Where Do the Mu'tafikah Fall?

Alright, so after the deeply clarifying (yet somehow still bewildering) chapters that were 52 and 52, we have a more fleshed out picture of the alignments in the war between Atonism and Jes Grew. On one side, we have Jes Grew, polytheistic African tradition, Papa LaBas (for the most part), improvisation, and joy.  On the other side, we have Atonism, Western Civilization, Judeo-Christian tradition, Moses, authority, and structured "high art."

Now, since I'm unable to discuss a topic without it being directly relevant to me, I posit the question (and this was what the blog post was gonna be about before arguing with Vikram): "Where does Islam fit?"

While we were reading the former half of Mumbo Jumbo, I generally assumed Islam fell on the side of Jes Grew. Although their relationship is tense, Abdul Hamid, the only explicitly Muslim character, is generally on the side of Papa LaBas and undoubtedly opposed to Atonism. Islam has often been associated with Black Americans, with the first Muslim Americans being African slaves as well as with many black nationalists rallying around the Nation of Islam in the second half of the 20th century. The Wallflower Order spoke a lot about the Crusades and Templars, in which the Atonists would have been vehemently opposed to (and massacring) Muslims. And Islam is just generally unapproved of by what is a predominantly Christian Western Civilization, making it an ideal foe to the Atonists and ally to Jes Grew.

This becomes complicated once LaBas gives his whole spiel revealing the long-winded history of Jes Grew and Atonism. Although Moses is commonly associated with Judaism and Jesus with Christianity (both figures of Atonism), they also play major parts in the Quran as well. And LaBas doesn't appear to make great distinctions between the Abrahamic traditions himself, indicating that Islam could very well be aligned with the Atonists.

Additionally, speaking from personal experience, orthodox Islam is no less regulatory and doctrinarian than its Christian or Jewish counterpart. Abdul Hamid's character also seems to fit this idea of Islam being more aligned with Atonism as well. Abdul Hamid is a strict traditionalist, unyielding in his rigid and sexist rules.

So then, where does that leave Islam? Before you answer, let me just throw another wrench into the works. Where are the Mu'tafikah? I ask this because Reed specifically chooses to use the Quranic word for the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah, despite the fact that they show up in other Abrahamic texts. Those inhabitants were crushed by God in the texts of all three Abrahamic religions for performing acts of sodomy. They're sinners. And in Reed's novel, they're specifically sinners within the Islamic religion. Therefore, it seems that, regardless of where Islam stands, the Mu'tafikah are aligned against Islam.

So let's say Islam is on the side of Atonism as LaBas' tale suggests. This would make for a pretty satisfying explanation. The Mu'tafikah would consequently be aligned by Jes Grew, against Islam, which follows from their fight against Atonism. Islam would be aligned with the similar traditions of Judaism and Christianity. A few questions still remain with the case of the Crusades and Abdul Hamid, but overall it's a pretty tight narrative.

But let's also consider the possibility that Islam is on the side of Jes Grew, as much of the book seems to suggest. Then it appears the Mu'tafikah are consequently aligned against Jes Grew. This explanation also has some weight to it considering that LaBas seems to be at odds with Berbelang. Although the Mu'tafikah are obviously not aligned with Atonism, it appears they may still be hindering Jes Grew.

This is just a thought but in that case, Reed might be aiming at the younger, more radical generation of black nationalists, claiming that they are in fact a hindrance to the larger black population. (Perhaps a criticism of the Nation of Islam as a corrupted form of the actual religion.)

I suppose I could just be, as Adi said, falling into Reed's trap. He sets before us this incredibly intricate narrative, supported endlessly by events that somehow seem to fit the ridiculous and clearly fictional puzzle. But it seems so real and fleshed-out that we think we can hold it up to a microscope, break it down to its barest parts, and have it all make sense. I've become the Guianese art critic - trying to make sense of it all, trying to cram it all under a single narrative, and analyzing it with an aggressively academic eye, when Reed's whole point is to not do that.