Without Ehsan Masood’s wealth of experience, I might never have got this project off the ground. His generous advice throughout the writing of this book nudged me in directions I had not previously given thought to, and I am immensely grateful for his time and efforts. Ehsan also introduced me to my agent Peter Tallack, whose invaluable assistance helped to make a first-time author presentable to my publisher. Heaven’s Bankers is a reality thanks to the patience of the team at Constable & Robinson, and in particular Andreas Campomar Elizabeth Stone, Clive Hebard, Kirsteen Astor and Florence Partridge.
I am indebted to the grandfather of the modern Islamic finance industry, Sheikh Hussain Hamed Hassan, who has patiently endured my questions over the last decade. His exceptional mind and force of personality have been a beacon for the industry, and he remains pre-eminent among his peers. Along with my fellow industry colleagues, I pray for his health and to continue to receive his guidance.
Three other individuals have helped to shape my thinking: Iqbal Khan as the inspirational leader who introduced me to Islamic finance, Tarek El Diwany for being the voice of my inner conscience, and Mahmoud El-Gamal for helping me to recognize my dissonance. Islamic finance is not an easy discipline. It is technically involved and politically fraught. When we enter the industry, we may be trying to hark back to the ideals of merchant capitalism from a bygone era, but instead find ourselves in conflict with modern notions of a greedy, self-centred, debt-obsessed, survival-of-the-fittest financial jungle. Sometimes we give up trying, and manage farms and restaurants instead. Sometimes we are forced to drop out of the system and comment on it from afar. And sometimes we acquiesce. Iqbal reminds me of a supplication whilst struggling against something difficult: ‘Oh Allah, nothing is easy except what You have made easy. If You wish, You can make what is difficult easy.’
A number of people interviewed for the book declined to be named but were of critical importance to the narrative. They ranged across professions, from journalism to banking, law and Islamic jurisprudence. I thank them all for their generous time and unique insights. One in particular had the courage to speak out when he felt it mattered most, Mohammed Khnifer. Were it not for his youthful energy and fortitude – and of those like him – we might never encourage financial institutions to mend their ways.
My wife Sadia Irfan and brother Nabil Irfan diligently read and reread the manuscript, offering helpful suggestions and constructive criticism. Whilst Sadia was the voice of common sense and a long-suffering support during the book’s gestation, Nabil’s love of reading and finance – often at the same time – meant I had the perfect target reader. If this book is vaguely readable, then they must share the credit. Nick Phipps, too, was helpful and supportive in ensuring the final polish was applied the right way.
To my three children, thanks for being my biggest fans. Imaan, may this book be a motivation for your own literary aspirations. Sana, keep testing me with that impeccable and feisty logic. And Sulaiman, your irrepressible energy released me from my desk.
The Samadiites were a part of my life for eleven years, and it is Tamir Mohammed who brought us together, building a community without parallel, our own Bayt al-Hikma. A man of hayya, Tamir reminded me of a prayer reported to have been offered originally by the first Caliph, Abu Bakr as-Siddiq: ‘I ask Allah to make me better than the people think of me, and for Him to forgive me for what they do not know about me, and do not take me to account for what they say.’