Ever since I saw Minarets in the Mountains floating around Instagram, honestly, I was intrigued. The idea of a whole book dedicated to exploring Muslim Europe was honestly so exciting.
I mean, even the idea that there was such a thing as the indigenous Muslim European felt so foreign — especially when you grow up in a world that keeps reminding you of how ‘other’ Islam is.

Like many of you, my first exposure to the idea of indigenous Muslim Europeans was through learning about the Bosnian genocide of 1995. I remember being shocked that just a few hours from the country I live in — a country that often tells me I don’t belong because of the colour of my skin — there were people who looked just like the majority here, yet were still told they didn’t belong.

Learning about Bosnia was a turning point. It made me realise how little I knew about the world, how skewed our education systems are, and how deliberately certain histories are erased.

So when I finally picked up this book, I had to read it — and I’m so glad I did.

📚Synopsis 

Minarets in the Mountains is the travel memoir of Tharik Hussain, who sets off with his wife and two daughters to explore a side of Europe we rarely hear about. A Europe that is home to thriving indigenous Muslim communities — often forgotten or deliberately ignored.

Tharik and his family travel to the following countries:

• Bosnia and Herzegovina

• Serbia

• Kosovo

• North Macedonia

• Albania

• Montenegro

💌 My thoughts 

The book reads quite easily and it was lovely reading it through Tharik’s lived experience rather than a dry, academic one. I went into this book wanting almost a lens into that side of the world rather than a historical account of how Islam reached Europe, and this book provided that balance perfectly.

This made my favourite part about this book the interactions Tharik had with different locals of the different countries he visited. It really gave an insight into what their lived experiences were — how they viewed their own histories, and how pivotal they saw Islam in their lives. You really saw how unique and vibrant each of the countries’ cultures were.

I personally was in awe of how much of the Ottoman legacy remains in all these countries! There are cities described to have minarets take over the horizon, cities known as ‘addicted to prayer’, cities where it is impossible to find pork. Hammams, caravanserais, bazaars, horseshoe arches — all the images of Turkey and the Ottoman world present in what we call today The West. I am now itching to visit all these countries!

I also found it really interesting how Tharik points out repeatedly the connection between the otherisation of Eastern Europe by the rest of Europe and the Islamic history that runs deep in those regions. It seems obvious now, as nothing breaks down the narrative of “Islam doesn’t belong in Europe” like realising Islam was always part of Europe.

💭A reservation 

My only reservation about this book was noticing a recurring unease in Tharik’s tone whenever he came across more visibly or traditionally practising Muslims — young men growing beards, rolling up their trousers, studying their religion more deeply. I understand the concern about extremism, and the damage ultra-strict groups have caused. But at times, the way he described these individuals felt eerily similar to Prevent-style profiling — as if becoming more observant was a red flag in itself.

Ironically, I found those very interactions the most beautiful. Although Islam was centuries old in many of these countries, it was very clear from Tharik’s account how little of it was observed in some areas. Seeing these interactions of young people finding their way back — where Islam wasn’t just cultural but something that really was their way of life — was so beautiful to me. But Tharik often ended those reflections with a note of concern, hoping they wouldn’t be “pulled too far” into strictness. That sentiment hurt to read — because if striving to follow Islamic rulings more closely makes someone “worrying,” then aren’t we echoing the same assumptions mainstream society makes about us?

I mention this reservation as I didn’t notice it in any reviews I’d read so far, and it was something I found a bit surprising to see in a book like this.

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But overall, I still highly recommend this book. The lens it gives us into what Muslim Europe looks like is so vital to us Muslims in the West, who constantly feel the need to justify their existence here. It’s also just so beautiful to see how Islam has really touched every corner of the globe and how it had a hand in shaping so much more than we ever thought.