Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges 9783030660888, 9783030660895

Citation preview

Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations

Mohammed Hashas   Editor

Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges

Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations Volume 16

Series Editors David M. Rasmussen, Boston College, Chestnut Hill, MA, USA Alessandro Ferrara, Dipartimento di Storia, University of Rome ‘Tor Vergata’, Rome, Italy Editorial Board Members Abdullah An-Na’im, Charles Howard Candler Professor of Law, Emory University, Atlanta, USA Bruce Ackerman, Sterling Professor of Law, Yale University, New Haven, CT, USA Robert Audi, O’Brien Professor of Philosophy at the University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, IN, USA Seyla Benhabib, Eugene Meyer Professor for Political Science and Philosophy, Yale University, New Haven, CT, USA Samuel Freeman, Avalon Professor in the Humanities, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, PA, USA Jürgen Habermas, Professor Emeritus, Goethe-University, Frankfurt am Main, Frankfurt, Bayern, Germany Axel Honneth, Goethe-University, Frankfurt am Main, Germany and Columbia University, New York, USA, Frankfurt am Main, New York, Germany Erin Kelly, Professor of Philosophy, Tufts University, Medford, MA, USA Charles Larmore, W. Duncan MacMillan Family Professor in the Humanities, Brown University, Providence, RI, USA Frank Michelman, Professor Emeritus, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA, USA Tong Shijun, Professor of Philosophy, East China Normal University, Shanghai, China Charles Taylor, Professor Emeritus, McGill University, Montreal, Montreal, QC, Canada Michael Walzer, Professor Emeritus, Institute of Advanced Study, Princeton, Princeton, NJ, USA

The purpose of Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations is to publish high quality volumes that reflect original research pursued at the juncture of philosophy and politics. Over the past 20 years new important areas of inquiry at the crossroads of philosophy and politics have undergone impressive developments or have emerged anew. Among these, new approaches to human rights, transitional justice, religion and politics and especially the challenges of a post-secular society, global justice, public reason, global constitutionalism, multiple democracies, political liberalism and deliberative democracy can be included. Philosophy and Politics Critical Explorations addresses each and any of these interrelated yet distinct fields as valuable manuscripts and proposal become available, with the aim of both being the forum where single breakthrough studies in one specific subject can be published and at the same time the areas of overlap and the intersecting themes across the various areas can be composed in the coherent image of a highly dynamic disciplinary continent. Some of the studies published are bold theoretical explorations of one specific theme, and thus primarily addressed to specialists, whereas others are suitable for a broader readership and possibly for wide adoption in graduate courses. The series includes monographs focusing on a specific topic, as well as collections of articles covering a theme or collections of articles by one author. Contributions to this series come from scholars on every continent and from a variety of scholarly orientations. More information about this series at http://www.springer.com/series/13508

Mohammed Hashas Editor

Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges

Editor Mohammed Hashas Luiss University of Rome FSCIRE-La Pira Center on the History and Doctrines of Islam Palermo, Italy

ISSN 2352-8370     ISSN 2352-8389 (electronic) Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations ISBN 978-3-030-66088-8    ISBN 978-3-030-66089-5 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5 © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. This Springer imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

In memory of Massimo Campanini (1954–2020), for his scholarship and friendship.

Notes on Transliteration and Style

This volume adopts Springer Humanities Style, based on Chicago Manual Style, 16th ed., with consistent slight modifications, like the use of “ibid” or “op.cit.” The volume adopts the transliteration system of the International Journal of Middle East Studies (IJMES). Because the volume includes chapters that refer to various contexts and languages of the Muslim majority societies (Arabic, Turkish, Farsi, Indonesian, etc.) the editor did not enforce full consistency in the transliteration of some concepts. While classical proper names are transliterated (e.g., al-Ghazālī), modern names, since the 1800s, are left without transliteration, and their official or common spellings are adopted (e.g., Ahmad Amin instead of Aḥmad Amīn). The definite article “al-” is used, and the liason/idghām is found in few cases of original citations. Common words, like Qur’an, Muhammad (the Prophet), shari‘a, ijtihad, and Abu, are not transliterated, unless found so in original; Sunni, Shi‘a, Ash‘arite, Zahirite, and alike words are not transliterated either.

Consonants ‫ ء‬ʾ  ‫ ب‬b  ‫ ت‬t  ‫ ث‬th  ‫ ج‬j  ‫ ح‬ḥ  ‫ خ‬kh  ‫ د‬d  ‫ ذ‬dh  ‫ ر‬r  ‫ ز‬z  ‫ س‬s  ‫ ش‬sh   ‫ ص‬ṣ  ‫ ض‬ḍ  ‫ ط‬ṭ  ‫ ظ‬ẓ  ‫ ع‬ʿ  ‫ غ‬gh  ‫ ف‬f  ‫ ق‬q  ‫ ک‬k  ‫ ل‬l  ‫ م‬m  ‫ ن‬n  ‫ ه‬h   ‫ و‬w  ‫ ی‬y

vii

viii

Notes on Transliteration and Style

Short Vowels ‫ ـَــ‬a

‫ ـ ُــ‬u

‫ ـِــ‬i

‫ و‬ū

‫ي‬ī

Long vowels ‫ � آ ى‬ā



Diphthongs ‫ ـَ و‬aw ‫ ـَ ي‬ay ‫ ة‬a, at/ah (construct state) al- (article)

Acknowledgements

This book owes gratitude to a number of people and institutions. Reset Dialogues on Civilizations (Resetdoc) in Milan, in partnership with Reset Dialogues US, is behind the idea of organizing annual seminars in which philosophers, thinkers, academics, and researchers from East and West meet and exchange ideas in interdisciplinary international conferences, roundtables, and summer schools. I was myself a student, and later on an assistant, of these Seminars in their Istanbul Seminars version that lasted for a decade (c. 2006–2016), and have gradually become involved in the scientific organization of its Casablanca Seminars’ first and second editions, 09–14 July 2018, and 08–20 July 2019. The Seminars are composed of an international conference and a summer school. Besides Giancarlo Bosetti, director of Resetdoc, Casablanca Seminars’ first edition of 2018 owes special thanks to Professor Abdou Filali-Ansari who dreamed of such a project, and supported it, though he physically could not join it for health problems. This book is based on the first Conference of Casablanca Seminars, which took place on 9–11 July 2018, on the topic “Sources of Pluralism in Islamic Thought,” in partnership with the King Abdul-Aziz Al Saoud Foundation for Islamic Studies and Human Sciences in Casablanca, which hosted the event and contributed to its realization; without the support of its acting director, Dr. Mohamed Sghir Janjar, it would not have been possible to organize the Seminars. Not all the chapters of this volume were presented in the 2018 Conference; there are new chapters in this volume. Thanks go also to the Granada Institute for Higher Education and Research, in Granada, Spain, and its director Dr. Mohammed Bensalah, for their enriching contribution; similar thanks go also to Henry Luce Foundation’s Initiative on Religion in International Affairs, Nomis Foundation, and the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and International Cooperation for their support of Casablanca Seminars 2018; the positions contained in this volume exclusively represent those of the authors. Thanks go also to the scientific committee and colleagues that contributed to the organization: Professors Jonathan Laurence, Fouad Ben Ahmed, Mohammed Haddad, and Nouzha Guessous. Some participants joined the conference and contributed to the discussions, for which I thank them, but could not contribute to this volume: Professors Mohammed Mahjoub, Mohammed Khalid Rhazzali, Fadma Ait Mous, ix

x

Acknowledgements

Meriem El Haitami, Emmanuel Karagiannis, and Moin Nizami. Gratitude goes also to La Pira Research Library and Center on Islamic History and Doctrines in Palermo, Italy, which is part of FSCIRE Foundation for Religious Studies in Bologna (founded in 1953), for the facilities it has offered for the completion of work on this volume between February 2019 and February 2021 Research Fellowship; the loving company of the Center’s team during my work on this volume is memorable. Lastly, I warmly thank the anonymous peer reviewers for their fruitful comments on the manuscript. On the 9th of October 2020, the Italian and international community of scholars of Islam and Muslim societies lost a prolific and profound scholar, and a lovely person and friend: Professor Massimo Campanini (1954–2020). He contributed a chapter to this volume, despite his health difficulties. As an editor, and on behalf of the contributing authors, I dedicate this book to him, for his erudition and friendship.

Contents

1 Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits��������������������������������������������������������������������    1 Mohammed Hashas Part I Pluralism in Classical Islamic Thought and Politics 2 Valorizing Religious Dialogue and Pluralism Within the Islamic Tradition������������������������������������������������������������������   35 Asma Afsaruddin 3 The Qur’an and Pluralism: A Skeptical View ��������������������������������������   47 Oliver Leaman 4 Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism����������������������������������������������������������������������������������   59 Mariam al-Attar 5 Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������   75 Mohsen Kadivar 6 Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One of Islam’s Formative Episodes��������������   99 Abdelwahab El-Affendi 7 Universalism and Cosmopolitanism in Islam: The Idea of the Caliphate������������������������������������������������������������������������  115 Massimo Campanini 8 Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an ����������������������������������������������������  129 Shabbir Akhtar

xi

xii

Contents

Part II Pluralism in Modern Islamic Thought and Politics 9 Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd and Abdolkarim Soroush������������������������������������������������������������������������  149 Pegah Zohouri 10 Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought��������������������������������������������������������������������  171 Taraneh R. Wilkinson 11 Nurcholish Madjid and Religious Pluralism in Indonesian Islam����������������������������������������������������������������������������������  189 M. Amin Abdullah 12 Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding��������������������������������������������  201 Imtiyaz Yusuf 13 Sufism and Politics ����������������������������������������������������������������������������������  221 Clinton Bennett 14 Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes? ��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������  239 Anthony Booth Index������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������  255

