That was the moment when we completely separated from them and cut off all contact, even blocking them on social media and on the phone.
We had predicted in 2018 that the Ghamidi school of thought was a project launched by the U.S. during the War on Terror to support its cause, with all the funding coming from abroad. A large investment is required for Ghamidi Sahib’s programs that air on major channels every weekend, which is beyond the capacity of any sect’s donations. These programs have no advertisements, and TV channels are such that they don’t even show the adhan if it’s during a parliamentary session. They immediately switch to ads to make money and return to the session after the adhan. Since Ghamidi Sahib’s programs have no ads, it means they are entirely paid programs. Therefore, remember that when the War on Terror ends, this project will also end, and Ghamidi Sahib’s programs will be off the screen. Thankfully, that’s exactly what happened. The “real Islam” project ended with the U.S. withdrawal.
Now we are turning our attention to a new target. We haven’t made a final decision yet, but we are intrigued by how, in the name of religion, the so-called “scholars” on Facebook don’t prioritize da’wah or education. All their religious service is devoted to “tooth-breaking.” Some are busy attacking Ghamidis’ teeth, while others target Deobandis. Some focus on the Barelvis’ teeth, while others eye the Ahle Hadith’s teeth. This activity is so popular because, in today’s world, “intellectual showboating” is the worst form of showboating. Showcasing clothes, cars, or social status pales in comparison to “intellectual showboating.”
Take Ghamidi Sahib, for example. His most viral clips are those where he enjoys debunking the opinions of early jurists. His opponents are the same. This craze for showboating is causing the common Muslim to become disillusioned with religion, thinking that no one is actually teaching the faith. Everyone is indulging in absurd, convoluted discussions that have fueled sectarianism among Muslims for centuries.
Among the well-known figures on Facebook, only Mufti Zahid Sahib offers both religious education and da’wah on his wall. The rest are busy raising controversial issues daily and then seeking applause for their “tooth-breaking” achievements. These so-called scholars include jesters who aren’t troubled by the denial of God but will come after you if you deny Ibn Arabi or some other idol, as if you’ve attacked a pillar of faith. Are these elders also part of the faith? Is believing in them a requirement of Allah and His Messenger (PBUH)?
Ignorance has reached such a level that these so-called scholars don’t even know that by promising to protect the Quran, Allah has essentially preserved the religion of Islam until the Day of Judgment. They think the preservation of Islam lies in the fatwas of their respective sects. That is why when Ghamidi Sahib criticizes the Deobandi fatwas or Taqi Sahib’s opinions, they go after Ghamidi Sahib like goons. However, we have always told our friends that the Quran and the Prophet’s Sunnah are alive, as are the books of Hadith. They are all preserved. Therefore, the attack is not on Islam but on your opinions and beliefs, which you consider equivalent to Islam. This is because you have adopted the same path as the Jews, thinking that their scholars are the custodians of their religion and whatever they do is protected by Allah.
It is as if we Muslims have also become like the Jews, feeling that the interpretations and opinions of our elders are the religion itself. This is a delusion. The reality is that Allah Himself has protected the true religion, the Quran, and the books of Hadith. Until the Day of Judgment, these will remain in their true form, and anyone who wishes can access them. So, these scholars are in need of religion, but religion doesn’t need them.
We have always stood by this stance. That is why no matter how much we revere any scholar, we criticize them when needed. We criticize Javed Ghamidi Sahib just as much as we do Mufti Taqi Usmani Sahib. We may not always be right, but we have nothing to gain from or lose to anyone in this world. We only fear Allah, and we don’t bow to any mortal.
