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| Islamic apologist and writer Ziauddin Sardar |
I'll let you make your own judgements... As for me, it is example of hypocrisy of Islam. They can insult and give name of the founder of our country to a donkey and we can't insult and give name of their prophet to some sheep or goat.Pure hypocrisy.
Here are excepts of this book related to name Genghis.
"Mecca
The sacred city by Ziauddin Sardar.
The following week, on the
sixth day of the Islamic month of Dhu al-Hijjah, the month of the Hajj
pilgrimage, my small expeditionary party assembled in front of the Hajj
Research Centre. My companions in this long walk to Mecca included my friend
Zafar Malik, our Yemeni guide Ali, and our prized donkey, who we named Genghis
after the great Mongol king, famed for his temper and propensity to lash out
and kick people for no rational reason. Genghis, we were soon to discover,
intended to live up to his namesake....
Early the following
morning we set off again and had walked over fifteen kilometres by the
afternoon when Genghis started to misbehave. Ali admitted the beast was growing
more and more cantankerous. At which point Zafar spotted an animal standing on
top of a small hill in the distance. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘I bet that’s why Genghis
is excited.’....
Ali thought it
advisable to frighten off the itinerant donkey and, leaving Genghis in our
care, he sped off determined to shoo away the interloper, shouting to us: ‘Hold
Genghis as tightly as you can.’ But Ali’s efforts seemed to have no effect. He
hooted and yelled, threw stones, even tried to catch the beast. All to no
avail. Yet he seemed not in the least crestfallen by failure when he returned.
‘It’s all right,’ he announced. ‘That other donkey is a male.’...
Relieved, we loosened
our hold on Genghis. The other donkey nonchalantly sauntered a little nearer.
Genghis brayed with what sounded like a loud victory declaration, bucked,
offloaded his burden, and ran off in ardent pursuit.....
Zafar surveyed the
spilled water as it rapidly spread, before evaporating into the sun-baked
earth. Genghis meanwhile caught up with the object of his desires, and the two
moved closer. Zafar pressed his lower lip between his teeth, looked
reproachfully straight at me and said: ‘I think Genghis is making inappropriate
physical contact with the other donkey. I suppose,’ he added, ‘that the old
Bedouin who sold him didn’t tell you that Genghis is gay.’
It took us more than three
hours to track down and catch Genghis. A couple of hours later we arrived at
the outer limits (the Miqat) of the holy area, known locally as the haramain.
Genghis proved to be the
slowest and most reluctant of climbers. Every few steps, Ali had to intimidate
him into movement. At one point Zafar stopped and turned accusingly to Ali:
‘What are you doing? We are supposed to be in ihram. In a state of peace, love and grace. You can’t beat
that donkey,’ he told him. Genghis seemed to have caught the drift of this
statement and now simply refused to move. He stood motionless. We tried to coax
him with nuts and dried fruit. He ate the food but stood his ground. Zafar
tried to pat and cajole him. It merely incited Genghis to turn and go into
reverse, and he began to descend the mountain. We followed him. Once off the
mountain, Genghis started running towards the motorway. We ran after him. The
harder we tried to catch him, the faster he ran. Eventually he ran straight
into the Mecca Intercontinental Hotel.
Located on the Old
Jeddah Road on the outskirts of the city, Mecca Intercontinental was the only
five-star hotel in Mecca in those days. It has a theatrical tent-like structure
modelled on Bedouin marquees. There was an old well inside the front enclave of
the hotel that was preserved as a site of historic interest. Genghis ran
straight past the well into the crowded lobby. The staff at five-star hotels is
trained to deal with any eventuality: everything from late checkouts to natural
disasters. A donkey running wild in the lobby was something quite different.
They dropped whatever they were doing and ran after Genghis, trying to catch
him, while the guests looked on aghast. Eventually, several porters managed to
overpower our rampant beast and proceeded to evict him and us from the hotel.
Zafar tried to plead with them. ‘It is the Hajj season, brothers. Time to show
friendship and love to all creation,’ he argued.
‘You love the donkey
if you want to,’ replied the head porter angrily. ‘But do it outside the
hotel.’
We duly removed
ourselves from the inside of the hotel and tied Genghis to the ancient well in
the courtyard. I knew it was the right moment for us to part company. This
latter-day Mongol marauder in donkey guise was slowing us down, caused too many
problems and seemed to have no appreciation for the higher purpose of our
adventure. Donkeys just don’t do ihram. Ali suggested he should take him to our camp in Mina
in a pickup truck. Making a reluctant pact with modernity seemed our only
option.
The pickup truck
reversed into the hotel. The driver joined Zafar, Ali and myself to install
Genghis; but as usual Genghis was having none of this. We pushed. We pulled. We
even tried to pick him up. Genghis would not be budged. Then Ali asked all of
us to stand back. ‘Hajj or no Hajj, there is only one way to deal with a
donkey,’ he announced. He rolled up his sleeves, spat on his hands and rubbed
them together. His face a picture of determination, he picked up a large
walking stick and made his way to where Genghis stood. Zafar made as if to stop
Ali, and then changed his mind. I became the personification of the three
monkeys – simultaneously saying, seeing and hearing nothing.
A few minutes later
Genghis was standing in the pickup truck. Ali sat next to the driver and waved
goodbye. First slowly, and then swiftly, the truck made off towards our
research camp in the hills of Mina.
I took a final step,
secured a foothold on the flat top of the mountain – and came face to face with
Genghis. Even in the darkness, I recognized the derisive smirk on his face.
Genghis was laughing
at us."
By Shagai
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