Contributors

M.  Amin  Abdullah  Sunan Kalijaga State Islamic University, Yogyakarta, Indonesia Asma Afsaruddin  Indiana University, Bloomington, IN, USA Shabbir Akhtar  Regent’s Park College, University of Oxford, Oxford, UK Mariam al-Attar  American University of Sharjah, Sharjah, UAE Clinton Bennett  State University of New York, Albany, NY, USA Anthony Booth  University of Sussex, Brighton, UK Massimo  Campanini  University School for Advanced Studies IUSS Pavia, Pavia, Italy Abdelwahab El-Affendi  Doha Institute for Graduate Studies, Doha, Qatar Mohammed  Hashas  Luiss University of Rome, FSCIRE-La Pira Center on the History and Doctrines of Islam, Palermo, Italy Mohsen Kadivar  Duke University, Durham, NC, USA Oliver Leaman  University of Kentucky, Lexington, KY, USA Taraneh R. Wilkinson  Foundation for Religious Studies “John XXIII” (FSCIRE), Bologna, Italy Imtiyaz Yusuf  International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation (ISTACIIUM), Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia Pegah Zohouri  St. Antony’s College, University of Oxford, Oxford, UK

xiii

About the Contributors

Amin Abdullah  is professor of Islamic philosophy and Islamic studies and the first rector of the State Islamic University in Yogyakarta, Indonesia (2002–2006 and 2006–2010). He is chairman of the Cultural Commission of the Indonesian Academy of Sciences and is advisor to Sultan Hamengkubuwono X, who also serves as the Governor of Yogyakarta. His work on religion, science, and culture as well as integration and interconnection has greatly influenced the Islamic higher education in Indonesia. A prominent scholar on Qur’anic hermeneutics, he developed a new hermeneutical approach to the Qur’an and advocates a new path in Islamic epistemology that is open to dialogue and integration with many different references and sources of knowledge. He received his Ph.D. in Islamic philosophy from the Middle East Technical University (METU), Ankara, Turkey (1984–1990), with postdoctoral study at McGill University, Montreal, Canada (1997–1998). Asma  Afsaruddin  is professor of Near Eastern languages and cultures in the School of Global and International Studies at Indiana University, Bloomington, USA. She received her Ph.D. in Arabic and Islamic studies from the Johns Hopkins University and previously taught at Harvard and Notre Dame universities. She is the author or editor of seven books, including Contemporary Issues in Islam (Edinburgh University Press, 2015); the award-winning Striving in the Path of God: Jihad and Martyrdom in Islamic Thought (Oxford University Press, 2013), which is currently being translated into Bahasa Indonesia; and The First Muslims: History and Memory (OneWorld Publications 2008), which has been translated into Turkish. Her book Jihad: What Everyone Needs to Know is forthcoming from Oxford University Press. Professor Afsaruddin’s research has been funded, among others, by the Harry Frank Guggenheim Foundation and the Carnegie Corporation of New York, which named her a Carnegie Scholar in 2005. Shabbir Akhtar  is a Muslim philosopher who trained at Cambridge University. He has published widely on pluralism and race relations as well as both Islam and Christianity’s differing confrontations with the threat of a common secular modernity. His books include The Light in the Enlightenment (Cassell, 1990) and his xv

xvi

About the Contributors

well-­known Be Careful with Muhammad! (Bellew, 1989), by now a classic critique of Salman Rushdie. Dr. Akhtar has also written: The Quran and the Secular Mind (London: Routledge, 2007) and Islam as Political Religion (Routledge, 2010). In 2018, he published the first volume of his three-volume commentary on the Greek New Testament (Routledge, 2018), the first such work in Islamic history. He has also published three volumes of poetry in English. Dr. Akhtar has taught in Malaysia and America. He is now at Regent’s Park College, Oxford, and a member in the Faculty of Theology and Religions at Oxford University. Mariam  Al-Attar  teaches philosophy and Islamic philosophy at the American University of Sharjah, UAE. Her main interests include Arabo-Islamic philosophy and moral philosophy. She is the author of Islamic Ethics: Divine Command Theory in Arabo-Islamic Thought (2010). She studied physics and philosophy in Amman, Jordan, and obtained her Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Leeds. She previously served as head of Department of Ethics, Philosophy and Religion at King’s Academy, Jordan. Before pursuing her studies in philosophy and Islamic thought, she was a clinical scientist, who worked several years in the field of medical physics. Clinton Bennett  earned his Ph.D. from Birmingham University in 1990 for a thesis published as Victorian Images of Islam (London, Grey Seal, 1992). A fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society and of the Royal Anthropological Institute, he also holds degrees from Manchester and Oxford. Dr. Bennett, who has taught at colleges on both sides of the Atlantic, specializes in South Asian Islam and has close ties with institutions in the Indian subcontinent where he worked between 1979 and 1981. Now based at SUNY New Paltz, USA, his current research focuses on the role of Sufis in influencing public policy. Dr. Bennett is also active as an ordained minister and in Christian–Muslim relations locally and internationally. His publications include In Search of Muhammad (1998), Muslims and Modernity (2005) (all Bloomsbury), and, most recently, with Sarwar Alam, Sufism, Pluralism and Democracy (Equinox. 2017). Anthony  Booth  is currently reader in philosophy at the University of Sussex, UK.  He mainly worked in contemporary epistemology (especially the Ethics of Belief), but has recently focused on (especially Medieval) Islamic philosophy  – publishing the book Analytic Islamic Philosophy (Palgrave 2017). He lived in Aleppo (Syria) in his teens just at the time when he was first discovering philosophy and, after that, he lived in lots of different countries. This deeply influenced his "cosmopolitan" approach to philosophy. Massimo  Campanini  is an academic at the Ambrosian Academy of Milan and visiting professor at IUSS Pavia. Previously he served as associate professor of Islamic studies in the universities of Naples L’Orientale and Trento. His interests concern Qur’anic studies; medieval and modern theological, philosophical, and political thought; and contemporary history of the Arab world. He has written 42

About the Contributors

xvii

books including The Qur'an, Modern Muslim Interpretations, Routledge 2011, and Philosophical Perspectives on Modern Qur'anic Exegesis, Equinox 2016, besides the recently re-published Storia del Medio Oriente Contemporaneo (Mulino, 2017, fifth edition) and Islam e politica (Mulino 2015, third edition). Abdelwahab El-Affendi  is professor of politics and provost, acting president, of the School of Social Sciences and Humanities, Doha Institute for Graduate Studies, Doha, Qatar. Previously, he was head of the Politics and IR Programme at DI (2015–2017) and coordinator of the Democracy and Islam Programme at the University of Westminster (since 1998). He was also a visiting fellow/professor at the Christian Michelsen Institute (Bergen, Norway) and the Universities of Northwestern (Chicago), Oxford, Cambridge, and the International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilization (Malaysia). He delivered keynote speeches and lectures at most major universities in the US, UK, and several universities in Asia, Africa, and South America. His most recent work is: Genocidal Nightmares: Narratives of Insecurity and the Structure of Mass Atrocities New York: Bloomsbury Academic (2015). Mohammed Hashas  is senior research fellow at FSCIRE-La Pira Research Center on the History and Doctrines of Islam in Palermo, Italy, and faculty member in the Department of Political Science at Luiss University of Rome. He was a research fellow at Babylon Center for the Study of the Multicultural Society in Tilburg, the Netherlands, and the Center for European Islamic Thought at the University of Copenhagen, a visiting research fellow at Oxford Center for Islamic Studies, and a guest scholar at Leibniz-ZMO Zentrum Moderner Orient in Berlin. Besides various journal articles, book chapters, and free essays, Hashas has published Islamic Ethics and the Trusteeship Paradigm: Taha Abderrahmane’s Philosophy in Comparative Perspectives (2020), The Idea of European Islam (2019), Islam, State and Modernity: Mohamed Abed al-Jabri and the Future of the Arab World (2018), Imams in Western Europe (2018), and Intercultural Geopoetics (2017). Mohsen  Kadivar  is a theologian and a research professor of Islamic studies at Duke University (Durham, NC, US). He earned the certificate of Ijtihad from the theologian seminary of Qom and received a Ph.D. in Islamic philosophy and theology from Tarbiat Modarres University in Tehran. His interests span both classical and modern Islamic thought with a special focus on Islamic philosophy, theology, law, ethics, Qur’anic studies, and Shi’i political thought. Author of dozens of books in Persian and Arabic, his most recent articles are “Islam and Democracy: Perspectives from Reformist and Traditional Islam” (2018), “Human Action Within Divine Creation: a Muslim Perspective” (2017), and “Revisiting Women’s Rights in Islam: Egalitarian Justice” in lieu of “Deserts-based Justice”’ (2013). His forthcoming books are Human Rights and Islam (AKU, London) and Islamic Theocracy in A Secular Age: Revisiting Shi’ite Political Theology & Ideology of Islamic Republic of Iran (UNC Press).

xviii

About the Contributors

Oliver Leaman  is professor of philosophy at the University of Kentucky. His most recent books are Controversies in Contemporary Islam, New  York: Routledge, 2013; Biographical Encyclopedia of Islamic Philosophy, London: Bloomsbury, 2015 (2nd ed.); and The Qur'an: a philosophical guide, London: Bloomsbury, 2016. Taraneh R. Wilkinson  completed her Ph.D. in religious pluralism at Georgetown University on contemporary Turkish Muslim thought. She was an international fellow at the Foundation for Religious Studies “John XXIII,” in Bologna, Italy, where she is currently a member, and is author of Dialectical Encounters: Contemporary Turkish Muslim Thought in Dialogue (Edinburgh University Press, 2019). Imtiyaz Yusuf  is associate professor and deputy dean for Students Development and Community Engagement and also coordinator of Islam and Buddhism Programme at International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation (ISTAC-IIUM), Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Dr. Yusuf is also a senior fellow at the Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Center for Muslim-Christian Understanding (ACMCU), Georgetown University, Washington D.C.  Formerly, he was the director of the Center for Buddhist-Muslim Understanding in the College of Religious Studies at Mahidol University in Thailand. He specializes in religion with a focus on Islam in Thailand and Southeast Asia and Muslim–Buddhist dialogue. Imtiyaz has contributed to the Oxford Encyclopedia of Islamic World (2009); Oxford Dictionary of Islam (2003); Encyclopedia of Qur’an (2002); and Oxford Encyclopedia of Modern Islamic World (1995). His most recent publications include: Multiculturalism in Asia: Peace and Harmony (2018) and “Three Faces of the Rohingya Crisis: Religious Nationalism, Asian Islamophobia, and Delegitimizing Citizenship,” in Studia Islamika, [Scopus Indexed], Vol. 25, no. 3, December 2018, pp. 503–542. Pegah Zohouri  is a finishing doctoral candidate in Oriental (Middle Eastern and Islamic) studies at the University of Oxford, St. Antony’s College. Her research is set at the intersection between contemporary Islamic intellectual history and sociology of knowledge, tackling questions of authority, mediation, and politics of knowledge production in a global perspective. In her dissertation, she explores the role of transnational social networks in the process of intellectual legitimation of Muslim thinkers in contemporary Europe.

Chapter 1

Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits Mohammed Hashas

Abstract  This paper overviews the meanings of especially religious pluralism in the Islamic intellectual and political tradition, past and present, with reference to some major scholarly works in tafsīr, theology, and philosophy. First, before highlighting the importance of pluralism in modern studies of religion, from both historical and theological perspectives, brief reference to some classical “Islamic” texts on inter-and-intra comparative religions will be mentioned, not only to show that comparative religions and religious pluralism as scholarly disciplines are not inexistent in the tradition, but most importantly to show that religious pluralism could flourish in premodern times even when the episteme was dominantly “religious” - to use the terms here with reservations. The point here is that the plurality of interpreting one tradition, and the neutral or biased interpretations of other traditions, is a confirmation of religious pluralism, however problematic this confirmation might be in the political or theological spheres. Second, with reference to a few recent works in the field of “Islamic” intellectual history, tentative definitions on what Islam, Islamic, plurality, pluralism, and pluralization mean will be introduced. Third, examples of how pluralism is examined in contemporary Islamic thought are provided. Keywords  Pluralism · Religious pluralism · Plurality · Pluralization · Inclusivism · Exclusivism · Cumulative tradition · Muslim world · Islamic world

M. Hashas (*) Luiss University of Rome, FSCIRE-La Pira Center on the History and Doctrines of Islam, Palermo, Italy e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_1

