Press Kit

I knew the odds were against me, but I had an uncanny feeling that I was destined to go to the United States of America. Something was drawing me toward this adventure. I felt that it was a time for new beginnings, a turning of a fresh page in life; a new birth.

Over my three decades of living in America, this pattern of men and women experiencing colossal failure, yet rising from the ashes to experience unparalleled success still lives on. While their secret to success is almost always the ability to persevere, the American willingness to offer a second chance, and the receptive freedom found in her systems, be it politics, business, academics, entertainment, or sports, serves as a powerful and unique catalyst for success. This desire, even eagerness, of Americans to root for the underdog is singularly special and demands further examination.

I couldn’t take it anymore. This was not the life I’d dreamed of. Nor was this the American college experience I expected. At some point during our fourth or fifth argument that night, I snapped. I wanted the pain and conflict to end, and I most definitely wanted Lindsey to feel guilty for wrecking my life. I had seen a set of knives in the kitchen. I pushed Lindsey back with my right hand and opened the knife drawer as Lindsey screamed, begging me to stop. Seconds later, I was bleeding profusely from my left wrist. Dizziness overcame me, and I fell.

Before I lost consciousness, I overheard Lindsey trying to explain to the 911 operator that there had been an accident. She was crying, which felt good. The next thing I knew, paramedics were taping my wrist shut and asking me whether I wanted to pay the hundred and fifty dollars to ride in the ambulance or if I could make my way to the hospital on my own.

“I can’t see you anymore.” Her voice was now quivering.

“But why? I’m sorry for being late to the concert,” I pleaded.

“It’s not the concert. It’s us. We can’t do this. You are a Muslim and I am a Christian, and relationships have to go somewhere.” She was now crying as she spoke.

I blurted out, “Okay, okay, I was going to tell you this at Christmas as a gift, but I’ll tell you now: I have decided to become a Christian.”

Silence hung in the air while what I had just uttered sunk in. I had never dreamed of saying that up to this point. It was like an out-of-body experience for me. I wanted to step outside myself and say. “You are gonna do what? Did you say what I just heard you say?”

In hindsight, I clearly didn’t understand what I was saying. Looking back, there was an irony to it. I offered my conversation as Christmas gift to her when it was I who would receive the greatest gift to be bestowed on mankind – salvation.

I noticed another change in how people related to me. Everywhere I went in Christian circles, I was a novelty. People wanted to hear my testimony as a former Muslim. It inspired them, and I believe it reaffirmed their own faith. I became adept at telling my story. Bible churches in North Texas operated like well-oiled machines, so often I had only four to six minutes between the last worship song and the sermon to share my story. I much preferred the Sunday school question-and-answer format that followed my testimony, where I could interact directly with the audience. It felt natural and right, and I loved it. Here I was, a mere thirty-six months removed from living a life surrounded by the rites and rituals of Shia Islam, and now I was speaking in front of hundreds of mostly-Caucasian audiences in churches across Texas, answering questions about my conversion to Christianity. It was surreal.

Now that I was learning that converting to Christianity entailed a whole lot more than pats on the back and potluck lunches in affluent North Texas churches. God and I had to have a serious conversation about how I was to handle the realities of being a Muslim convert and facing what was likely to be a hostile environment.

I was devastated to learn that both my parents were facing persecution and insults from the entire family. They had failed to raise me to follow the “right path.” The fact that I was adopted was cited as a reason, I was told. Town gossips gleefully whispered juicy details about my misdeeds and my parents’ equally horrific failure to raise their only son to be a good Shia Muslim. The fact that my dear parents were being judged and persecuted felt worse than anything anyone could have done to me personally. It was second only to their desperate pleas with me to label my decisions as mere “crimes of passion,”

The law allowed for wide latitude for anyone, usually a member of the majority community, to accuse someone of uttering something against the Quran or the Prophet. Very little evidence was needed with the local police to jail the accused. And the courts, it seemed to me, were obliged to comingle Sharia law with traditional jurisprudence when dealing with such matters. And in some cases, especially in rural areas, the issue never made it to court. The tribal or village jirga (council) served as a judge, jury, and executioner. The penalty could even be death. According to the article, the law had become a convenient vehicle to settle personal vendettas. This made me both sad and concerned as I could see how a simple difference of opinion about faith matters could erupt into a false accusation.

