In the Satanic Verses, it seems that no relationship is a relationship between equals. Each is paired with an opposite: dominant and submissive, god and worshiper, angel and devil, faithful and adulterer. This inequality creates toxic, even dangerous situations, in which a person sacrifices a lot for the good of someone else, or for the good of religion, without anything in return. Salman Rushdie plays with notions of faith and loyalty to critique the concept of sacrifice in both religion and personal relationships. By subverting the idea of ​​blood sacrifice and portraying toxic relationships, Rushdie suggests that religion itself can be a toxic relationship, when a person gives up everything for the promise of a future they have no reason to believe in. This idea is summarized by “the promise of the magic lamp”, and so I will start with that, a part of the backstory of Saladin Chamcha's character. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay When Saladin was growing up, his father was a formidable presence in his life. He is described as always spying on him or coming right behind him, even tearing Saladin's sheet in the middle of the night to "reveal the shameful penis in the red hand he holds (36)." The father is omniscient, omnipresent and seemingly omnipotent to the young Saladin, just like a god. Indeed, he is described as "more like a god to his newborn son than any Allah" and a "profane deity (49)". When Saladin finds a wallet full of British money, his father is, in fact, there to take it away from him. To accentuate the father's cruel nature, on a shelf in his study is a "magic lamp", just like something out of The Arabian Nights. But of course he doesn't let his son screw him over in the hopes of bringing out a genius. He promises, however, that one day Saladin will come to possess it for himself. This “promise of the magic lamp” convinces young Saladin that “one day his troubles would be over and his innermost desires would be gratified, and all he would have to do was wait (37).” This presents a pattern that you see over and over again as you read the novel: someone wants something, but is unable to get it. Meanwhile they suffer and are punished. They cling to the hope that they will eventually get what they want. This pattern, present in many different plots of the novel, is a criticism of faith that Rushdie is trying to make. Saladin isn't the only character to have faith in something that may or may not end all his problems. Outside of this father-son relationship, the novel is filled with romantic and other interpersonal relationships that follow the same pattern, a pattern that is clearly toxic, even abusive. Religion also follows a similar structure in the novel. The “promise of the magic lamp” is depicted as similar to the “promise of the afterlife.” Characters place their faith in something that may or may not happen after their death, and this faith becomes detrimental to the life they have. Rushdie's criticism of blind faith in religion, particularly Islamic extremism, is also evident in the word he chooses to call it. Instead of calling it “Islam” in the Jahilia sections of the book, which chronicle the life of Mahound, or Muhammad, and the founding of the religion, Rushdie calls it by its literal English translation: Submission. This is a conscious choice on his part, intended to underline the fact that Islam, one of the dominant religions in the world, literally means submission, a word that suggests that its followers must allow themselves to be dominated, surrender to the will tosomething or someone. other. Of course, submitting to something isn't always a bad thing: It encourages humility and can remind someone that they are only human. But taken to the extreme, submission can be deadly. THE supreme leader of Iran at the time Rushdie wrote this book, Ayatollah Khomeini (coincidentally the same man who issued the fatwa against him), said: “What could be better in the service of Islam and noble Islamic nation who drink the drink of Islam? martyrdom and proudly meet God (Hatina 123)?” Given that powerful religious leaders are so accepting of the concept of martyrdom and suicide, it is no wonder that suicide attacks in radical Islam were, and still are, such a problem. Submission means giving up something to someone else, and when a person has faith in an afterlife guaranteed to them, if they become a martyr, then they may give up their own life and/or the lives of others to do so. The concept of self-sacrifice for the sake of religious faith is an extreme version of the idea of ​​the magic lamp, a magic lamp worth dying for. This is seen in the Satanic Verses on several occasions. “Martyrdom is a privilege,” says Tavleen, the woman who hijacks the plane and blows it up in mid-air. “We will be like the stars; like the sun (88).” This is an example of faith turned toxic. Tavleen has no proof that murder and suicide will get her to heaven, but she firmly believes it. What he says at that moment certainly echoes Khomeini's words above. When he kills the first hostage, he uses the word “sacrifice,” and Rushdie highlights the use of that particular word (87). To sacrifice means to give something to a god in the hope of getting something in return. But it's not exactly an equal exchange: someone makes a sacrifice and then waits for the reward, hoping it will come. They "wait", like Saladin for the magic lamp. The word brings