1

2

M. Hashas

1.1  Introduction The study of religious pluralism, like the study of pluralism in general, is recent in modern times; it goes back to post-World War Two period. It is recent in modern Islamic thought as well, but not so in classical Islamic thought, though the epistemes of the two differ. At the peak of the Arab-Islamic culture and civilization,1 the study of other religions was not uncommon, for refutational reasons often, but not only. The socio-cultural, political and economic situation of communities and their traditions impact their visions and views of the different “other”, the “alien” (al-gharīb in Arabic). Territory plays a major role in the way the “other” is presented by the self; the more one is expansive, horizontal in movement, the more they are in including what they meet as part of their tradition; the narrower the geography is, the narrower is the view of the world – exceptions aside. The Greeks, the Romans, the Christians and the Muslims, to name but these, depicted the world and its peoples as far as they could reach and understand; space and time influence perception and the epistemological lenses and categories used in that perception. Modernity has brought immense challenges to both political and cultural sovereignty of the so-called “Islamic world” or “Muslim majority societies.”2 Two major reasons may stand behind why it is “Islamic.” First, it is because of its plurality from its birth that the civilization is called “Islamic civilization”; it embraced different races, ethnicities, languages, cultures and customs; this also means that the “spirit of Islam” has influenced it immensely on various levels; to call it “Arab”, or “Persian” or “Ottoman” or “Andalusian,” or “Malay” civilization is reductive of the diversity within it, and religion appears the feature to use as a name for it, a name that has become problematic as a designation now, for some, despite the realities it portrays. Second, “Islamic civilization” or “Islamic world” is partly a European and modern construction of a “different” neighbouring tradition, and it has historical as well as various factors behind it, religious, cultural, political, and economic. This conceptual construction has been adopted and is in use in the “Islamic world” too. 1  “Arab” here is used as an inclusive linguistic tool and not as a racial or ethnic reference since most important cultural texts were written in this language, though Persian, Turkish and Urdu, to name these, were also important languages of the major Islamic cultural centers in different periods of times and locations during the cultured era of the civilization. As to the use of the term “Islamic” for “Islamic civilization”, and as will be argued here, I in no way mean that everything that was produced in this civilization was related to or bound by strict understandings of religion; “Islamic” here is plural and inclusive of “religious” and “secular” – i.e. secular-religious - achievements or thoughts; and this inclusion includes failures, exclusions, and various minor, non-mainstrean traditions of the whole tradition. 2  Communities have often found ways to co-exist despite political divisions among the modern nation states in the Middle East; see the recent work of Ussama Makdisi which tries to challenge the idea that the region has been in endless conflicts and wars during the twentieth century: The Age of Coexistence: The Ecumenical Frame and the Making of the Modern Arab World (Oakland, CA: University of California Press, 2019); and Firat Oruc, ed., Sites of Pluralism: Community Politics in the Middle East (London: C.  Hurst and Co., UK, and Oxford University Press in US, 2019).

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

3

It is used and abused, depending on the stakeholder, and it is beyond our capacity to deconstruct the nomenclature in a limited space.3 Still, a preliminary approach of some relevant concepts  - like Islam, Islamic, Muslim, tradition, faith, plurality, ­pluralism, and pluralization - is needed. This will be done following this outline in this introduction. First, before highlighting the importance of pluralism in modern studies of religion, from both historical and theological perspectives, brief reference to some classical “Islamic” texts on inter-and-intra comparative religions will be mentioned, not only to show that comparative religions and religious pluralism as scholarly disciplines are not inexistent in the tradition, but most importantly to show that religious pluralism could flourish in premodern times even when the episteme was dominantly “religious” - to use the terms here with reservations. The point here is that the plurality of interpreting one tradition, and the neutral or biased interpretations of other traditions is a confirmation of religious pluralism, however problematic this confirmation might be in the political or theological spheres (more will be said on the italicized words in the next point). Second, with reference to few recent works in the field of “Islamic” intellectual history, tentative definitions on what Islam, Islamic, plurality and pluralism mean will be introduced. Third, before a summary of the chapters composing this volume is finally presented, examples on how pluralism is examined in contemporary Islamic thought will be provided.

1.2  Comparative Religions in Classical Islamic Scholarship In Fī sharʻiyat al-ikhtilāf [On the Legitimacy of Difference] (1990) Ali Oumlil (b. 1940) examines diversity within classical Islamic thought as a way of probing the potential to accommodate modern pluralism, especially political pluralism; in the book, Oumlil says that premodern pluralism episteme is religious, and it can in no way be compared to what is meant by modern pluralism.4 He is right, and I will explain this further below, with reference to contemporary theological pluralism questions. Classical Islamic scholarship shows confidence in referring to different theological and religious worldviews, though often as a form of refuting them. Still, the intellectual exercise practiced by major religious scholars, exegetes, and historians appears unmet if compared with their modern co-religionists. Few examples illustrate this expansive intellect, even within what Oumlil refers to as pre-modern religious pluralism and difference. In historical texts, reference was not limited to Islamic societies and communities, but tried to be as inclusive of other nations and religions as possible. The geographer and historian Ibn Wādih al-Ya‘qūbī (d. 3  Scholarship building on the heritage of Edward Said’s Orientalism (New York: Pantheon Books, 1978), and the important literature of postcolonial theory are highly relevant here; knowledge production norms related to this epistemic world, and beyond, are revisited in the recent work of Wael Hallaq, Restating Orientalism: A Critique of Modern Knowledge (New York: Columbia University Press, 2018). 4  Ali Oumlil, Fī sharʻiyat al-ikhtilāf [On the Legitimacy of Difference] (Beirut: dār at-ṭalīʻa, 1991).

4

M. Hashas

897/898), for instance, quotes from the Bible in his book of history of the world from its creation, and history of the Islamic world untill his times; the book is known as Tārīkh al-Ya‘qūbī [Al-Ya‘qūbī Chronicles], besides his Tārīkh al-buldān [History of Lands] devoted especially to the Maghreb. The great historian and exegete Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī (838–923) does also refer to pre-Islamic prophets and religions in his Tārīkh al-rusul wa al-mulūk [History of the Prophets and Kings], known as Tārikh al-Ṭabarī [Chronicles of al-Ṭabarī], and he quotes Jesus in his voluminous exegis of the Qur’an Tafsīr al-Ṭabarī [al-Ṭabarī Exegesis] – though he quotes him to defend the Islamic worldview. The traveller, geographer and historian al-Mas‘ūdī (896–956) also gives space to especially Christian denominations – which he called Sindūsāt of Byzantium in his voluminous Murūj al-dhahab wa ma‘ādin al-jawhar [The Meadows of Gold and Mines of Gems]; he also lists religions and peoples in a book entitled Al-Maqālāt fī usūl al-adyān [Essays on the Origins of Religions]. Ibn Isḥāq al-Warrāq al-Baghdādī, also known as Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 998), compiled the original and classic encyclopeadic catalogue al-Fihrist [The Catalogue], which contains a list of books, authors, geographies and sciences of all peoples as they were made available in Arabic language at the time. More indepth comparative religions scholarship, though the classical level of scientific comparisons differs in level from those of today, three major texts are examplary. Besides the study of Christianity, Zoroastrianism, Judaism, and Buddhism, the polymath al-Bīrūnī (973–1050), who spent some 40 years in India, examined Buddism from inside, pioneeringly as objectively as he could, in Taḥqīq mā li al-hind min maqūla maqbūla fī al-ʿaql aw mardhūla [Verifying All That the Indians Recount, The Reasonable and the Unreasonable]; he distinguished between educated and uneducated Hindus, and believed that the highest intellectual-religious elite believed that God is one, omnipotent, and eternal, and relinquish from idol worship; he also believed that all major religions share the same values. The contemporary anthropologist Akbar Ahmed says that al-Bīrūnī can be considered the first anthropologist.5 Tāj al-Dīn Muhammad al-Shahrastānī’s (1086–1153) Al-Milal wa al-niḥal [Sects and Creeds] is another pioneering text that is descriptive and highly neutral for its time.6 Eric J. Sharpe says this about al-Shahrastāni: “The honor of writing the first history of religion in world literature seems in fact to belong to the Muslim Shahrastānī, whose Religious Parties and Schools of Philosophy [i.e. Kitāb al-milal] describes and systematizes all religions of the then known world, as far as the boundaries of China.”7 For some, al-Bīrūnī is historicist in his detailed description of Hindu festivals and rituals, though he compares this religion’s diversity with other Abrahamic or Greek religions and rituals, while al-Shahrastānī is theology-focused; he compares theologies, and remains as neutral as possible, more than al-Bīrūnī; both do clearly say in the introductions of their works that they aim  Akbar S. Ahmed, “Al-Beruni: The First Anthropologist,” Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland (RAIN) 60 (1984), 9–10. 6  Tāj al-Dīn Muhammad al-Shahrastānī, Al-Milal wa al-niḥal [Sects and Creeds], Abdelaziz Mohammed al-Wakil, 3 vols (Cairo: mu’assasat al-halabi, 1968). 7  Eric J. Sharpe, Comparative Religion: A History, 2d ed. (LaSalle, IL: Open Court, 1991) 11. 5

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

5

to be descriptive and non-judgemental, though sometimes their Islamic perspective surfaces, still without giving space to judgement.8 The third examplary text from this period of Islamic scholarship is that of the Andalusian Zahirite Ibn Ḥazm (994–1064), Al-Faṣl fī al-milal wa al-ahwā’ wa al-niḥal [The Decisive Word on Sects, Heterodoxies, and Denominations]. The voluminous Decisive Word engages with various world religions, but special focus is given to Christianity and Judaism, for theological belonging to the Abrahamic traditions and the challenge the Islamic community faced from these two theological traditions, and also for the socio-­ political turmoil the al-Andalus was experiencing during the lifetime of Ibn Ḥazm.9 Like his defence of Zahirism, his comparison of religions aimed at refuting the theological foundations of various sects of the studied traditions – unlike the first two earlier texts that are highly objective.10 Franz Rosenthal (1914–2003), who produced the first full translation, with annotations, in English of Ibn Khaldūn’s al-­ Muqaddima [The Muqaddima: An Introduction to History] (in three volumes, 1958) and translated the first volume of History of al-Tabari (1985), says, “The comparative study of religion has been rightly acclaimed as one of the great contributions of Muslim civilization to mankind’s intellectual progress.”11 Besides these examples of known works that opened up to other religious traditions, for mere study, or for a mix of intellectual curiosity and theological refutational attitude, there are also classics that examine the internal pluralism of the tradition, here often with the aim of seeking theological unanimity or defence of mainstream theology, against sectarianism and division. Such texts are abundant, but two examples may suffice here: one is a long text written by the most influential theologian Abū al-Hassan al-Asharī  (874–936): Maqālāt al-islāmiyyīn wa ikhtilāf al-muṣallīn [Discourses of the Proponents of Islam and the Differences among the Worshippers], which deals with ten major sects within Islam, and their sub-sects; while he defends the mainstream Sunni orthodoxy, al-Ash‘arī in this historical and theological work does not excummunicate from the faith for theological reasons; for him, whoever prays towards Mecca with the intention of being Muslim is Muslim; in the introduction he says he aims at describing the

8  Hilman Latief, “Comparative Religion in Medieval Muslim Literature,” The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 23:4 (Fall 2006), 48. 9  Ibn Ḥazm, Al-Faṣl fī al-milal wa al-ahwā’ wa al niḥal [The Decisive Word on Sects, Heterodoxies, and Denominations], vol. 1, 2nd ed., Mohammed Ibrahim Nasr, and Abderrahman Omaira, eds. (Beirut: Dar al-Jil, 1996) 10  George C. Anawati says “In contrast to Ibn Ḥazm, the author (Shahrastānī) does not aim at refuting errors, but merely strives to state the doctrines as objectively as possible.” Georges C. Anawati, “Philosophy, Theology and Mysticism,” in The Legacy of Islam, ed. Joseph Schacht with C. E. Bosworth (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1974) 362. 11  In Hamid Naseem Rafiabadi, “Islam, Christians, and the West,” in Hamid Naseem Rafiabadi, ed., World Religions and Islam: A Critical Survey Part I (New Delhi: Sarup and Sons, 2003) 149; see the introduction of Rosenthal for a general account of the place of historiography in Islamic classical scholarship: A History of Muslim Historiography, 2nd ed. (Leiden: Brill, 1968).

