AnouarRahmani
Sep 08, 2025
@anouarrahmaniopinion
Salman Rushdie was stabbed. A man stubbed him with all the strength that could be mustered. He was hit, punched, and stabbed repeatedly and with great malice, while I filmed with my phone. I couldn’t believe what was happening; I expected an intellectual and philosophical debate. I was waiting for a discussion about literature, thought, and freedom of expression. I was waiting, in the worst circumstances imaginable, for someone to take the microphone and oppose, rebuke, or even curse Salman Rushdie, not to stab him. All my mental tools were focused on receiving information, not punches. I was very attentive and fully prepared, to the point that I violated the guidelines and moved closer to the stage, away from the other writers, to listen carefully to the meeting so that I wouldn’t miss a word. I was eagerly waiting for Salman Rushdie to appear, and at one moment, the voices began to rise, and the “stabbing” began. The stabbing that has not stopped within me until now.