In fact, the only time a Muslim can attack a non-Muslim is in self-defense, like in Iraq or the Palestinian territories, the teacher says. The al-Qaida attacks on 9/11 and in Saudi Arabia between 2003 and 2006 were not jihad, he says, because they targeted innocent people. Yet, he wonders, how will his students ever be able to learn the difference—if he isn't allowed to discuss the subject?
In Riyadh, another teacher, Said Mohammad, says the more officials make sweeping deletions from the Islamic curriculum, the more likely it is that teachers will ignore the mandate.
"The teachers have researched these deletions, and we know why the government made them," Mohammad says.
"This is the dangerous point: Maybe it makes the teachers more angry. Maybe it makes them teach these subjects even more strongly."
Naif al Roumy, who heads an independent corporation charged with reforming the Saudi education system, hears this warning from the teachers loud and clear.
"We need these teachers to understand that there is not only one way to think about ideas like jihad," he says. "There are other ways.
"I'm not an Islamic scholar, but I know that jihad is not just about making a decision of whether to go and fight. No. It's a number of things. You have to start with yourself ... not to be a bad guy. In other words, one form of jihad is to jihad yourself."
Al Roumy says that so far, some 10,000 teachers have been retrained to work in dozens of model schools around the country. Eventually, he says, all the country's more than 500,000 teachers will undergo some kind of training.
Yet who is to say this retraining will incorporate a nuanced reconsideration of Islamic concepts—one that reconciles Saudis who see a need to soften the Wahhabi-salafi line with those who think that doing so is a menacing challenge to their core beliefs?
Jamal al Khashoggi, editor of Al Watan, a leading daily newspaper in Saudi Arabia, says officials need to make changes more thoughtfully. And the religious establishment needs to understand that these changes are not direct attacks on Islam.
In Riyadh, another teacher, Said Mohammad, says the more officials make sweeping deletions from the Islamic curriculum, the more likely it is that teachers will ignore the mandate.
"The teachers have researched these deletions, and we know why the government made them," Mohammad says.
"This is the dangerous point: Maybe it makes the teachers more angry. Maybe it makes them teach these subjects even more strongly."
Naif al Roumy, who heads an independent corporation charged with reforming the Saudi education system, hears this warning from the teachers loud and clear.
"We need these teachers to understand that there is not only one way to think about ideas like jihad," he says. "There are other ways.
"I'm not an Islamic scholar, but I know that jihad is not just about making a decision of whether to go and fight. No. It's a number of things. You have to start with yourself ... not to be a bad guy. In other words, one form of jihad is to jihad yourself."
Al Roumy says that so far, some 10,000 teachers have been retrained to work in dozens of model schools around the country. Eventually, he says, all the country's more than 500,000 teachers will undergo some kind of training.
Yet who is to say this retraining will incorporate a nuanced reconsideration of Islamic concepts—one that reconciles Saudis who see a need to soften the Wahhabi-salafi line with those who think that doing so is a menacing challenge to their core beliefs?
Jamal al Khashoggi, editor of Al Watan, a leading daily newspaper in Saudi Arabia, says officials need to make changes more thoughtfully. And the religious establishment needs to understand that these changes are not direct attacks on Islam.