6

M. Hashas

development of each sect, then he discusses the theological issues according to each.12 The other reference text is that of ‘Abd al Qāhir al-Baghdādī (d.1037) Al-Farq bayna al-firaq [The Difference Between Sects]; the author examines the existing theological schools in the light of the Asha‘ari school, and e­ valuates them accordingly; at times he is very harsh with words in launching his refutation of some figures or theological advances that differ from the main orthodoxy he explains and defends.13

1.3  Cumulated Traditions and the Challenge of Modern Pluralism The Canadian historian-anthropologist and theorist of religion Wilfred Cantwell Smith (1916–2000), who directed Harvard University’s Center for the Study of World Religions between 1964–1973, made great advances to the study of comparative religions in the second half of the twentieth century, and paved the way for the development of the idea of religious pluralism that John Hick, his most prominent disciple, pushed further afterwards. In praise of his work, Talal Asad says that Smith is the first anti-essentialist theorist of religion.14 Smith lived in pre-­ Independence India for 7 years, and taught Indian and Islamic History in Lahore; he experienced the plurality of traditions. Later, he was behind the foundation of McGill’s University Institute of Islamic Studies in 1952. He authored On Modern Islam in India (1943), The Muslim League (1945), Pakistan as an Islamic State (1954), and On Understanding Islam (1981), among other texts on Faith, Scripture, and World Theology. Smith was a Christian believer and an ordained Presbyterian minister. It is in his classical work The Meaning and End of Religion (1962) that Smith critiques the concept of “religion” as a European construct of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, as a result of identity politics between the Catholics and Protestants, which was later adopted by Enlightenment conceptual categorizations; “religio”, which originally meant a relationship or connection between man and God, has elapsed in post-Renaissance Europe. Smith also says that other world religious traditions did not first present themselves as clear systems of religion; rather, they presented themselves as a variety of faith beliefs and practices, or as an

 Abū al-Hassan al-Ash‘arī, Maqālāt al-islāmiyyīn wa ikhtilāf al-muṣallīn [Discourses of the Proponents of Islam and the Differences among the Worshippers], 2 vols., ed. Mohammed Muhy ed-Din Abdelhamid (Seida, Beirut: al-Maktaba al-‘aṣriyya, 1999). 13  ‘Abd al Qāhir al-Baghdādī, Al-Farq bayna al-firaq, ed. Mohammed Othman al-Khisht (Cairo: Maktabat Ibn Sina, n.d.). 14  Talal Asad, “Reading a Modern Classic: W.  C. Smith’s “The Meaning and End of Religion,” History of Religions, Vol. 40, No. 3 (February 2001), 205–222. 12

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

7

accummulation of traditions. He notes that in Arabic there is no equivalent word for religion, and that the used term “dīn” does not mean exactly “religion.”15 Instead, Smith proposes to maintain the word “faith” or “piety” to express religiosity, and intimate relation and connection with the divine that is in constant change, which the word “religion” cannot grasp, since it appears static as a concept, while we know that it is a collective system that contains personal, ethnic, linguistic, geographic, communitarian, political and historical elements that change over time and space. That is why the title of his work means the real end (“termination” of religion) as well as its “objective,” i.e. personal piety and moral responsibility. Most importantly for our purposes here, Smith proposes the concept of “cumulative tradition” to reflect the plurality of any global faith and organized religion. By the concept he means the following: By ‘cumulative tradition’ I mean the entire mass of overt objective data that constitute the historical deposit, as it were, of the past religious life of the cummunity in question: temples, scriptures, theological systems, dance patterns, legal and other social institutions, conventions, moral codes, myths and so on; anything that can be and is transmitted from one person, one generation, to another, and that an historian can observe.16

When it comes to the “Islamic cumulative tradition” or the “Islamic complex”17 – or the Islamic “great affair” as he calls it in “Islamic History as a Concept”18 – he says that it is the overall human formation, based on the interaction of Muslims with their faith: The Islamic tradition that modern Muslims inherit, and that observers see, has been the handiwork of Muslims. The process of their constructing ithas been mundane. Any divine pattern in it that Muslim faith may discern, God has put in it by working through the intermediary of persons.19

In further explaining how is the “cumulative tradition” formed, Smith devotes Chapter Six of the book to speak on “Faith”20 and gives four major aspects of its manifestation in human life and history: art, community, character, ritual and morality. First, art, life faith, “points beyond itself, to the spirit of the man who framed it and beyond him to the transcendent vision that he saw”21 [before he expressed it in  “Dīn” has the same linguistic root of the word “dayn”, which means “debt” in Arabic; and “acceptance of faith” in the Islamic tradition is a “debt”, or an “amāna”, that the “believer” and human beings in general have to maintain (See Qur’an 33:72). 16  Wilfred Cantwell Smith, The Meaning and End of Religion (New York: The New American Library of World Literature, 1964), 140. 17  Ibid, 147. 18  “Islam is in every sense a great affair,” in Smith, On Understanding Islam: Selected Studies (Mouton Publishing: The Hague, New York, 1981) 4 (In Chapter 1, “Islamic History as a Concept”). 19  Smith, The Meaning and End of Religion, 1964, 148. 20  Smith defines faith as follows: “Without yet knowing what it is, we may nontheless affirm with confidence that there is some personal and inner quality in the life of some men, and to it we give the name faith, in relation to which overt observables are for those men religiously significant.” Smith, The Meaning and End of Religion, 1964, 155. 21  Ibid, 156. 15

8

M. Hashas

art/faith]. Second, the community remains a reflection of the religious practices of its faithful members; the community cannot be understood without the faith and beliefs of its members, while the latter, faith, could be understood without the community. Third, character reflects one’s faith and belonging; sometimes meeting some individuals marks the encounter as if it were an encounter with the tradition/ faith of that individual itself. It is persons’ characters that carry on the experience of faith and become its expression, though none of us is in a position to judge to what extent such an embodiment is or might be.22 Fourth, ritual and morality: these two may intertwine, as is the case with Jewish Torah and Islamic Shari‘a; they are not only rituals but containers of morality of these two faiths. After these four faith expressions of the “cumulative tradition”, Smith centralizes the intellectual statements of the faith; that is, the theology or theologies of the faith; here, he sees them, again, as personal expressions of the human interaction with the transcendent; theological statements, he contends, are by and for persons about transcendence; he says “Theology is part of the traditions, is part of this world. Faith lies beyond theology, in the hearts of men. Truth lies beyond faith, in the heart of God.”23 Seeing how intelligible and unintelligible it may be, faith can be compared with “love”; it can be expressed through emotions, holding hands, hugs, moral sacrifice, and many other ways.24 This personalization of faith drives to the idea that cumulative tradition is dynamic, changing, and in constant flux; “it is ever changing, ever accummulating, ever fresh.”25 So, “To see faith truly is to see it actually, not ideally. This means historically; with continuity but not identity.”26 Because faith is personal, “there is no generic Christian faith; no ‘Buddhist faith’, no ‘Hindu faith’, no ‘Jewish faith.’ There is only my faith, and yours, and that of my Shinto friend, of my particular Jewish neighbour […]. In the eyes of God each of us is a person, not a type.”27 Overall, Smith relativizes all exclusivist truth claims of world religions, and burdens persons and their cumulative traditions with the moral responsibility of seeking faith to the deepest levels possible. He opens the door for the plurality of truths. He says: There is no ideal faith that I ought to have. There is God whom I ought to see, and a neighbour whom I ought to love. These must suffice me; and my faith is my ability to see that they abundantaly more than suffice. The ideal towards which I move is not an ideal of my own faith but is God Himself, and my neighbour himself.28

 Ibid, 161.  Ibid, 168. 24  Ibid, 197. 25  Ibid, 168. 26  Ibid, 171. 27  Ibid, 172. 28  Ibid, 172. 22 23

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

9

At the end of the book, Smith calls Christians to develop a “new theology” “to be more modern and more devout, and more representative of the majesty of God.” He also calls the Muslim community “to fully account for the faith of others and to the dynamics and historicity of its own tradition.”29 He adds that apart from views from insiders and outsiders to a religious tradition, a “new generation of religious understanding” needs to be developed, based on the collaboration of various traditions.30 This early call for religious collaboration is what his most prominent disciple John Hick responded to and developed in what has become known as “religious pluralism.” John Hick (1922–2012) was a British philosopher of religion and Christian theologian who taught mostly in American universities. He was twice a subject of heresy preceedings, in 1961 and 1962; he questioned the literal historicity of the Virgin Birth of Jesus Christ. After a counter-appeal, Hick became a member of the presbetery a year later. He repeatedly acknowledges the influence of Smith on his theory of religious pluralism.31 His encounter with theologians and scholars of other faiths also contributed to the formation of his belief that other faiths teach similar values as his own Christian faith does. In the Islamic world, he especially acknowledges his contacts with the renowned Indian Seyed Hasan Askari (1932–2008), a staunch defender of inter-religious spirituality and humanism from an Islamic perspective. Hick’s philosophy of religion is best introduced in his God and the Universe of Faiths (1973). His philosophy of pluralism is outlined in Problems of Religious Pluralism (1985). It is in Chapter Three “A Philosophy of Religious Pluralism” of Problems of Religious Pluralism that Hick outlines his theory, basing it on examples from the Christian faith first, since Christian faiths have been debating the issue for the last 150 years, he says,32 and making comparative examples to some other faiths afterwords. It is here that he introduces the famous distinctions: exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism.33 By exclusivism Hick means that the Church, since Nicea Council in 325 AD, relates salvation/liberation exclusively to one particular tradition, its own; other traditions are outside the sphere of this salvation (extra ecclesiam nulla salus; outside the Church, no salvation); this exclusion still lives among some fundamentalist Christians and marginal churches.34 A lighter road is that of inclusivism; here the view is that Christ’s atonement is seen to have covered all human sin, and all humans are open to God’s mercy even if they might have never heard of why he lived; salvation here is a gradual transformation of individuals and  Ibid, 178.  Ibid, 180. 31  John Hick, Problems of Religious Pluralism (New York: St Martin’s Press, 1985) 31, 39. 32  Ibid, 31. 33  Alan Race also introduced this distinction apparently a little earlier in print, but I stick to Hick here since there is a lineage in his thought based on the work of Smith, an important scholar of Islam, the focus of this volume. See Alan Race, Christians and Religious Pluralism: Patterns in the Christian Theology of Religions (London: SCM Press, 1983). 34  Ibid, 31. 29 30

10

M. Hashas

societies; non-Christians are “anonymous Christians” in the words of the Austrian theologian Karl Rahner (d. 1984), or “honorary Christians” in the words of Hick himself.35 For Hick, inclusivism is still dogmatic; so, he seeks an advanced inclusion, and proposes pluralism. He proposes Ultimate Reality and the Real as the plural name to give to the pluralist Deity or God, or Yahweh, Shiva or Allah that world traditions share or refer to differently; in Arabic it is al-ḥaq, which is one of the prominent ninety-nine names/attributes of God in the Islamic tradition.36 Accordingly, “Pluralism, then, is the view that the transformation of human existence from self-centredness to Reality-centredness is taking place in different ways within the contexts of all the great religious traditions. There is not merely one way but a plurality of ways of salvation or liberation.”37 From the Christian perspective, and to overcome the Trinity which makes pluralism difficult, Hick underlines the (fourth) Chalcedon Council of 451 AD, and not the (first) Council of Nicea of 325 AD; the Chalcedon Council attributes to Jesus two natures: one divine, and one human; and this gives space to human agency, and to the idea that God acts in and through the individual.38 Recognition of the Real as a plural form of religions is a recognition from each tradition “that the divine Reality exceeds the reach of our earthly speech and thought. It cannot be encompassed in human concepts. It is infinite, eternal, limitlessly rich beyond the scope of our finite conceiving or experiencng.”39 He adds, “Let us then both avoid the particular names used within the particular tradition and yet use a term which is consonant with the faith of each of them – Ultimate Reality, or the Real.”40 Such a conception is also a recognition of truth within the various religious traditions, “The great world traditions […] are independently valid.”41 Hick includes in this pluralistic framework also non-theistic traditions, as well as secular faiths, like Marxism, Maoism, and humanism, which can be examined by taking into account socio-political human transformations.42 Hick will be returned to after the following section.

