A Reply to Hate: Forgiving My Attacker. David Tucker

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СКАЧАТЬ did not feel threatened or vulnerable. She just kept on saying “I feel the mercy of God has touched you today”. But then she said something that is perhaps meaningful to people of faith but may not be fathomable by others. She said, “I feel an Angel held his hand”, “his” being the attacker. That was the feeling running deep in her heart. She knew the knife could have gone anywhere in my neck, and she felt that in her heart as this man thrust the knife in me, an angel grabbed his hand. I am not sure, but I think it is fair to say that Muslims and other people of faith tend to rationalise events in their lives based on their faith and the strength of their beliefs. We believe that there is a God, we believe in angels and we believe that there is a higher purpose in life. I know that this does not sit comfortably with some people, and I also know that some may view this as downright stupid. But that is who we are. Such belief is imprinted within our psyche and makes Syrsa and I who we are. The two of us differ in many ways from each other, but when it came to faith, I told Syrsa that this was exactly how I felt. Not the slightest hint of anger came to my mind, or indeed any negativity. I just felt I was blessed, and that God was merciful to me.

      But then, and as we sat there talking, Oaiss walked in. He had been at his computer and he asked us if we realised what was happening on social media. Of course, we didn’t. “They’re starting to get angry” he told us. I had not read much of what was being circulated online, and in all honesty, I really did not feel it was time to engage yet. However, my son’s intrusion triggered something within me right there. I had sensed the anger earlier as I was leaving the hospital and now this. The calmness that we were feeling was not being mirrored by everyone else. On the contrary, it was exactly the opposite, and this did not sit well with me at all. I told my son we needed to send a message right now. It needed to be simple, clear and explicit; we did not want anyone to retaliate or to promote anger or hate. I remember that the message ended with “My father is not angry; he doesn’t want anyone to be angry on his behalf.” I just asked Oaiss to pass it to his friends and let them pass it on. By now, that air of contemplation and calmness was gone, and I felt very early on that I was already being forced to take a stand. If there was anger and frustration surfacing that evening, it was because of that. It just did not seem to me to be the right time to have to deal with that sort of behaviour, but there was little I could do about it. On reflection, and despite how I felt, I am grateful that this surfaced early as it had the effect of resetting my mood. Whether I liked it or not, my stabbing was somehow bigger than just ‘me’ and I felt I needed to step up. This changing perspective may well have had a big impact on how I started to think and behave.

      Later that night we were visited by two police officers checking to see if we needed any help, probably just before midnight. We assured them that we were fine. We didn’t feel scared or vulnerable and by then we were again feeling calm. It may have seemed strange, but there we were like any other day ready to go to sleep. We switched everything off and went upstairs to bed. After all, it was Monday the following day and we needed to get ready! As Syrsa went upstairs that night, she literally hit the bed and fell asleep. So did my sons. But I could not sleep. Whichever position I took in bed, within a couple of seconds I was in agony. Even though I knew how to handle my pain, still I was in agony. I tried resting on my back, my side, curling the pillow and so many other positions, but the pain just kept on banging through. To some extent I now empathise more with my patients. Previously, I would perhaps wonder what they meant by “agony”, but now I knew. I think I took another couple of codeine tablets in the middle of the night and this at least eased the pain enough to allow me to think. I was trying hard to remember what this man said to me. But also, I was thinking through what could have happened if that knife had touched my spinal cord. The overwhelming sense that I had was of being grateful to Almighty God. The Arabic phrase is الحمد لله (“al-hamdulillah”), an expression meaning “All praise be to Almighty God”. These two words roll easily off the tongue. Throughout the night I was repeating الحمد لله. It somewhat temporarily distracted me from the pain, until I moved again. All night I was thinking “Thank God I’m still alive, thank God it wasn’t worse”. But one other thought that occurred was that since the moment I was stabbed, I had not done anything good, anything thankful. To simply say “Thank God” does not really cut it, so I promised God that as soon as I woke up in the morning, I would make a donation. But before that, I still needed to fall asleep. I remember I asked God, “Help me sleep”, “Come on God help me sleep”. But pain is pain, and no matter what I did, I could not get into any comfortable position. My head felt so heavy and the pain went on throughout the night, until finally, about 7:00am, I dozed off.

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