Faith Becomes a Human Being!

The introduction opens with a barrage of questions: what is life's purpose, what suits a human being best, can someone without inner peace succeed? The answer arrives at once: «Life does not accept a vacuum», and revelation is «a prescription that will cure all our ailments». The essay «Rebelliousness or Nobility?» unfolds this through a Turkish pun — âsilik (rebellion) versus asillik (nobility): in an age where rebellion is the going currency, true nobility means taking refuge in God from tyranny, like Asiya, the wife of Pharaoh — a subtle nod to the author's own name. The intended audience is stated plainly: this book is not for those who say «forget it all, do as you please».

Here the book's first serious problem appears. The author approvingly quotes Ümit Meriç: «a society that prays has no need of psychology; a society that gives alms has no need of sociology». For an author who says she trained in family counselling and sex therapy to adopt this view without comment — especially where she ties depression, via «the most consumed drugs», solely to a lack of faith — is misleading and risky from a mental-health standpoint.

«Deceived in God's Name» and «Faith Is Trust!» offer the book's best metaphors. The Qur'an is humanity's «user manual» and fitra our «factory settings»: a broken television goes to a repairman, and a human being must likewise be returned to the purpose of creation. Her most apt criticism is here too: the Qur'an that is kissed tearfully and raised to the forehead, recited for healing, carried as a charm, yet removed from life and turned into «a book read only to the dead, the sick and the troubled». This call — to read the Qur'an with understanding — is the book's strongest and most sincere thread.

«Should We Ask or Interrogate?» calls asking questions «the greatest act that opens the way for our humanity and freedom», but immediately sets a limit: a question is good if it brings the heart to rest, while «interrogating» increases disbelief rather than faith. The generalisation that «since science replaced knowledge, love, respect and compassion have vanished», and the claim that Ernest Renan said «science will henceforth write the creed», come without sources. In the end, an essay declaring that «true knowledge is another name for freedom» treats scientific knowledge with suspicion.

«Donkeys Loaded with Books» applies the Qur'anic image from Surah al-Jumu'a to those who do not live what they read, and ends with a fine line: «One should not sulk at mirrors.» But the story of the Simurgh and the thirty birds at its core is attributed to Rumi's Masnavi — when it actually comes from Farid ud-Din Attar's The Conference of the Birds. Errors like this show the text was never properly edited.

Near the end, «The Thing You Call Civilisation Is a Monster with One Tooth Left!» — the title is Mehmet Akif's famous line, though he is not credited — is the author's sharpest essay against both the West and Muslim society. It openly attacks superstitions: drinking water in which prescriptions have been soaked, seeking help directly from the Prophet, expecting cures from salawat, and abuse disguised as «imam marriage». That courage is valuable, but the same essay's rhetoric that «the West is devouring all civilisations» lacks nuance. Overall, this is a sincere collection of counsel for religious readers, but repetitive and badly in need of an editor.

• More than forty short, standalone essays
• Dense Qur'an and hadith references, quotation boxes in the margins
• Rhetorical questions, exclamations and litanies of «Blessed are those who…»