 Ibid, 33.  Hick says, “From the pluralist point of view, Yahweh and Shiva are not rival gods, or rival claimants to be the one and only God, but rather too different concrete historical personae in terms of which the ultimate divine Reality is present and responded to by different large historical communities within different strands of the human story.” Ibid, 42. 37  Ibid, 34. 38  Ibid, 35. 39  Ibid, 39. 40  Ibid, 39. 41  Ibid, 44. 42  Ibid, 43–44. 35 36

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

11

1.4  C  oncepts: Islam, Islamic, Muslim; Plurality, Pluralism, Pluralization Principally, and without going through the still relevant conceptual clarifications proposed by Marshall G.S. Hodgson in The Venture of Islam,43 it suffices to say that Islam means, or at least should mean, the faith, the creed as it is known, with five pillars of “Islam” and five pillars of “faith”/al-īmān, and how each Muslim thinks of them and observes them, minimally or maximally, be they intellectual or lay Muslims. Islam is what mainstream believers say about it and do with it, and mainstream here can be the majority of all Muslims, or the majority within one of the classical major sects. By Islamic is meant what Muslims form or construct or do with their acts, which they consider to be called for or inspired by their faith; of course there are acts that are committed by Muslims, which neither themselves nor their faith calls for, like robbing, or killing, or cheating. What is Islamic is what is done with good intent as inspired by the faith. However, human history tells us that there is so much done by Muslims – and this applies to Hindus, Jews, Christians, etc. – which they consider Islamic but still remains outside the realm of “true faith,” to use the term with reservations. At the end, the study of religions, history, civilizations, and their differences and similarities, are rich because each believer interprets the faith s-he belongs to as s-he wishes, or according to various circumstances. Many religious acts take the label of religion, though their driving force may be non-­ religious; such a driving force could be economic, political, cultural, racial, etc., or a mixture of these forces. As to what is Islamic, it remains the core of the matter in the strudy of pluralism, be it theological, cultural or political pluralism. For practical and easy use here, Islamic is used to mean whatever that was produced and defended in the Islamic world from the advent of Islam to the first encounter with modernity, like the 1798 Napoleonic campaigng  and the Ottoman Tanzimat that “introduced” a “modern” worldview to the classical Islamic worldview, followed by the formation of nation states in the vast “Islamic worlds.”44 I am not saying that what is done or achieved by Muslims now in modern times, since c. 1800s, is not Islamic; I am just saying that the term can be more adequate for the past centuries of Islamic governance, however non-Islamic or anti-Islamic they might have been at certain historical episodes; bloody periods of civil wars within the Islamic lands can be considered Islamic because they happend in that epistemological worldview before modern times, and at the hands of Muslims, even if they might be also considered  Marshall G.S. Hodgson, The Venture of Islam: Conscience and History in a World Civilization, Vol. 1/3: The Classical Age of Islam (Chicago and London: Chicago University Press, 1974) 57–60. 44  Ahmad S.  Dallal reads eighteenth century Islamic thought on reform before the Napoleonic campaign and argues that there was a profound reformist-modernist work being done within the tradition by important scholars. This argument needs to be scrutinized, since it helps in revisiting the history of ideas of this tradition and the common nomenclature related to it, which are sometimes essentialist. See: Ahmad S. Dallal, Islam Without Europe: Traditions of Reform in Eighteenth Century Islamic Thought (Chapel Hill: North Carolina Press, 2018). 43

12

M. Hashas

anti-­Islamic as individual acts or separate episodes. I intend Islamic here as a chronological denominator more that as a faith basis or judgement on the norms and acts of people. In other words, and consequently, one may distinguish between the (1) Islamic World, prior to modern-colonialism and the rise of nation states in the vast territories of Islam, and the (2) current Muslim majority societies that are negotiating tradition and modernity, and which one may call the Muslim World,45 thus centralizing the individuals, not their faith as the major agent or epistemic frame. However, even this distinction does not help much, and names relative to geographies and nations, instead of labels relative to faith, like North Africa, the Balkans, Arabia, the Gulf, West Asia, Middle East, etc., could be more suitable to depict realities in contexts classically called “Islamic”, since their epistemic framework is no longer fully classical, nor is it fully modern; it is hybrid, at least politically; it is then erroneous to give such a plural world a full religious referent. This will take time to be used; it is related to the still ongoing resurgence of religion in these “Muslim worlds,” and the sooner non-faith based terms are used the better; using them now in this historical period often serves internal and external powers of authoritarianism, totalitarianism, hegemony and imperialism.46 And it should not eclipse our eye that there is a lot that is “Islamic” and “Muslim” outside the so-called orthodox “Islamic world” and “Muslim societies”; this outer-islamicity, to call it so, is not produced only by Muslims in minority contexts, as in Europe and North America, but also, and most importantly, by non-orthodox Muslims, i.e. human beings that do not recognize themselves as Muslim, but do act in ways that correspond to the Islamic ethical worldview. Such outer-islamicity is produced by agents that may be called “unorthodox Muslims”, though they themselves may very much object to such a description, the way a lot of Muslims may object to being descrived solely as “Muslim.” Moral philosophy, from an Islamic perspective, could flourish if this unorthodox islamicity is taken into consideration. The current volume, however, does not concern itself with pluralism from such a perspective  of unorthodox islamicity, though sporadic notes on the matter will be found in few theoretical chapters of this volume, as will be clarified in due course below. If such notes on concepts are taken into account it becomes easier to say that pluralism means not only tolerance of diversity of norms as held by different communities and sects of the same religion, or different communities of different religious and moral beliefs; rather, pluralism is an affirmed recognition of such  In Arabic language, it is erroneous to refer to inanimate objects or irrational beings with the adjective “Muslim”; “Muslim” is for rational animates (human beings) only; “Islamic” is for acts or objects. One cannot force such a distinction on other languages, but the roots are important to bear in mind. For instance, in Italian, it is common to refer to Muslims as “Islamici,” and we know in current times that “islamici” is closer to meaning to “Islamists” in English; when Italian TVs and media outlets refer to ordinary Muslims as “Islamici” in headlines, it appears accusative, although not so in serious Italian scholarship which is now gradually using “Musulmani” instead of “Islamici” to refer to ordinary Muslims. 46  See for example: Cemil Aydin, The Idea of the Muslim World: A Global Intellectual History (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2017). 45

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

13

tolerance; while plurality may be defined as an acceptance of diversity of the world a priori, pluralism is an acceptance of this diversity a posteriori; pluralism is a conscience exercise of thought, a confirmed admission of such a plurality. One may think also of pluralization as an intellectual and political exercise which aims at institutionalizing pluralism; it may be endorsed by individuals, thinkers, state institutions or representative bodies of marginalized communities, beliefs, languages, ethnicities, etc. Affirmative actions, for instance, are a form of pluralization; they express an affirmation of pluralism as a doctrine, or as a way of thought and way of being. Pluralization is the way for recognition, recognition of diversity and the right to differ and be different, on the basis of constitutional law and equal citizenship.47 The important recent work that captures the complexity of defining what is Islam and Islamic is that of Shahab Ahmed (d. 2015): What is Islam? The Importance of Being Islamic (2015). First, Ahmed centralizes a different heartland of Islam, and calls it the Balkans-to-Bengal Complex, which includes especially Turkish, Persian, and Urdu speaking worlds, and not the Arabic speaking worlds, though he refers to major Arabic classics in philosophy, theology, jurisprudence, literature, poetry and Sufism. Second, he challenges the secular vs. religious separation by showing that since the Islamic tradition did not have an institutional theological hierarchy, it always experienced faith with more plurality and flexibility than what appears to be the case when the secular vs. religion division is applied to it. That is why he ultimately says that the Islamic appears to be a coherent logic of contradictions; for example, some major legal theorists could sing poetry of love and ghazal at a time when fiqh and ulema all appear rigid and against poetry; Ibn Ḥazm’s Ṭawq al-ḥamāma [The Ring of the Dove] on the art of love is one example, and the great dissemination of Ibn ‘Arabī’s al-Futūḥāt al-makkiyya [Meccan Openings] does not eclipse the fact that many fiqh scholars defamed his faith or apostecized him; another example is that of wine drinking; though its prohibition was gradual in the Qur’an for the effets it leads to, and though great imāms like Abū Hanīfa (699–767) allowed drinking as long as it does not intoxicate, though he himself did not drink, Islamic communities and palace feasts of some Caliphs are well chronicled, and wine is openly celebrated in them. Third, and most importantly, Shahab Ahmed gives six areas in which it is difficult and complicated to withdraw a line between the secular and religious, the Islamic and non-Islamic; these areas are as follows: (1) philosophy, (2) Sufism, (3) the Illumination of al-Suhrāwardī (d. 1191) and Unity of Existence of Ibn ‘Arabī (d. 1240), (4) the poetry of love and ghazal (of Ferdowsī (d. 1020), Nizāmī (d. 1209), Sa‘dī (d. 1291), ‘Aṭṭār (d. 1221), Rūmī (d. 1293), Hāfiẓ (d. 1390), and Jāmi‘ (d. 1492)), and (5) art (e.g. “Islamic wine-cup, wine-vessels with the name of God and Emperor Jahangir on them, Islamic portraiture, etc.). Through examples from major philosophical and literary texts Ahmed wants to show that  In contemporary liberal political theory, besides the concepts of multiculturalism, recognition, reasonable pluralism, etc., that have been heavilty studied for the last three decades, Alessandro Ferrara speaks of “hyperpluralism” and the way to secure it for reformed [Rawlsian] political liberalism: The Democratic Horizon: Hyperpluralism and the Renewal of Political Liberalism (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014).

