William Burchell Bashyr Pickard, Poet and Novelist, UK
EsinIslam
Heralding New Muslims:
A Personal Account
Of Revert Muslim:
W. B. Bashyr Pickard B.A. (Cantab),
L.D.(London), an author of wide repute whose
pen-production include Layla and Majnun, The
Adventures of Alcassim, and A New World, tells his
tale of his quest for Islam after suffering sever
injuries in WWI.
By William Burchell Bashyr Pickard
"Every child
is born with a disposition towards the natural
religion of obedience (i.e. Islam); it is the parents
who make him a Jew, A Christian or a Magian."(Saheeh
Al-Bukhari).
Having been born
in Islam, it was a good many years before I realized
this fact.
At school and
college I was occupied, perhaps too intensely, with
the affairs and demands of the passing moment. I do
not consider my career of those days brilliant, but it
was progressive. Amid Christian surroundings I was
taught the good life, and the thought of God and of
worship and of righteousness was pleasant to me. If I
worshipped anything, it was nobility and courage.
Coming down from Cambridge, I went to Central Africa,
having obtained an appointment in the administration
of the Uganda Protectorate. There I had an
interesting and exciting existence beyond what, from
England, I had ever dreamt, and was compelled by
circumstances, to live amongst the black brotherhood
of humanity, to whom I may say I became endearingly
attached by reasons of their simple joyous outlook
upon life. The East had always attracted me. At
Cambridge, I read the Arabian Nights. Alone in
Africa I read the Arabian Nights, and the wild
roaming existence I passed in the Uganda Protectorate
did not make the East less dear to me.
Then upon, my
placid life broke in the First World War. I hastened
homewards to Europe. My health broke down.
Recovering, I applied for a commission in the Army,
but on health grounds this was denied to me. I
therefore cut losses and enlisted in the Yeomanry,
managing somehow or other to pass the doctors and, to
my relief, donned uniform as a trooper. Serving then
in France on the Western Front, I took part in the
battle of the Somme in 1917, where I was wounded and
made prisoner of war. I traveled through Belgium to
Germany where I was lodged in hospital. In Germany, I
saw much of the sufferings of stricken humanity,
especially Russians decimated by dysentery. I came to
the outskirts of starvation. My wound (shattered
right arm) did not heal quickly and I was useless to
the Germans. I was therefore sent to Switzerland for
hospital treatment and operation. I well remember how
dear, even in those days, was the thought of the Quran
to me. In Germany, I had written home for a copy of
Sale's Quran to be sent out to me. In later years, I
learnt that this had been sent but it never reached
me. In Switzerland, after [the] operation of [my] arm
and leg, my health recovered. I was able to go out
and about. I purchased a copy of Savary's French
translation of the Quran (this today is one of my
dearest possessions). Therein, I delighted with a
great delight. It was as if a ray of eternal truth
shone down with blessedness upon me. My right hand
still being useless, I practiced writing the Quran
with my left hand. My attachment to the Quran is
further evidenced when I say that one of the most
vivid and cherished recollections I had of the Arabian
Nights was that of the youth discovered alive alone in
the city of the dead, seated reading the Quran,
oblivious to his surroundings. In those days in
Switzerland, I was veritably resigne a la volonte de
Dieu (Muslim). After the signing of the Armistice, I
returned to London in December 1918, and some two or
three years later, in 1921, I took up a course of
literary study at London University. One of the
subjects I chose was Arabic, lectures in which I
attended at King's College. Here it was that one day
my professor in Arabic (the late Mr. Belshah of Iraq)
in the course of our study of Arabic mentioned the
Quran. "Whether you believe in it or not," he said,
"you will find it a most interesting book and well
worthy of study." "Oh, but I do believe in it," was my
reply. This remark surprised and greatly interested
my teacher in Arabic, who after a little talk invited
me to accompany him to the London Prayer House at
Notting Hill Gate. After that, I attended the Prayer
House frequently and came to know more of the practice
of Islam, until, on New Year's day, 1922, I openly
joined the Muslim community.
That is more
than quarter of a century ago. Since then I have
lived a Muslim life in theory and practice to the
extent of my ability. The power and wisdom and mercy
of God are boundless. The fields of knowledge stretch
out ever before us beyond the horizon. In our
pilgrimage through life, I feel assured that the only
befitting garment we can wear is submission, and upon
our heads the headgear of praise, and in our hearts
love of the One Supreme. "Wal-Hamdu lil' Lahi Rabbi
‘l-'Alameen (Praise be to God, the Lord of all the
worlds."