Imagine if Karl Marx had proclaimed his communism not as a social theory but as a religion.
Imagine Stalin declaring himself the prophet of a “Stalinist god,” Mao as the “Son of the Revolution” — and every doubt about their doctrine treated as blasphemy.

No one would have dared to contradict them.
Criticism would be heresy.
Dissent, a crime against the sacred.

Unthinkable?
Not quite. Because one ideology has already claimed that shield of untouchability — Islam.

The Immunity of Religion

Ideologies can be challenged. Religions cannot.
Communism could collapse because it was open to critique.
National Socialism could be destroyed because its crimes were nameable.
Maoism could fade because people finally said enough.

But religions survive even when they breed violence, oppression, or conquest.
To question them is to oppose not an idea, but God himself.
And whoever stands against God stands outside morality.

In today’s West this logic has reached a grotesque extreme.
You can mock the Pope, deconstruct Christianity, or ridicule faith — but not Islam.
A wall of guilt and fear protects it.
Criticism becomes “Islamophobia.”
Reason bows before sensitivity.

The New Blasphemy

Communism promised heaven on earth — and broke on human nature.
Nazism promised salvation through blood — and ended in ruins.
Maoism promised equality — and delivered famine and death.

All three were secular religions: prophets, martyrs, sacred texts, rituals.
But they could be overthrown because they lacked divine legitimacy.

Islam, by contrast, claims precisely that.
Mohammed was not just a preacher — he was a general, a lawgiver, a ruler.
His revelation became a legal code; his faith, a constitution.
Its aim: divine order on earth.

That fusion grants immunity.
You can refute an idea, but not God.
You can outlaw an ideology, but not a faith that declares itself eternal truth.

The West’s Guilt Religion

Why, then, can we criticize everything — except Islam?
Because the West has turned its own colonial past into a theology of guilt.
Centuries of conquest have produced a new religion: Tolerance.

And its dogma reads:

“Islam is a victim. Criticism is discrimination.”

Thus we live in a paradox:

• Christianity may be mocked.

• Atheism may mock everything.

• But questioning Islam is forbidden.

Two fears sustain this silence:
Fear of violence — and fear of moral condemnation.
Together, they produce the most effective censorship: self-censorship.

Mohammed the Architect of Power

Whatever else one may say, Mohammed was not naïve.
He built a system that fused faith, politics, and war into one.
A prophet with an army, a state with a mission.
The sword was not a contradiction of the word — it was its continuation.

Unlike Marx, Stalin, or Mao, Mohammed did not promise a future utopia.
He declared God’s rule now.
Who opposed him opposed God — and thus forfeited the right to exist.

That is why his system endures.
It is not merely a religion; it is a political blueprint sanctified by revelation.

The Double Hypocrisy

When Western intellectuals say “Islam is peace,” they rarely believe it.
They say it out of fear — fear of appearing intolerant, fear of violating the creed of tolerance itself.

But tolerance that forbids dissent is not a virtue. It is surrender.
The West defends its values by betraying them.
It preaches equality but grants exemptions.
It praises free speech — until someone feels offended.

So the paradox deepens:
The religion that seeks dominance is protected.
The culture that defends freedom is accused.

What If…

What if “Marxism-phobia” had been outlawed?
What if any critique of Communism were a hate crime?
What if the Third Reich had been declared a religion — its atrocities reinterpreted as “misguided rituals of faith”?

Unthinkable.
Yet this is precisely how Islam is treated today:
Not because it is superior, but because the West has lost the courage to distinguish respect from fear.

Conclusion

Marx wanted heaven on earth.
Hitler wanted to sever earth from heaven.
Mao tried to create heaven within himself.
Mohammed declared the earth itself heaven’s dominion.

The difference is not moral but structural:
Whoever claims divine authority becomes untouchable.
Whoever becomes untouchable becomes infallible.
And infallibility has always marked the beginning of tyranny — and the end of freedom.