47

14

M. Hashas

these were not marginal views in the Islamic tradition, but views lived by political figures in leading positions and lived or at least written about by philosophers-­ theologians-­Sufis-fuqahā who have their place in the intellectual world of Islam; he says: “These contradictory claims by Muslims about the normative constitution of Islam were claims made, not on the social and political and intellectual margins of the Muslims’ discourses about Islam, but rather at the very social and political and intellectual center of Muslims’ discourses about Islam.”48 What Ahmed wishes to underline is the fact that such blur between divine transcendence and divine immanence is like the blur between “experiential ḥaqīqa” and “prescriptive shari‘a” wherein the first is based on “gnostic discipline” and the latter on “discipline”; the first represents in the lenses of Sufism “higher truth” while the latter “lower truth.”49 He clarifies this by saying that such trajectories of Sufis should be conceived not as “anti-nomian” or against the law, but as “para-nomian” or “supra-nomian”, i.e. beside or beyond the law.50 In The Culture of Ambiguity: Towards another History of Islam (first appeared in German in 2011 and translated into Arabic in 2017) the German Arabist Thomas Bauer, too, emphasizes plurality in premodern Islamic tradition, and critiques the way it has fallen into rigid modern interpretations during the last two centuries of encounter with European modernity and the idea of the nation state. Bauer uses especially texts from jurisprudence and Arabic literature and grammar to demonstrate the great wealth of the language and how it was used by scholars to interpret differently their tradition. The major idea of the author is that Europeans have not been able to understand the linguistic plurality of Arabic texts and how that impacted legal flexibility. He blames the idea of European Enlightenment and its rigid rationalism that is anti-pluralist; Enlightenment enchanted reason and made the path to truth one and only, while he thinks classical jurists did not busy themselves with this one question of truth, but rather worked intellectually to find different ways to it. He gives the example of Imām Mālik (711–795) and how he refused to make of his collections of hadiths a basic and must-follow text for all Islamic schools and communities as the Abbasid Caliph al-Manṣūr (r. 754–775) proposed to him personally in a visit to Medina for pilgrimage; Imām Mālik proposed, instead, that people should be left to choose what suits their conditions best.51 Another example of early plurality in the tradition is the leniency of the Third Guided Caliph ‘Uthman in forcing vocalization on the Qur’anic collected text, the Muṣḥaf, as a form of permitted difference in the recitation of the sacred text.52 This developed later into some fourteen  Shahab Ahmed, What is Islam? The Importance of Being Islamic (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2015) 72–73. 49  Ibid, 98. 50  Ibid, 97. 51  As narrated by al-Suyūṭī (d. 1505) in Thomas Bauer, Thaqāfat al-iltibās: naḥwa tārīkhin ākhar li al-islām [The Culture of Ambiguity: Towards another History of Islam], trans. Rida Qurb (Beirut: matbū‘āt al-jamal, 2017) 209. The German original title is Die Kultur der Ambiguität: Eine andere Geschichte des Islams. The English translation is planned for 2021. 52  Ibid, 210. 48

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

15

ways of Qur’anic recitations (al-qirā’āt), seven of which are the most common worldwide today. Bauer is very critical of the “Islamization of Islam” that Salafi Islam and Salafi political Islam have led the Islamic tradition into. He contends that the Salafis, like the European Orientalist political views of Islam, reduce the plurality of interpretations of Islamic law into the minimum to serve their quest for political power and the restoration of the Shari‘a State, which he thinks is a dire defamation and deformation of Shari‘a and Islam. He is critical of reducing the Islamic tradition to law, while ignoring these major fields that have to be accounted for from civilizational studies perspective: faith, law, politics, literature, arts, sexual culture, treatment of friends and strangers, and treatment of minorities.53 Bauer’s argument is similar to that of Wael Hallaq, among others, on the multiple and plural interpretations of shari‘a in pre-modern times, and to its deformed codifications in modern times.54

1.5  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought A comparative encounter of John Hick’s philosophy with a contemporary Muslim philosopher is well-presented in the work of Adnan Aslan: Religious Pluralism in the Christian and Islamic Philosophy: The Thought of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr (originally published in 1994). Briefly, I focalize three points form this comparison as a way of highlighting the difficulties of talking about pluralism and theorizing it. One, Hick calls religious truth claims, including the non-theistic ones and non-revealed ones, to change their theological doctrines to adjust to the theory of religious pluralism, while Nasr agrees with the call but at the same time differs from it; he asks for these religious truths to be accepted as they claim to be, as truths, and reserves this to the revealed religions only. Two, while Hick believes in science and human ability to generate the good, Nasr is skeptic about the faculty of reason and is very critical of secular science and its ability to answer human quests for the Real; instead, he believes that it is the human intellect, empowered by the mystical vision, and not pure reason alone, that can quench such a human thirst.55  Bauer, Thaqāfat al-iltibās [The Culture of Ambiguity], 2017, 8. For instance, he says that he hardly found that ḥudūd legal sanctions were applied by jurists throughout the centuries during all his years of the study of Islamic law and history of Islamic societies, with the exception of one case in some Ottoman village in the sixteenth century, a case of stoning an adulterer, a case verdict which some other judges did not agree with. For another discipline, he says that Ibn Nebātta (d. 1366) and Ibn Khaldūn (d. 1406), for example, had a secular view of world history (Bauer, 393–400). 54  Wael Hallaq, Shari‘a: Theory, Practice, Transformations (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2009); The Impossible State: Islam, Politics, and Modernity’s Moral Predicament (New York: Columbia University Press, 2013). 55  Adnan Aslan, Religious Pluralism in the Christian and Islamic Philosophy: The Thought of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr [1994] (London: Routledge, 2004) xii-xiii. (Aslan’s first name is also found written as Ednan in some publications). 53

16

M. Hashas

Aslan further illustrates this difference by drawing attention to Nasr’s emphasis on his distinction between philosophy as a rational and experiential discipline, and metaphysics (or scientia sacra) as an intellectual – besides being rational – discipline that focalizes mystical vision; “Philosophy aims to convince people while metaphysics aims to illuminate and sanctify those who are prepared to undergo such a transformation”; otherwise put, writes Aslan, Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason ­represents philosophy while Ibn ‘Arabī’s Bezels of Wisdom represents metaphysics.56 Three, and to take Jewish-Christian-Muslim views on divine law as an example of difference, this can be said: Judaism is based on the fear of God, Christianity on the love of God, and Islam on knowledge of God. If the halakha and shari‘a have special place in Judaic and Islamic traditions, divine law hardly has this place in Christianity [which developed within imperial Roman times of established laws]57; this makes their perceptions of the divine very different and contradictory as well, if read only rationally, philosophically. Differences like these, as those that concern the place of Jesus in the Christian and Islamic traditions, are very difficult to bring to the table of plural negotiations and theorizing. Hick finds difficulties within his own Christian tradition to bring views together. And Nasr waits for “modern epistemology and modern philosophy” advances so as to be able to develop a thinking whereby “a single reality” can be seen “in two different ways.”58 Seeing how secular modern philosophy is, Nasr says he does not have high hopes, unless metaphysics dominates theological and philosophical debates. After these notes on comparative religions, I turn to focalize the Islamic tradition but I still remain in the company of Adnan Aslan first. In the same work abovementioned, Aslan presents his views on Islamic religious pluralism based on the two major Islamic sources, the Qur’an and the Prophetic Sunna. While he underlines that this Islamic pluralism is advanced in comparison with the other world religions, he also underlines the fact that it should not be compared with the modern secular-­ liberal concepts of pluralism, since the latter are new to all traditions and have a different epistemological paradigm deeply secular. He outlines six propositions of an Islamic pluralistic worldview, based on Qur’anic affirmations: (1) The universality as well as the diversity of God’s revelation to human kind is affirmed; i.e. the God of Muslims is the God of all: “Unto Allah belong the East and West, and whithersoever you turn, there is Allah’s countenance. For Allah is All-Embracing, All-Knowing” (Qur’an 2:115). (2) Multiplicity of races, colours, communities and religions is regarded as the signs of God’s mercy and glory exhibited through his creatures; “O Humankind! Verily we have created you of a male and female, and we have distributed you in nations and tribes that you might know one another and recognize that, in the  Ibid, 2004, xiii.  Ibid, 203. 58  Ibid, 204. In an interview Aslan made with Nasr and Hick in Birmingham, at Hick’s house on 25th October 1994, Nasr said: “I do not believe that science can guide theology”, to which Hick replies in the affirmative: “I can agree with that.” 56 57

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

(3)

(4)

(5)

(6)

17

sight of God the most honourable of you is the most pious. Verily God is wise and all knowing” (49:13). Every revealed religion can be named as islam, when it is seen as “a state of submission to God” (literally islam); “Abraham was not a Jew nor yet a Christian; but he was true in faith (ḥanīf) and bowed his will to Allah’s, (as) muslim, and he joined not gods with Allah” (3:67); [Abraham in his prayer says:] “Our Lord! make us muslims, bowing to your will and of our progeny a people muslim, bowing to your will” (2:128). There is no compulsion in religion; “Let there be no compulsion in religion; Truth stands out clear from Error; whoever rejects Evil and believes in Allah has grasped the most trustworthy handhold, that never breaks. And God hears and knows all things” (2:256); “Say ‘The Truth is from your Lord’: let him who will, believe; let him who will, reject (it)” (18:29); “If it had been the Lord’s Will you then compel mankind against their will to believe” (10:99). The religion before God is Islam; “The religion before God is Islam (submission to His Will)” (3:19); “If anyone desires a religion other than Islam (submission to Allah) never will it be accepted of him; in the hereafter he will be in the ranks of those who have lost (all spiritual good)” (3:85). Those who believe in God and the Last Day and work righteousness (‘amila ṣāliḥan) will be saved; “Those who believe (in the Qur’an), and those who follow the Jewish (scriptures), and the Christians and the Sabians, any who believe in Allah and the Last Day and work righteousness, shall have their reward with their Lord; on them shall be no fear, nor shall they grieve” (2:62); “Those who believe (in the Qur’an), those who follow the Jewish (scriptures), and the Sabians and the Christians - any who believe in Allah and the Last Day and work righteousness  – on them shall be no fear nor shall they grieve” (5:69); “Whoever works righteousness man and woman, and has Faith, verily to him We give a new life and life that is good and pure, We will bestow on such their reward according to the best of their actions” (16:97).59

Importantly, the Qur’an does not say that by being Muslim one is saved; rather, it always emphasizes the deeds of the person or the community concerned; it does the same when it refers to Jews and Christians: while it recognizes them as divine religions, and also speaks of the changes that have occurred to them, which makes Islam their continuity and replacement, it also does not say that by being Jewish or Christian per se the person is wrong; it centralizes the deeds (‘amal, pl. a‘māl) of the person and qualifies it as good even when it comes from a believer that is not

 Aslan, Religious Pluralism, 2004, 187–193. Aslan quotes Isma‘il Raji al-Faruqi (d. 1986) saying: “no religion in the world has yet made belief in the truth of other religions a necessary condition of its own faith and witness” (Aslan, 193). On this note, it should be noted that al-Faruqi was active on interreligious dialogue and interfaith theology, and attempted theorizing a critical world theology in “Meta–Religion: Towards A Critical World Theology,” The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences, Vol. 3, No. 1 (September 1986).13–57.

