Had it not been for Channel 4, I might never have become interested in Islam. In 1982, in the very earliest days of the channel, I was commissioned to write and present a documentary series on St Paul, working with an Israeli film company. In Jerusalem, I encountered Islam for the first time: there is, perhaps, no better place to discover its profound connections with both Judaism and Christianity. From that point, I began in my work to develop what I called ‘triple vision,’ the depiction of the Abrahamic religions as a single tradition that had taken three different but related directions. Later I was commissioned by the channel to do a series with the same Israeli company on the Crusades. Sadly, it was never screened, for somewhat nefarious reasons that had nothing to do with Islam. But during the three years of my work on this project, I had to study the Muslim riposte to these Christian holy wars, and discovered the real meaning of jihad.

Somewhat to my surprise, I found that Islam was not a militant faith that had imposed itself on a reluctant world by force of arms, and that until the 20th century it had been a far more peaceable and tolerant religion than western Christianity. The word jihad did not mean ‘holy war’ but ‘struggle, endeavour’. Muslims are exhorted to make a concerted effort – intellectually, spiritually, socially, politically and morally – to build a just society where poor and vulnerable people are treated with respect. For five years, Muhammad was forced to fight the city of Mecca, which had persecuted the Muslims, driven them from their homes, and vowed to exterminate the entire Muslim community in Medina. In these terrifying circumstances, the Qur’an decided that sometimes it was necessary to fight to preserve decent values, such as religious freedom,1 but it only permits war in self-defence.2 Muslims must always make strenuous diplomatic efforts to avoid armed conflict, and are constantly reminded that it is far better to discuss differences respectfully3 and to forgive an injury.4 There must be no vengeful retaliation.5 Once hostilities have begun, however, they must fight energetically to bring the campaign to a speedy end and restore normal relations. The moment the enemy asks for peace, they must lay down their arms and accept even the most disadvantageous terms and conditions.6

The word jihad did not mean ‘holy war’ but ‘struggle, endeavour’

Warfare was never the central pillar of Islam and the Qur’an makes it clear that fighting was abhorrent to the first Muslims.7 There is an important, oft-quoted tradition that on his way home after a battle, Muhammad once remarked to his companions: ‘We are leaving the lesser jihad [the battle] and returning to the greater jihad,’ the far more important and difficult struggle to reform one’s own society and one’s own heart. It was fascinating to me to see how these principles guided the strategy of Nur ad-Din and Saladin in their war of self-defence against the Crusaders, who recognised, somewhat uneasily, that the conduct of these Muslim generals on the battlefield was far more ‘Christian’ than their own.