The transition from the left to religious extremism is neither an isolated individual incident nor a passing intellectual joke suitable for satire. It is a political-psychological phenomenon that has been repeated in various Arab contexts with different images, yet shares a common root: the fragility of conviction and the fragility of knowledge when built on slogans rather than understanding, and on positions rather than knowledge.

The story of Mrs. Thouraya Manqoush, the Yemeni leftist celebrated for her book Yamani Unification in the 1970s, who later appeared in white robes and a turban declaring with confidence that she is "a prophetess," is not just a curious incident in the history of Arab intellectuals. It is a blatant expression of a mind that has not transitioned from one idea to its opposite, but leaped from a false certainty to an even falser one, from a totalitarian discourse to another, without undergoing a moment of true reflection.

This has happened with a large audience among Iraq’s and Lebanon’s Shiites, when many transitioned from leftist propositions to clericalism—groups seeking salvation in the wrong place.

What unites ideological leftism and religious extremism is not the content, but the mental structure. Both provide a comprehensive interpretation of the world, a ready answer on good and evil, past and future, relieving the individual from the burden of doubt and from the responsibility of asking the right question about how to solve societal and political dilemmas in their world. In both cases, the idea is not debated but embraced, elevated to the rank of absolute truth that needs no proof. Those who deviate are either a "traitor and agent" or an "apostate," and in both cases, there is marginalization and restriction of the other opinion.

When Thouraya made her famous statement—when told that the Prophet said he was the last of the prophets, she said: "The Prophet said the last of the prophets, not the last of the prophetesses"—she was not engaged in religious interpretation as much as she was practicing the same logic of indoctrination that inhabited her as a leftist: playing with language, cutting the text, building a shocking conclusion, then proclaiming possession of the truth. This is neither a religious mind nor a leftist mind, but an ideologically driven mind always seeking a platform to stand upon, not ground to stand on. Hence, in our modern history, ideological governance (both leftist and clerical) failed, adopting the marginalization of the most important tools of governance: review and accountability.

The Iraqi example is harsher and more significant. The Iraqi Ba'ath Party was a secular party, even hostile to political religion, relying on a centralized state, military, and strict regime. But merely the fall of the regime and the demobilization of the army—removing the authoritative frame that held this human block—turned thousands of officers and affiliates into fuel for extremist organizations, most notably "ISIS." How does a secular military man transition to the height of religious extremism? The question is not about religion, but about the void.

The mind that has not trained in criticism, has not learned doubt, and has not been educated to distinguish between state and idea, searches in collapse for a new totalitarian alternative. When the state falls, only the solid identities remain: sect, creed, sacred text. Thus, a national flag becomes a religious banner, military discipline turns into blind obedience, and the "legitimate" violence of the state turns into "sacred" violence in the name of God. The problem is not solely in the harsh conditions, nor in religion itself, nor in the left as a critical thought. The problem lies in a mind that has not founded its convictions on knowledge-based constants, but on superior slogans taught, not understood. This mind does not change its position because it has evolved, but because it is always seeking a ready certainty to relieve it from the trouble of thinking.

In many of its experiences, it was not so much a critical left as a closed ideology. When the grand narratives collapsed with the fall of the Soviet Union and the disintegration of "salvation" models, it lacked tools of review; thus, some transitioned to the opposite, not as an opposition, but as an alternative salvation. The (brothers–enemies) fought to physical liquidation. Therefore, we should not be surprised to see a former leftist turn into a staunch preacher, or a staunch nationalist become a fierce sectarian. The real surprise is that we continue to believe these transformations are incidental, while they are a natural outcome of a mind that has not learned that truth is relative, that politics is a field of management, not of salvation, and that humans are more complex than to be reduced to a slogan.

The dilemma we face is that the contradiction between social, political, or even economic solutions, which are complex, is not between the good and the better, but between absolute truth and absolute falsehood. It is a competition not of ideas, but of the minds carrying them. And when convictions are not based on knowledge, they do not collapse quietly, but violently turn to their opposite.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed by the writers are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Annahar.