59

18

M. Hashas

Muslim; having faith, which is an inner act and a natural given (fiṭra), is good, but good deeds are the most valued.60 From the Prophetic Sunna, Aslan cites the Medina Charter and its 47 articles, as dictated by the Prophet Muhammad, which included the Jewish tribes within the Islamic umma, with duties and rights; the Prophet did the same in sending letters to the Christians of Najran; this system of dhimmitude later included also the Zoroastrians of Persia, and the Hindus and Buddhists of India. Similarly, later Caliphs could not impinge on the rights of these protected minorities since the Qur’an and the Prophet themselves protected them. Caliph ‘Umar when he conquered Jerusalem did the same for example, and guaranteed the rights of Jews and Christians in the city. Talented Christians and Jews found their place to higher positions in the administrations of the Abbasids, the Umayyads in al-Andalus, the Ottomans, and elsewhere.61 Read in the light of modern challenges, these accounts of Islamic religious pluralism from its founding sources and early history have been of great value in preserving religious diversity at a time when religious pluralism was a scarce value; however, in modern times, classical religious pluralism has been facing serious challenges, especially with regards to equality and liberty issues. For many, classical Islamic religious pluralism is a form of “tolerance” from power-position or from supremacist-position, and is not equivalent to “toleration as equals”, tolerance on the basis of equal citizenship, and “recognition” of diversity on this basis for social justice, as has been developed in modern Euro-American political thought.62 This gradually leads us to related issues in Muslim majority societies nowadays. The Tanzanian-American renowned scholar Abdulaziz Sachedina (b. 1942) admits the difficulty of speaking of religious pluralism both among different traditions as well as among different groups and communities of the same tradition. He gives the example of his meeting with various religious leaders of Iraqi sects and denominations in Amman, Jordan, in 2003; he says that despite the dire need for co-existence and peace among these denominations, Muslim and Christian, Shi‘i and Sunni, there was no sign of reconciliation between them.63 In his work Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism (2001), Sachedina collects all the relevant Qur’anic verses, prophetic sayings, as well as citations from various Muslim theologians and jurists on religious pluralism in Islam, and finds clear divine prescriptions on diversity and respect of difference; the citation of Imām ‘Ali, “man is either your brother in faith or your equal in humanity” finds frequent echoes in the text. A Qur’anic verse opens his first chapter: “And if thy Lord had willed, whoever is in the earth  Aslan, Religious Pluralism, 2004, 195.  Ibid, 196–20062  On the theme of tolerance and recognition, see: Charles Taylor, Multiculturalism: Examining the Politics of Recognition, ed. and intr. Amy Gutmann (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994); Anna Elizabetta Galleotti, Toleration as Recognition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002). 63   Abdulaziz Sachedina, “Advancing Religious Pluralism in Islam,” Religion Compass 4/4 (2010): 228. 60 61

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

19

would have believed, all of them, all together” (10:99). On historical facts, he says that Muslims did not always stay faithful to these teachings; the early model of the Prophetic civil Islam that was more pluralistic was ignored when Islam became political and ideological, and when the notion of the umma became more restrictive to Muslims from a power-centered perspective.64 Sachedina believes that it is rational to expect religious people to uphold their doctrines as the only or best path for salvation, otherwise there would have been no need for them to believe in the first place; this applies to Muslims and non-Muslims alike. He presents three major intertwining meanings of Islam that can embrace the diversity within the tradition: (1) Islam as a religious system that provides a set of creeds, rituals, moral and legal guidelines to its followers; (2) Islam as a historical phenomenon that provides its followers with an identity that is rooted in the past, and expansive in geography, thus able to give a national and transnational sense of identity; (3) Islam as a civilization that influences modern socio-cultural realities in Islamic majority societies and their aspirations to find diverse answers to their needs in a globalizing world.65 He contends that Muslims generally are more open to global trends of multiculturalism and “Live and let live” approach; the problem is with the exclusivist trend among them which considers the Islamic way the way to live, and suspects dialogue as a form of relativising one’s faith and falling prey to foreign hegemony.66 At the same time, he says that religious exclusivist doctrines do not necessarily lead to hate of the different other; the exclusivist approach becomes dangerous when fuelled with nationalist and military zeal, which are often reactions against radical secularism.67 The Qur’anic verse “You are the best community ever brought forth to human kind. You enjoin what is right and forbid what is wrong and believe in Allah” (3: 110) is read as a moral invocation to uphold an ethical-legal order responsibly, and does not select Muslims or their religion without the crucial criterion of doing good.68 Sachedina’s democratic pluralism, which does not deny the influence of modern concepts in the formulation of questions about human dignity and autonomy, does allow religious expressions in the public sphere as long as they are democratic and defend the principle of equality and free choice of belief; he contends that Islam as well as Islamic history do distinguish between the religious (the private) and the political (the public) through ‘ibādāt [worship rituals] versus mu‘āmalāt [‘public’ affairs] classical differentiation; he calls it “functional secularity.”69 His position as an insider to the tradition, as he says, holds a “different epistemic position” to bridge a “cognitive gap” between classical and modern concepts. In so doing, he 64  Abdulaziz Sachedina, Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 138. 65  Ibid, 15. 66  Sachedina, “Advancing Religious Pluralism in Islam,” 223. 67  Sachedina, “Advancing Religious Pluralism in Islam,” 227–228; Sachedina, Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism, 8. 68  Sachedina, Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism, 135. 69  Ibid, 137.

20

M. Hashas

calls for bringing to the fore the history and contemporary realities of how Muslims themselves have dealt with the outsiders in belief, i.e. with non-Muslims, instead of dealing with normative precepts alone.70 Sachedina’s democratic religious pluralism is founded, as he claims, on the “universal human religiosity” that aims at founding a just society on earth.71 In real politics and society, this universal religiosity finds space in what he calls “general religion” – unlike “generic religion” which is intellectual, secular and envisions the disappearance of religion and its practices, or “intolerant institutional religiosity” that is nationalist in spirit and narrow-minded, according to him. “General religion” is a modern universal religious consciousness that has arisen as a reaction against radical and individualist secularism and excessive materialist consumerism; it asserts one’s personal faith and its morality and projects them in the world.72 Sachedina’s Islamic religious pluralism, led by his two concepts of “functional secularity” and “general religion”, though not profoundly theorized, does underline applied ethics that faith can still teach in modern contexts, and does not underline only the private morality of religion. His centralization of the idea of justice in human societies on this earth underpins this understanding. In a more recent article on the topic, he says “It is in no sense a thoroughgoing moral reduction of religion to morality, as Immanuel Kant would have put it in the context of Christianity.”73 Taking into account the changes Muslim majority societies are undergoing, he adds “These historical and scripture-based precedents should lead the contemporary Muslim societies to institutionalize pluralism without having to succumb to secularize Islam and sever its connection to the transcendence founded upon Godcentered pluralism.”74 Sachedina says that especially on individual freedom and human moral agency it is the classical Mu‘tazilite interpretation that prevails among modern exegetes of the Qur’an; among Sunni exegetes he refers to Muhammad Abduh, Rashid Rida and Sayyid Qutb; among the Shi‘a, he refers to Allama Tabataba’i.75 In a clear Mu‘tazilite note, he says: In fact, religious pluralism is seen by the Qur’an as fulfilling some divine purpose for humanity. That purpose is the creation of an ethical public order, for attaining of which, before even sending the prophets and the revelation, God has created an innate disposition in human beings capable of distinguishing the good from evil. This divine gift requires

 Ibid, 12.  Ibid, 14. 72  Ibid, 7. 73  Sachedina, “Advancing Religious Pluralism in Islam,” 225; he also says “These historical and scripture-based precedents should lead the contemporary Muslim societies to institutionalize pluralism without having to succumb to secularize Islam and severe its connection to the transcendence founded upon God-centered pluralism.” 224. 74  Sachedina, “Advancing Religious Pluralism in Islam,” 224. 75  Sachedina, Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism, 19–21; Sachedina, “Advancing Religious Pluralism in Islam,” 230. 70 71

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

21

humanity, regardless of its affiliation to particular religious paths, to live with each other and work towards justice and peace in the world.76

With this note I move to giving another Islamic view of religious pluralism as promulgated by a contemporary Neo-Mu‘tazilite, i.e. the Iranian philosopher-­theologian Abdolkarim Soroush (b. 1945). Through his historicist approach to the study of religion, Soroush contends that there is no pure religion, and no pure Islam. His theory The Contraction and Expansion of Religious Knowledge, developed between 1987 and 1989, is an epistemological and hermeneutical theory about understanding religion as a form of human knowledge that is vulnerable to fallibility and evolution, since it is based on human interaction and human learning. In The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience,77 developed between 1997 and 1999, he deals with the historicity of the Prophet’s revelatory experience and his impact on revelation. These two theories would impact the outcome of his overall project: the world is a priori pluralist, and he terms this “negative pluralism,” and a posteriori also pluralist, and he terms this “positive pluralism.” With these concepts (to be returned to below), Soroush argues that human beings do not have to expect too much from religion, and he terms this “minimalist religiosity” against the “maximalist” one, for history and believers themselves add to religion “accidentals,” which cover the “essentials”, which only few believers can reach, differently. To uncover the “essentials” of religion then requires uncovering the beginnings of a revelation and its later developments in light of the Prophetic experiences, historical exigencies, and human interaction. The outcome of the study of the history of religion is knowledge about this religion and not religion per se. At the heart of this philosophy of religion lie both the rational heritage of the classical Mu‘tazila, which he says he belongs to and revives innovatively, and a personal mystic-religious experience.78 Using the terms of the British philosopher Isaiah Berlin (d. 1997)79 but filling them in with images from the mystical work of Rūmī and his philosophy of religion, Soroush, too, speaks of two kinds of pluralism: positive and negative. Positive pluralism is the norm in the world as divinely willed; the world is a priori pluralist; it admits various interpretations of the world and truth, and acknowledges that none of them can be swallowed up or dissolved, since each of them has “incommensurable

 Sachedina, “Advancing Religious Pluralism in Islam,” 231.  Abdolkarim Soroush, The Expansion of Prophetic Experience: Essays on Historicity, Contingency and Plurality in Religion, trans., Nilou Mobasser, ed., Forough Jahanbakhsh (Leiden: Brill, 2009). 78  Mohammed Hashas, “Abdolkarim Soroush: A Neo-Mu’tazilite that Buries Classical Islamic Political Theology,” Studia Islamica 109 (2014), 161. 79  See “Two Concepts of Liberty” (first delivered as a lecture in Oxford in 1958), in Isaiah Berlin, Four Essays on Liberty (London: Oxford University Press, 1969). Simply, negative liberty means the absence of obstacles, constrains or interference from someone or some people in the practice of choice or action, while positive liberty means the presence of something or someone in the practice of such a choice or action; the first is freedom from while the second is freedom to. Negative liberty is impacted by external factors, while positive liberty is impacted by internal factors, psychological/internal ones. 76 77

