From Racism to Islam*
“Miracles Do Happen”
- Marc Springer
My journey to Islam was not the usual one. Most white
converts I have met usually come from a liberal and very
open-minded back ground. My upbringing was far from
this. Both of my parents were in the US military and my
upbringing was very strict. My father was very racist,
and because of this, I also was very racist myself until
about the age of 24. I can remember as a child listening
to my father lambaste and attack Arabs and Muslims and
bash their religion, their way of life, and their race.
As this was the way I was raised, this is the position I
took as well.
I had a very
troubled childhood, as the above can only begin to
describe. My father was an alcoholic and very physically
abusive. I grew up with the constant fear of violence
against myself, my mother, my brother and my sister.
Coming from such a background, it only seemed natural
that I would seek a group of people to replace the
family life that I did not have at home. The problem is,
with the way I was raised, the people I sought this
companionship from were the worst of the worst.
For several years, I was heavily involved in the racist
skinhead movement. As with anything else in my life, I
was not content to be a follower, but always enjoyed
taking the lead. My involvement in the neo-Nazi skinhead
movement was the same. I was well known and feared in
the town where I grew up.
My longing
for family and friends, however, never killed the seed
in my heart that told me what I was doing was wrong and
unjust. I remember a Mexican schoolmate of mine asking
me, when I was 16, “Why do you hang out with those
losers, you are better than that.” He was right, but I
guess there was a part of me that, even though I hated
my father for what he was doing to the family, wanted to
be just like him. That is where my racism and hatred
came from.
The
situation at home became worse for me, so I was forced
to move out on my own. I think from this moment this is
what sealed my future as a Muslim getting away from my
father and the hatred that he felt, and experiencing the
world and people on my own. The next few years were
pretty rough on me and I continued for many years on the
path that I had started on. I was drinking, doing drugs,
and getting into very serious trouble with the law. All
the while, all of the people I had sought to take the
place of my family turned out to be the worst sort of
people: violent, dishonest, and untrustworthy.
I left my
home state when I was 23, and, for the first time in my
life, I was able to experience life without the
overwhelming figure of my father hanging over me and the
malign influence of my friends. I started to see all of
the carefully crafted lies that my life was based on
crumble around me. I slowly saw all of the truths that
my life was based on unravel. It is at this point that I
started to question everything in my life, including my
religious beliefs. I took the stance that everything in
my life was suspect and had to be re-evaluated.
I had a girlfriend at the time whom I later married. She
had also been active in the racist skinhead scene that I
was involved with and I was always worried that I might
offend her with my new ideas and way of thinking. I had
always been an avid reader, and I took the next couple
of years to read everything I could get my hands onto.
This passion of mine led me to collect a small library
of books that now consists of over a thousand volumes,
everything from Kant and Descartes to Tariq Ramadan and
Edward Said.
During this
time, the Intifada was raging in Palestine. My father,
racist and anti-Semite though he was, had always
supported the Jewish state. I now think that he hated
Jews, as well as anyone else who wasn’t white, but he
hated the Arabs more than he hated the Jews, so that is
why he supported Israel. As I was rethinking everything
I had been taught when I was younger, I decided to take
a closer look at this struggle in the Middle East. I started
reading general books on Middle Eastern history and the
national politics of the area. Again and again I found
that I was having trouble understanding both the history
and politics of the area because I didn’t have any sort
of understanding about Islam. As a child, I had attended
church from time to time, but didn’t have a firm
grounding in any religion. My father had a hatred of
Islam, so as a teen I had shared this hatred without
having a clue as to what Islam was about or what Muslims
believed. It goes without saying that I had never met a
Muslim in my life.
So I started
to look into Islam, its history and its beliefs. At this
time, the Internet was gaining in popularity so I used
both print and Internet sources to help me gain an
understanding on the basics of Islam and its history. I
was living in Washington State and was not aware of a
Muslim community there, so there was really no one with
whom I could talk. Shortly after this, my wife’s job
transferred her to England, so that was all about to
change.
When I got
to England, my interests strayed for a while. I was in a
new country with a long and rich history, so I spent a
few years exploring this history and traveling all over
Europe. But from time to time, events would draw my
attention back to the Middle East and the politics
there. I was now in a country with a long-standing and
well-established Muslim community, although the town I
lived in didn’t have any such community. I began now to
read in earnest about Islamic beliefs, ideology, and
history. I also started reading the Qur’an .
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