What Human Rights means to me?

Maajid Nawaz

Having been someone who politically campaigned against Human Rights, and who considered them as part of a colonial onslaught against Islam and the Muslim world, I was delighted to take this opportunity on behalf of Amnesty International to write about what Human Rights now mean to me.

I used to be a leadership member of the international radical Islamist group Hizb ut-Tahrir. The basic aim of this group is to overthrow governments in Muslim majority countries with a view to replacing them with a global ideological Muslim state. This state would implement a medieval version of Islam blended with very modern political ideals. This totalitarian ideology is known as Islamism. Islamism rejects modern standards of rights and justice for a primitive blend of religious reasoning and political paranoia. We rejected democracy, Human Rights and Freedom as colonial tools designed to rid Muslims of the liberation that stoning, chopping hands and lashing would bring them. In fact, ironically this group’s name means, the Liberation Party.

On 1st April 2002, I was arrested, subjected to abuse and witnessing torture, and was eventually sentenced to 5 years in an Egyptian prison for my membership to this non-violent group. Not long after, Amnesty International adopted me as a prisoner of conscience. Initially, I saw this as political expediency, as part of a strategy to help get me out of prison, by using my ‘enemies’. Slowly, however, things began to change. This was mainly when we made personal contact with an Amnesty man, and now good friend, John Cornwell.

Hizb ut-Tahrir was embarrassingly yet consciously neglectful in adopting our cause, despite the fact I had dedicated most of my youth to this group. To them, such issues were a distraction from the struggle, and once detained each member should be responsible for themselves. Our own ‘enemies’, like John, were helping us through the goodness of their hearts, yet our brothers were leaving us to rot. In truth, they were even criticising us from their armchairs for not presenting a defiant enough face for our ‘enemies’ before the world’s media. This left us wondering what sort of human beings are created by this ‘divine’ ideology.

Every month or so, without fail, we would receive letters from John, listing for us all his humble efforts in securing our release. If no news was due on that front, he would tell us of his children, or their travels and their daily lives. For prisoners with no contact with the outside world, this was wonderfully refreshing.

Such glaring contradictions to the assumption I had made about ‘the other’ lead me to begin questioning what I had been taught about my religion, Islam. For four years I embarked upon a detailed study programme to learn more about my faith, and the more I learnt, the more I realised that Islamism, that modern cold political ideology, was not Islam, the religion of my heritage.

Soon after my release from prison I announced my unilateral resignation from Hizb ut-Tahrir, but more so I declared my intent on challenging their ideology head-on. In stating what Human Rights mean to me, I say: Human Rights as practically demonstrated by very good people such as John Cornwell is what helped deliver me from the fringes of hatred and paranoia, to an appreciation for my fellow human beings. I am now setting up a soon-to be launched think tank aimed at countering the Islamist ideology and presenting mainstream Islam as the alternative. I hope to amplify this simple message of humanity, and continue to remain inspired by a good man from Buckinghamshire.

I salute you Amnesty, keep up the good work!

Maajid Nawaz
Former prisoner of Conscience,
Mazra Tora Prison, Egypt.