Pondering conversion

This is not an obituary, but reflections that have been troubling me since the demise of the poet Kamala Suraiya and various reactions to her life, particularly one incident in her life that has provoked extreme reactions – her conversion to Islam On one hand, some people wearing the tag of secularism, especially those born in the Muslim community, have been either dismissive of her conversion as folly. M. N.  Karassery went on to attribute this action to a rather popular piece of gossip about her fondness for a younger Muslim leader, while Tasleema Nasreen wrote a fairly vitriolic obituary in the context of her conversion. She also tried to demonstrate that Kamala Suraiya regretted her decision to convert because of fear of reprisal from Muslim Fanatics. Meanwhile most obituaries glossed over her conversion as a passing phase and continued referring to her by her erstwhile name Kamala Das or her malayalam pen name Madhavikutty. A typical example would be an obituary in the New York Times which refers to her conversion thus;

“Born to a prominent Hindu family, she converted to Islam in 1999 and for a time called herself Kamala Suraiya. Highly publicized, her conversion drew criticism, for a diverse array of reasons, from Hindus, Muslims and feminists.”

The fact that her family (all of them non-Muslims) made sure that her funeral rites were Islamic was not factored in by any of these critiques. On the other hand, her conversion has been glorified and attributed to a deep thinking self. While many others have dismissed the whole process as something innately private.

Somehow, most of us, across ideological spectrum, seem extremely uncomfortable with the notion of conversion – particularly between religions. I still remember my “secular” moral self being peeved off and contemptuous, when Kamala Suraiya announced her conversion to Islam in December, 1999, particularly as a person who had traveled the road in the reverse direction. To my mind the variant reactions to Kamala Suraiya’s conversion that have marked the obituary columns is reflective of this collective discomfort. I needed to undertake an exercise that would help dispel some of my personal confusions on the issue.

In 2003. at a consultation organised by the Mumbai based Centre for Study of Secularism in Society in the aftermath of the Gujarat pogrom, I heard of the news of the conversion of a friend who had been to Law School with me to Islam. I was informed that this conversion was also supposed to be a political act in the context of the evolving discourse on Islam. As I recollect this discussion was tempered by our versions of political rationality and bordered on condescension towards this action. Whatever be the reasons for this friend’s conversion, he continues to live a contented life with his partner, practising Islam, his brand of politics and teaching at a South African University

Very recently, the same friend who had condescendingly conveyed the above news to me announced his decision to convert to Islam. He had flirted with Christianity and Buddhism prior to this decision. This friend happens to be an important academic and writer with considerable following. This decision shocked me, as this was taken during a period when our relationship was fiduciary and extremely intimate and I fancied having considerable influence over him. All my attempts at dissuading him were in vain. So were my attempts at analysing the process that resulted in this decision. Though he made it out to be a natural progression in his life, I could sense how overwhelming and cathartic the decision was. In my mind there was no rationale for his conversion, at the same time I could read multiple reasons ranging from love, lust and spiritual quest that could have prompted this. But, he was completely at peace with himself, his politics sharper. His writings started to show sharper criticism of Muslim fundamentalism.

Despite, my personal consternation with this friend on his decision, what irked me more was the reaction of other mutual friends to his conversion. Almost all of it condescending with a tinge of suspicion – most of it all the more incredulous as he had decided to convert to Islam. Reasons for his conversion were dismissively speculated on and flayed. The conversion was contested with suspicion by many Muslim groups as well – reminiscent at a smaller level of the fracas unleashed by Kamala Suraiya’s conversion in 1999!

The above narratives reflect only conversions by relatively socially-empowered people. The tribulations of people converting for empowerment vis-à-vis dignity and livelihood to any religion ranging from Buddhism to Islam can only be imagined. An example of such reaction can be seen on the justifications offered for the recent spate of anti-Christian violence in Kandhamal, Orissa But, what is interesting is the unstated similarity in opposition and condescension to conversions between the self-styled conscience keepers of the Nation, Culture and Religion and proclaimed secularists.

A few months back, as part of a panel discussing “Changing Gods” on conversion organised by Open Space at Prabhat Road, Pune, this similarity was reinforced. Though most of the discussants were clothed in secularism and vociferously appalled at the Kandhamal violence – they were distinctively reluctant to admit to the constitutional freedom to convert. Doubts were raised regarding capability of making “informed” choices faced with the alluring material choices offered by the imaginary “proselytizer. This was in an oblique way reinforced by the apologies rendered by Father Cyril Debruslais of De Nobili College, Pune for the recalcitrant proselytizer. The sole dissenting voice came from another member of De Nobili College – who tried to portray the complexities of people trying to balance faith, dignity and livelihood and the hegemonic obstacles to this balancing act – from the State and the Civil Society. At the end of the discussion, I discovered that this participant was a second generation Dalit Christian!!!

Watching the televised images of Kamala Suraiya’s funeral at the Palayam Juma Masjid in Trivandrum, my father, no fan of hers, commented that this was an apt moment in history – where religious differences were being publicly negotiated. But, I am not that sure, and my “secular” morality is still trying to come to terms, wondering…..