Matthew Cravatta
Secular Rescue sees its fair share of endangered atheist activists at our door requesting our help and advice. Many of the more prominent social media activists relate to us the anger and threats that are hurled at them by online extremists as well as strangers whose fury knows no bounds.
But for the large number of reserved and reluctant activists who don’t make a splash on social media, the greatest threats they face are typically not from online mobs but rather members of their own families: fathers, brothers, and uncles obsessed with family honor.
Bahir, a young ex-Muslim from Iraq, is a teenager mature beyond his years. Last year, he applied to Secular Rescue asking for our immediate help. Bahir was bold in refraining from using an alias in the public sphere, but the primary source of his danger and fears came from his abusive Shiite family. Even his mother was a source of danger, and he provided us with the audio recordings to prove it.
When Bahir was a boy, he was full of questions about the world around him—as kids usually are—about nature, people, God, and the words and stories of the Qur’an, which he was forced to read as soon as he was able. He had a typical upbringing as a young Muslim, though even in his early childhood years, the questions in his mind gnawed at him. The seeds of doubt were there.
“Why did cavemen not have prophets?” he wondered aloud. Only God knows.
In too many Muslim-majority countries, such inquisitiveness about the dominant faith can bring swift and brutal punishment, especially for children. Fearing retribution, Bahir reverted to silence at home, instead covertly seeking answers to the questions that occupied him.
Years later, after his family moved to a nearby country, Bahir’s father learned of his son’s growing apostasy after an argument about human rights got out of hand. Bahir was severely beaten, kicked out of the house, and then forced to sleep in the basement. His father threatened to send him off to Syria. Bahir knew what that meant. He made an appointment at the local United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) office and brought with him the evidence he felt he needed to show the danger he was in. He requested asylum but was turned away because he was too young. He went to the police, who promptly placed him in a children’s shelter, where they confiscated his phone, wallet, and everything he owned. According to Bahir, the conditions and rules were as bad as prison. He wasn’t even allowed to venture outside into the sunshine.
Bahir went back home days later, and his father declared he intended to sell the house and take everyone back to Iraq. Bahir expected to be killed in Iraq, so he remained and found a place to live. Unfortunately, Bahir clashed with his landlord, who stole some of his aid money and even came at Bahir wielding two butcher knives. Those who learned of Bahir’s atheism threatened him with harm at every turn. There was no peace to be found, even away from his family, some of whom wished him dead.
Bahir bounced between various living arrangements hoping to find educational opportunities, work, and maybe even start his own business. When his father fell ill, he returned to his side and feigned a return to Islam. His father’s health improved, and his parents attempted to arrange his marriage to a cousin they accused him of violating.
The clashes re-escalated to the point of futility. When Bahir turned eighteen, he realized that he was no longer covered by his father’s visa and feared he would be forced to return to Iraq. He spiraled into darkness and anxiety. It was around this time that he connected with Secular Rescue, and our case manager looked into his situation and all the available evidence. Secular Rescue contacted third-party references to corroborate various details, and then we moved quickly to provide vital assistance that was used for medical care, education, and various immigration and legal expenses.
Then, in another heated argument, Bahir’s father beat him mercilessly, bashing him in the head and kicking him out to the streets yet again, leaving Bahir to fend for himself with next to nothing in his pockets. He was broken in every sense.
Depression and suicidal notions crept into Bahir’s mind; he tried to overdose but then called for an ambulance, which took him to hospital where his stomach was pumped clean and he began to recover. But having no money, he removed the pump from his throat while lying in the hospital bed with a slow and even tug, pulling it up and out. He fled the hospital.
Secular Rescue connected Bahir to one of our most trusted psychotherapists, who is an ex-Muslim himself and knows the anguish and pain of those like Bahir. He took Bahir under his wing and began sessions to help him with his depression and accumulated pain. A generous Secular Rescue volunteer sent Bahir some money for living costs and medication, and Bahir began to improve. He even found work and began to study for school entrance exams (which eventually were canceled because of the pandemic). With aid from Secular Rescue, he has shown steady improvement in his health and outlook. He hopes to be accepted into university, far from the antagonism and spite of his father—far from his physical and emotional abuse—with a whole future laid out before him.
“Ever since I started studying again, that’s all I’ve done,” he told us in mid-May. “I’ve found some labor every once in a while, and I booked my tests, but then [the president of the host country] announced a new lockdown. Now I’m waiting for this lockdown to end so I can get a job,” he said.
With his exams canceled again, Bahir won’t be going to college next year as was hoped, but he is now targeting the following year, which means he will need to survive another year in the new country. We will walk with him for as long as he needs us at his side. We are part of his family now.
It’s not just Bahir, of course. Secular Rescue hears from persecuted freethinkers around the world every day. In order to help even more people like Bahir, to grow our family, we need to grow our resources. That’s where you come in, and we know we can count on your support.
“I don’t know what’s next,” Bahir told us, “but everything is ok. I just hope to get away from this hellhole and then take my tests somewhere else. Thank you from the depths of my heart!”
