Ayaan Hirsi Ali - Infidel

I was born in a country torn apart by war and grew up in a continent mostly known for what goes wrong rather than right. Measured by the standards of Somalia and Africa I am privileged to be alive and thriving, a privilege I never can and never shall take for granted. For without the help and sacrifice of family, tutors, and friends, I would not have been any different from my peers who struggle just to survive.

I wish to start with my mother who held me close and refused to believe that I would die for being born too early and underweight. My grandmother who taught me the art of survival. My father who insisted that I go to school. My late sister for her friendship, her laughter, her sense of adventure. My brother for his never-ending sense of hope.

I want to acknowledge my teachers at Juja Road who, besides the regular curriculum, were dedicated to instilling discipline in us, and some of my teachers at the Muslim Girls School, such as Mrs. Mumtaz, Mrs. Kataka, Mrs. Owour, Mrs. Choudry, and Mrs. Karim, who saw something in me.

A special thanks to Jimo Musse and the Italian doctor at Nairobi hospital whose name I have forgotten but whose face I shall never forgettogether they saved my life. I am grateful to my stepmother, half-sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles who welcomed me to their homes, counseled me, and pampered me for nine long months in Mogadishu.

I would not have become the woman I am without the openness, hospitality, and opportunity that Holland offered me as a nation. The kindness and civility with which I was welcomed into Holland was profound. I felt at home from the very beginning. The INS officials, the police, the social workers at the refugee centers, my language teachers, the volunteers, the landlords, and many more who helped me when I first entered Holland left a deep impression on me of how civilized a nation can be. My deepest gratitude goes to my Dutch familyJohanna, Maarten, Irene, and Janwho offered me a real home in my new country. Also, they helped me learn how to become a self-sufficient Dutch citizen and overcome my own cultural prejudices.

Maarten van der Linde, my first professor at Hoge School in Driebergen, will remain dear to me for his devotion to giving vocations to as many nonnative Dutch as possible. Without Maarten I would not have taken those admissions exams, let alone pass them.

My tutors at Leiden introduced me to my faculty of reason. I particularly enjoyed the classes given by Professor Rudy Andeweg, Professor Paul t Hart, and Professor Henk Dekker. Dr. Henk Kerns history workshops were both a challenge and a pleasure to attend. Professor Paul Cliteur made Introduction to Law seem like an entertainment class, and I am grateful that he and his wife, Carla, later became very good friends. I have since discovered he is better at law than cooking.

For all our disagreements on issues of multiculturalism, Islam, and integration and religion, I will remember Paul Kalma for his honesty and help. He protected me from the threats of the Islamists and from the pen of those who tried to slander me. I thank Margo Trappenburg, Bart Tromp, and especially Arie van der Zwan.

I want to acknowledge leading Dutch feminists: Cisca Dresselhuys, Nahed Selim, Naema Tahir, Adelheid Roosen, and Jeltje van Nieuwenhoven, who welcomed me as one of them and provided me inspiration in the debate to help improve Muslim womens rights.

Many people have stood up for me when freedom of speech was at issue. My special thanks to Betsy Udink, Nelleke Noordervliet, Max Pam, Joost Zwagerman, and Peter van Ingen for their support.

I am grateful to Gijs van de Westelaken and Theodor Holman and anyone else who contributed to Submission, .

I owe deep gratitude to Gerrit Zalm, Neelie Kroes, Jozias van Aartsen, and Henk Kamp. They were instrumental in boosting and preserving my political career. They believed in me, took a stand for me, and coached me throughout my years in Dutch Parliament, and continue to do so.

Frits Bolkestein was my intellectual mentorhe and his wife, Femke Boersma, opened their home to me and offered me comfort and support in my hours of need.

Special thanks to:

De Herenclubthe Gents clubChris, Chris, Hans, Herman, Jaffe, Leon, Paul, Sylvain: for your ideas and inspiring conversations. You taught me so much and always had the courage to criticize me when you thought I was wrong.

Leon, Jessica, Mo, and Mo: you are anchors of strength and I can never thank you enough.

The Van Gogh family.

The two IsIris and Ingridand Peter: without your guidance and levelheadedness I would have lost my mind many a time in the past few years. It is great to have you by my side.

My publishers around the world, in particular Tilly, for your commitment and friendship, and Leslie and Chris for your insights and support that helped me complete this book.

Ruth, for all your help in writing this book. Your patience, your inquisitive mind, your sensitivity, were all crucial to making this book happen. I know at times your pretty face frowned when I got behind in my work. I know that sometimes you wanted to pull out that wonderfully thick hair of yours. But you always had a kind word. And you always held out your hand to encourage me along.

Susanna, my agent, my friend, my sisterand even sometimes my Jewish mother! Thank you and your team for your unfailing calm, conscientiousness, and confidence.

The entire staff of the Dutch Royal and Diplomatic Protection Service (DKDB).

Annejet, Anne Louise, Britta, Corin, David, Evelyn and Rose, Evelyn, Frederique, Frdrique, Geeske, Giovanni, Hans, Hein, Isabella, Joachim, Marco, Mirjam, Nina, Olivia, Olivier, Roeland, Ruben, Sebastian, Tamara... I have been so fortunate over the years to have had so many friends who have supported me through thick and thin. I cannot name you all, and I would hate to forget someone, but you know who you are. Thank you for always surrounding me with your warmth, love, and understanding.

A YAAN H IRSI A LI was born in Somalia, was raised Muslim, and spent her childhood and young adulthood in Africa and Saudi Arabia. In 1992, Hirsi Ali fled to the Netherlands as a refugee, escaping a forced marriage to a distant cousin she had never met. She learned Dutch and worked as an interpreter in abortion clinics and shelters for battered women. After earning her college degree in political science, she was elected to Parliament, where she worked to raise awareness of the plight of Muslim women in Europe. Hirsi Ali was named one of Time magazines 100 Most Influential People of 2005, one of the Glamour Heroes of 2005, and Readers Digest s European of the Year, and she has received numerous human rights awards. She is author of The Caged Virgin: An Emancipation Proclamation for Women and Islam , and works for the American Enterprise Institute in the United States. If you would like to contribute to Ayaan Hirsi Alis security trust, please visit www.AyaanHirsiAli.org .

Who are you?

I am Ayaan, the daughter of Hirsi, the son of Magan.

I am sitting with my grandmother on a grass mat under the talal tree. Behind us is our house, and the branches of the talal tree are all that shields us from the sun blazing down on the white sand. Go on, my grandmother says, glaring at me.

And Magan was the son of Isse.

And then?

Isse was the son of Guleid, was the son of Ali. Was the son of Waiays. Was the son of Muhammad. Ali. Umar. I hesitate for a moment. Osman. Mahamud. I catch my breath, proud of myself.

Bah? asks my grandmother. Which consort?