to mind ancient rituals on temple stairs, blood shed in the name of a good harvest. But this example is entirely modern, intended to demonstrate that the concept of bloody sacrifice is not obsolete. It's done with a gun to the head rather than a dagger to the heart, but the idea is the same. Later, Tavleen sacrifices herself to her god, taking her fellow hijackers and the plane's passengers with her. Rushdie includes another example of a kind of blood sacrifice involving many people in the novel's sections on Ayesha, whose rhetoric, like that used by Tavleen and Khomeini and often found in religious texts, advocates martyrdom. “Everything will be required of us and everything will be given to us too (232)” becomes his refrain. She repeats this often until she is followed by an entire village on a pilgrimage to the depths of the Arabian Sea. Rushdie here complicates the concept of blind faith: it is not entirely blind. The villagers have some good reason to put their trust in Ayesha. Hers is a seemingly holy presence: wherever she goes she is followed by a mass of butterflies, the insects so attracted to her that they dress her naked body. He also correctly diagnoses Mishal Saeed's breast cancer (240). These are both valid reasons why the villagers think he is some kind of prophet. However, when he promises that the sea will part for them just as it did for the Israelites fleeing Egypt, the villagers drown instead. By providing a not entirely unjustified example of faith, Rushdie shows that his criticism is not faith itself, but the willingness to sacrifice everything for it. The fact that they believe in Ayesha as a prophet is not the issue here; in fact it is shown as a positive thing when Mishal first finds out he has cancer. The question is the complete submission of oneself to this faith. As he writesFrans Ilkka Mäyrä, “Rushdie's text... does not address the exact opposite of religious faith, it is not indifferent or antipathetic towards religious tradition. Instead, it articulates a middle ground between secularism and religiosity by exploring religious elements with an engaged but critical attitude.” When the villagers enter the water, "none of them reappears...not even a panting head or a flailing arm (517)." To go far enough into the ocean after her reluctance to separate that people drown, without even a struggle, is the most shocking part of Ayesha's story. It should be noted that Rushdie is not describing Islam exclusively as a dangerous type of faith; his criticism is aimed at any extreme sacrifice to any extreme religion. As Meir Hatina and Meir Litvak write in their book Martyrdom and Sacrifice in Islam, "The idea and ideal of martyrdom for the sake of one's beliefs has been seen in most religions as the epitome of devotion to God (3) ". They go on to explain the evolution of the concept of martyrdom in Islam, which has its roots in the other two Abrahamic religions; all three faiths have a history of being pushed too far. Rushdie also illustrates that martyrdom is not exclusive to religious faith. The novel portrays a series of martyrs in their personal relationships. Toxic relationships run rampant throughout the Satanic Verses, presenting inequalities of divine proportions. Notable examples are the relationships women have with Gibreel. It is not insignificant that Gibreel had no luck with women until he began playing goddess roles. In fact, until he did so, "he could not kiss a single woman on the mouth (23)". As soon as he is assigned the role of an elephant-headed god, however, he begins having sex with so many women that he can't keep track of their names. Many of these women even want him to keep the elephant mask on while they make love (25). This is problematic, especially within a patriarchal religious culture, as it shows women wanting to give themselves to a divine figure. Gibreel becomes their religion. Although he is violent, unfaithful and uncaring, they still love him and remain faithful to him. As Gibreel falls from the plane, he has a vision of one of his lovers, Rekha, who killed herself due to heartbreak by falling from a skyscraper, recalling a fall from God. In the vision Rekha says, “but after that you punished, you used it as an excuse to leave, as a cloud to hide behind... now that I'm dead I've forgotten how to forgive. I curse you, my Gibreel, may your life be hell. Hell, why is that where you sent me (8).” This quote requires in-depth analysis. First, by describing him as “punisher” and hidden in a cloud, she cements the idea that Gibreel is like a god to her, and she his worshiper. As long as she was alive, her trust was placed in him. She always had hope that he would return to her, until the moment she falls in love with Hallelujah Cone: Gibreel's version of a god-like lover. It is then that she begins to doubt the strength of her love for him, the idea that he will ever return just because she continually gives herself for him. Doubt, as Rushdie points out, is the opposite of faith (94). Only when he dies and she no longer has any hope for a future with him, is she able to face him and stop forgiving him. She is in Hell, not Heaven, which is significant. She chose Hell over life without Gibreel, making herself an unusual kind of martyr, not for faith but for losing faith. However, it was the trust she placed in Gibreel that drove her to despair and suicide. “Everyone always forgave you… you got away with, 1988.