Material included in this book first appeared in the Albanian Catholic Bulletin, San Francisco Faith (San Francisco), the Forward, Illyria, the New York Post, the New Criterion and National Review (New York), the Weekly Standard (Washington), the Spectator (London), the Wall Street Journal Europe (Brussels), Reforma (México), Middle East Quarterly (Philadelphia), Partisan Review (Cambridge, Mass.), and Anderson Valley Advertiser (Boonville, Calif.). Citations for most of these publications, some of them republished on the Internet, are included in the Bibliography.
I also published extensively on these topics in Bosnian- and Albanian-language periodicals: Ljiljan, Oslobodjenje, Valter, and Većernje Novine (Sarajevo), and Dita, Ekskluzive, and Interesi Nacional (Prishtina). These citations are not included in the Bibliography.
This book would never have appeared without the guidance, even from their graves, of Kenneth Rexroth and Octavio Paz, eternal models of conduct. I could never know Ida M. Tarbell, but her spirit, which is immortal, also aided me.
Paul Nagy, friend and mentor, first invited me to the path of Ibn Arabi. Gjon Sinishta, founder of the Albanian Catholic Institute in San Francisco, taught me about God, the Balkans, and the unity of the monotheistic faiths, may he rest in peace. I owe much to Baba Rexheb Beqiri, founder of the Bektashi Teqe in America, whose tears of exile watered the soil of my native land, and whose book opened my eyes, may the blessings of merciful Allah (swt) be upon him on the last day. I owe even more to Shaykh Muhammad Hisham Kabbani of the Most Distinguished Naqshbandi Order of Sufis, very beloved teacher and friend, whose companionship freed my heart, may the blessings of merciful Allah (swt) always be upon him.
I am also grateful for the generosity and hospitality of H.E. Rexhep Boja, Grand Mufti of Kosovo, my friend, and his colleagues at the Alauddin medresa in Prishtina. The medresa fulfilled a noble work throughout the Communist era, when it was the only institution in the world training Albanian Muslim clerics. Wrecked by the forces of Milošević, its reconstruction has been a major task for Kosovo’s Islamic community. Finally, I appreciate the personal blessings I have received from H.E. Hafiz Sabri Koci, Grand Mufti of Albania, and H.E. Magomed Albogachiev, Grand Mufti of Ingushetia. May Allah (swt) reward them all generously.
A Jewish teacher who is an example for the best Muslim and Christian scholars, Professor Moshe Lazar of the University of Southern California, is due all thanks. Gratitude also belongs to David Kamhi, the chazzan of Sarajevo, mi morenu, beloved teacher and comrade. I owe more than I can express to Professor Muhamed Nezirović of the University of Sarajevo, one of the awliya, whose magnificent studies of Sephardic culture brought me back to Sarajevo, and his colleague, Professor Kemal Bakaršić of the University of Sarajevo, also among the awliya for his work of preservation, whose companionship kept me in Bosnasaray.
I embrace Memnun Idžaković, who offered me the hand of true friendship, and Alija Behram and Amir Talić, who each survived a different level of hell, and who taught me much. I greet Mehmed Halilović, my second great friend in Sarajevo. Mehmed Husić “opened the way” for me. Kemal Muftić, who also admitted me to the grace of his friendship, Mensur Brdar, a great colleague and mentor in Bosnian journalism, and Enver Ćaušević, whose solidarity was unflinching, are true mujahidin.
I salute, from afar, Nedžad Ibrišimović, whose words were eloquent beyond any other in our time, and made me weep with anger; and from nearby, Semezdin Mehmedinović, another mentor and colleague, whose writing comforted me and turned my rage to passion. This book would be inconceivable without Abdulah Sidran, who told me about my past life, and who is also a great mujahid; Ademir Kenović, who taught me everything about courage; Hadžem Hajdarević, the model of poetry in our time, and Omer Pobrić, the heart’s musician.
To Džemaludin and Nedžad Latić, among the best of the believers—may they be rewarded throughout their lives and afterward. Likewise, Baba Mumin Lama of the Bektashi order, my friend in Kosovo and another of the awliya, is always in my thoughts. I offer my gratitude to Sheh Xhemajl Shehu Rifa’i, as well as to my friend and brother Sadik Pelinko Ulqinak, murid of Sheh Xhemajl and possessor of the Secret of Secrets.
My friends and colleagues Adem Demaci, Daut Dauti, and Haqif and Shpresa Mulliqi made everything happen for me. Honor belongs to the families of Sheh Myhedin Shehu and Sheh Zejnelabedin Dervishdana, martyrs (shuhadaa) of Islam during the Kosovo liberation war, whose tears and devotion inspire me at every moment, and whom I never forget. Honor is also due President Aslan Maskhadov of Chechnya, who provided me with indispensable guidance; Roy Gutman, another “opener of the way”; Adam Bellow, friend and editor; Richard Torre, my best collaborator; and the late Nelson Brown, my colleague at the Voice of America and friend, as well as my meticulous fact-checker.
Finally, however, responsibility for the opinions expressed here rests on me alone.
Although this book focuses on a sequence of events beginning with Ibn Taymiyyah centuries ago, it is based in large part on Internet research. In the 1990s, Islamic fundamentalists took to the Net with the enthusiasm previous totalitarians showed in their use of radio and movies. But Hitler and Stalin did not have to contend with the immediate appearance of countersystems of broadcasting and film production. Vast amounts of information that might otherwise have remained completely obscure to the West, transmitted only in oral or printed form, from mouth to mouth and from hand to hand, by groups of enthusiasts among Muslims, are accessible by the use of a search engine. This does not mean that rare printed and manuscript sources of Islamic history, some of them endangered by the vandalism of Serb and Russian extremists as well as by the Wahhabis, have ceased to be important. But the Internet publication of polemics, and distribution of videocassettes, by Wahhabis, “Salafis,” and, more important, their opponents, made the composition of this work easier.
In the information age, no tyranny goes unchallenged. The research interface with the Internet, and the diachronic jumps necessary to understand this history, gave the project the strange feeling of a novel by Philip K. Dick or a motion picture like The Matrix—a sense of authentic cyberjournalism. To emphasize, little presented here is based on governmental intelligence or investigative work of the old kind. On the other hand, an insightful man once wrote, “the most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.” There is a paradoxical term used by a certain California author: “public secrets.” This book is a compilation of “public secrets”—a concept that remains among the ultimate Sufi mysteries of our time.
Inconsistencies in the transcription of Arabic names in English in this book reflect the diversity of sources.