I concluded that America was unique when it came to freedom of entrepreneurship because of its justice system. I loved the symbolism behind the blindfold worn by the lady holding the scales of justice. In many countries in the world. Including my country of birth, it is impossible to achieve business success without bribery. They go hand in hand. Yet what good is such ill-gotten success if one must live with the guilt of it? The laws in America discouraging corruption give entrepreneurs the confidence that their ideas and property will be protected, and their bids to prospects will be judged on merit. Such confidence fuels the entrepreneurial spirit. Any man or woman could put their hand to the plow – to grow, seek, build, invent and innovate. In my view, such freedom was unique. And I could not wait to have my shot at this dimension of the American Dream.

Freedom to pursue happiness simply means that the very real barriers that exist in culture and organizations – barriers created by human nature and bias – are removed or at the very least reduced, so one can run his race with an equal chance to cross the finish line based on his skills, talent, and performance. To me, that’s what the American Dream is all about. I am truly thankful to the many men and women who helped clear a path for me to run my race. What about you? Whose path are you clearing? Over the years, as I became more experienced in dealing with governments, I found this to be a consistent theme. America was unique and more transparent, by far, than Pakistan. And just as the electoral process has its imperfections, so does our legislative process, particularly at the federal level, as our nation and Washington continue to become more polarized. But I will take gridlock over oligarchy any day.

I remember thinking that this was going to be a complete game-changer when it came to the West relating to the Islamic world. How was America going to react? How were brown-skinned people like me, who looked much like Mohamed Atta, the pilot of the first plane, going to be treated? 9/11 was a test for many in the American majority community. The fundamental principle of judging people based on their individual actions and not as a collective group was tested and, in this author’s view, prevailed. I believe that most of the Muslim world does not subscribe to the terrorist brand of jihad. That said, whether Al Qaeda and its terrorists were following the true teachings of the Quaran bears further examination. Was it possible that most of the god-fearing and peaceful Muslims like my parents were following a completely different version of the faith than that of Osama Bin Laden? I found it very difficult to reconcile the two, but that’s a topic for another book.

For a few weeks after 9/11, I lived in fear as I heard stories of beatings and harassment of “Middle Eastern-looking” people in New York City and other places. I chose not to go to the airports and drove to client meetings as far away as San Antonio, a five-hour dive. But considering the magnitude of the tragedy, these incidents of persecution were isolated. Overall, most hurting Americans showed amazing restraint. Eventually, I resolved to trust that Americans were going to hear the words of President Bush: “In our anger and emotion, our fellow Americans must treat each other with respect.”

Finally, because these Judea-Christian values arguably serve as vital underpinnings for the founding principles upon which America stands, I believe it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to transplant American democracy into countries that do not share such values. Unless a nation’s values are inextricably linked to biblical values, a nation doesn’t achieve true democracy, because if the people don’t believe that liberties come from their Divine Maker, then freedoms are offered selectively, based on man-made criteria. And off we go down the slippery slope.

The fabric of American culture is changing rapidly, often being shaped by fear. Fear is a powerful force. It drives us toward our natural inclination: self-preservation. I am concerned that the political turmoil we are witnessing could lead America to a circle-the-wagons mentality and even to the curtailments of certain rights for select people-groups. I believe that such actions could be like releasing the proverbial genie from the bottle and would be impossible to recapture.

On the other hand, the terror events, the constant hate rhetoric we hear against America, the past defections to ISIS by Westerners, and the apologies and appeasements made to other nations by some of our political leaders might cause some to wonder whether those who hate us are right. Maybe America isn’t such as special nation after all. Maybe others do have the right to hate us.

In this book I share why I believe those thoughts are incorrect. I want Americans to understand that not everyone who comes from a Muslim country hates the USA. Hopefully my story and the freedoms I outline will motivate you to share the same American values and truths with other immigrants coming into the United States that I discovered many years ago.