22

M. Hashas

particularities.”80 Different prophecies cannot be compared in “kind” but in “degree,” since they all preach a version of truth, from the same God. As to negative pluralism, it rests on something “lacking”; it is “pragmatic/ instrumental”; it ­nurtures skepticism, and lacks something, like certitude or truth, because it is the result of rational theology; however, it is unavoidable and divinely willed too. What matters in this view of pluralism is not that there should be one destination to truth but that one has to seek it with sincerity and felicity, irrespective of one’s initial tradition and faith; Soroush uses the attribute of God “The Guide/al-hādī” as the axis around which this quest is open to all traditions and cannot be exclusive, since God as Guide cannot exclude His own people from His own mercy and compassion. Another aspect of negative pluralism is the relation of each tradition to the idea of truth and falseness. Because each tradition has historically accumulated what he calls “accidentals” (through language, interpretations, customs, politics, etc.) no tradition can claim to be “pure” and thus has easy access to the true “essentials” of religion.81 This fact makes the space to truth and falsehood not far, and also not near, for any tradition. That is why he speaks of “minimal” and “maximal” religiosity in religious experiences; individuals’ closeness to or distance from the spirit of their faith remains a factor that can lead to inter-religious recognition and understanding, since going through these experiences can make believers understand believers of other faiths better, and consequently reach the idea of negative pluralism. This leads to the other aspect of this type of pluralism, i.e., that one’s truth is compatible with the truth of the other(s); one’s truth should not deny the other’s truth; on the contrary, it should endorse it as one’s own. Ultimately, this can lead to “epistemological pluralism”82 and “rational modesty.”83 This means that no one considers his beliefs as the chosen ones, or the only true ones any longer. “No truth is incompatible and ill-assorted with any other. All truths reside under the same roof and are stars in the same constellation.”84  Soroush, The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, 2009, 137.  Soroush outlines fourteen points that can help in deconstructing historical Islam to reach its essence, goal and spirit: Religion does not have an Aristotelian essence or nature; it is the Prophet who has certain goals. These goals are religion’s essentials. In order to express and attain these intentions and to have them understood, the Prophet seeks the assistance of (1) a particular language, (2) particular concepts and (3) particular methods (fiqh and ethics). All of this occurs in a particular (4) time and (5) place (geographical and cultural) and for (6) a particular people with particular physical and mental capacities. The purveyor of religion is faced with specific (7) reactions and (8) questions and, in response to them, gives (9) specific answers. The flow of religion over the course of time in turn gives rise to events, moving some people to (10) acquiesce and others to (11) repudiate. Believers and unbelievers fall into (12) particular relationships with each other and religion; they fight battles or create civilizations, (13) engage in comprehending and expanding religious ideas and experiences or (14) wrecking and undermining them. (Ibid, 90–91) 82  Ibid, 152; 160–161. In the same line of thought, he says “We have no other option but to accept plurality.” He also uses the term “rational modesty” and “critical rationalism” to express the same point (Ibid, 156–157). 83  Ibid, 156. 84  Ibid, 146. 80 81

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

23

However, the defense of this aspect of negative pluralism (i.e. plural truths) does not solve the issue of “value pluralism” or “cultural pluralism.” Religious pluralism has to overcome the problem of cultural incommensurability; cultural and value pluralisms are a step towards religious pluralism; it is about how to negotiate cultural “incommensurabilities”; we know that each cultural and religious tradition has its own order of values; for example, it is impossible to defend social justice or equality and equally defend at the same time, and with the same tenor, the value of liberty; there are “things”, often immaterial, that free individuals would not like to share equally with their co-citizens for a just society, for instance, for various reasons, like historical legitimacy, race or gender relations, or social status.85 Or, in certain situations, some value systems would prefer boldness and chivalry over wisdom and compassion, while the reverse is possible for another individual from the same value system or for another individual of a different value system. These are the daily issues that real pluralism faces and should not be eclipsed from our attention as we speak of religious pluralism; cultural pluralism is fundamental; it is through it that religious pluralism is filtered; religious interpretation happens in culture, in particular time and space. It is here that political pluralism comes in to overcome the various exclusivisms in society; still, political pluralism can also fall into exclusivism, if led by one ideological or moral perspective. To quote Soroush again speaking of a pluralist society, he says that, politically, no society has to be governed by one ideological/ pragmatic/ instrumental interpretation; a “pluralistic society” is free and open as nature, unlike the “ideological society” that narrows down the premises of the truth(s) and ideologies it embraces.86 Mohsen Kadivar has replied and critiqued the version of pluralism of Soroush in a rich exchange between the two.87 The major note to take from this immersion in religious pluralism is Soroush’s idea on ethics and values; he believes they mean what human beings use them for; they are objective and have nothing intrinsic about them. He is very rationalist here, neo-Mu‘tazilite, as he defines himself.88 Various liberal and modernist thinkers and philosophers in the Arab context adopt a similar rationalist attitude, like the Moroccan philosopher Abdallah Laroui (b. 1933) who presents the moral ethos of Islam as ahistorical compared to the historical Islam and the orthodox religion it has built; for him ethics precede religion, while still recognizing the Qur’an as a fundamental general source for such ethics; the particulars are for reason to deal with; human reason is able to distinguish good from evil, and right from wrong, as

 See for instance the case of apartheid, race, and religion in the South African context as analyzed theologically by Farid Esack, Qur’an, Liberation, Pluralism (Oxford: Oneworld, 1997). 86  Soroush, The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, 152. 87  Soroush and Kadivar, “Religious Pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush Debate,” April ninth, 2008, https:// drsoroush.com/en/religious-pluralism-kadivar-soroush-debate/ 88  Soroush says, “[L]ike the Mu‘tazilites, I believe that human reason discovers them [i.e. moral values] as evident and can, therefore, establish a revelation-independent reason.” Soroush, I am a Neo-Muʿtazilite, interviewed by Matin Ghaffarian, July 2008, http://www.drsoroush.com/English/ Interviews/E-INT-Neo-Mutazilite_July2008.html; Mohammed Hashas “Abdolkarim Soroush: A Neo-Mu’tazilite that Buries Classical Islamic Political Theology,” Studia Islamica 109 (2014), 161. 85

24

M. Hashas

long as there is good intent and sincerity.89 On a different epistemological ground, however, stand philosophers, like Taha Abderrahmane (b. 1944), who see in religion the ultimate source of ethics, and the ultimate guide for a pluralism that is not relativist and utilitarian but that is genuinely responsive to the divine will of diversity.90 Intellectual diversity in the Arab domain reflects the plural approaches to the issue of reform and the complexities such a pluralism brings about.91

1.6  Book Content This book is divided into two complementary parts: the first part examines the question of pluralism in the founding sources of Islam, and the formative period afterwards; while it presents the fields of pluralism as embraced by these sources, it also presents a skeptical view that shows that interpreting these sources can lead to possible non-pluralist or ambiguous attitudes; besides the theological part, the politics part also examines some important concepts of classical Islamic political thought and how they have been realized. This first part also includes a chapter on how some notable Christian scholarship on the Qur’an and Islam plays a negative role in integration in pluralist modern societies. As to part two, it focalises the modern period, and contains chapters that examine modern Islamic thought and how it treats the question of pluralism; it also contains some chapters as case studies that show both successful and failing examples of pluralism in Islamic contexts. The two chapters are complementary, and the volume at large does not aim at being comprehensive of all the themes, sub-themes, and geographies of the vast “Muslim world.” The aim behind this collective volume is mostly to contribute to religious studies scholarship and its treatment of the concept of pluralism. And seeing how religion and politics intertwine in this historical moment of Muslim majority societies and Islamic thought, this volume then is also a contribution to Islamic political thought, political theology, and political philosophy; some major theological concepts examined here, like al-tawḥīd (Divine Unity), are invoked when debating pluralism, inclusivism 89  See Abdallah Laroui, Al-Sunna wa al-iṣlāḥ [Tradition and Reform, 2008] - Dīn al-fiṭra: J.J.  Rousseau [Natural Religion: J.J.  Rousseau] [Collected Works] (Casablanca: al-markaz aththaqafi li al-kitab, 2018) 202. Laroui says in this book that marks a different stage in his philosophical project of modernization: “Al-Qur’ān huwwa al-āya, huwwa al- ḥayāt, huwwa an-nūr. Man lam yuḥyihi al-Qur’ān fa huwa ilā al-abadi mayyit [The Qur’an is the sign, the life, the light. He whom the Qur’an does not move is forever dead].” Laroui, Al-Sunna wa al-iṣlāḥ, 115. 90  Taha Abderrahmane, “Ta‘addudiyat al-qiyam: mā madāhā wa mā ḥudūduhā?” [The Pluralism of Values: Scope and Limits] Inaugural Speech, n.3 (Marrakech: Qadi Ayyad University, Faculty of Letters, 2001); Rūḥ al-dīn [The Spirit of Religion: From the Narrowness of Secularism to the Openness of Trusteeship] (Beirut and Casablanca: al-markaz al-ṯaqāfī al-ʻarabī, 2012). 91  See, for instance: Elizabeth S. Kassab, Contemporary Arab Thought: Cultural Critique in Comparative Perspective (New York: Columbia University Press, 2010), Enlightenment on the Eve of the Revolution: The Egyptian and Syrian Debates (New York: Columbia University Press, 2019); Georges Corm, Arab Political Thought: Past and Present (London: Hurst Publishers, 2020).

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

25

and exclusivism in modern and contemporary Islamic thought and how they may find their way in society and politics. The issue of pluralism may not have made much rumour among scholars if it were not for its impact on and in politics. Relevant theology is always political; if it is not, then it is irrelevant, not mundane, and not secular in the literal sense of the word, i.e. not this-worldly. It is on such grounds that theology and philosophy meet, and on such grounds that the last chapter of this volume brings classical Islamic philosophy, or philosophy produced in Islamic contexts, in communication with modern “Euro-American” political philosophy. Asma Afsaruddin opens the first part with her chapter “Valorizing religious dialogue and pluralism within the Islamic tradition.” She selects three ethical concepts from the Qur’an that strongly advocate not only tolerance, sometimes understood now as a passive acceptane of difference, but tolerance in the sense of actively engaging to know the other and build human relations with them. These concepts are: a) knowledge of one another (Ar. al-ta‘āruf), b) the commonality of human beings based on righteousness and virtuous acts (Ar. al-birr) rather than on religious labels and denominations; and c) the reconciliation of hearts (Ar. ta’līf al-qulūb), which she considers a pillar of Islamic peacebuilding mechanisms. Afsaruddin also gives historical examples of Muslims’ adherence to these ethical values, starting from the Prophetic Pact of Medina, or Medina Charter, and passing by the accommodation and protection of non-Muslims, be they People of the Book in the broad Middle East or Hindus and Zoroastrian in the Persian and Indian worlds; she also refers to the Andalusian co-existence, and focuses on what she refers to as “Judeo-­ Arabic or Judeo-Islamic culture.” These enlightened periods of Islamic intellectual and political life can teach inclusiveness and pluralism against the resurgent extremism in some current Muslim majority contexts. On a different note, Oliver Leaman raises important questions in his chapter “The Qur’an and pluralism: a skeptical view.” Leaman problematizes man’s ability to reach divine prescriptions’ intentions either through taqlīd of the tradition or through ijtihad in one of its current “liberal” forms known as maqāṣid al-sharīʿa framework. For instance, he discusses the latitude of possible interpretations of concepts like Muslim, submission, idolatry (shirk), complementarity or equality, justice, ethics, and law. Leaman’s main concern is thinking through the “intentions” of the text, and how far can human progressive values be projected on a text that belongs to different times and circumstances; he wonders if such projections are plausible to do. He warns that being selective in reading the Qur’an “gives theology such a bad name intellectually.” At the end he says that the tradition should be looked at “for guidance” for a balanced approach, in the light of our human experiences, though he acknowledges the incoherences or “awkward aspects” of both – i.e. of human experiences and the tradition. Moving to the intellectual tradition that followed the formative period of the sacred text, Mariam al-Attar contributes Chap. 4, “Theories of ethics in Islamic thought and the question of moral pluralism,” as if it were a reply to the previous chapter of Leaman. Here, al-Attar, however, takes a more affirmative tone about the past existence and still future possible existence of an Islamic rationalist and modern moral theory. After conceptual introductions on the meanings of exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism, she clarifies the differences between religious pluralism,

26

M. Hashas

moral pluralism, and moral relativism; al-Attar then presents some moral principles of classical Islamic scholarship from the Mu‘tazilite scholarship and its theological opponent the Ash‘arite one. She sees in the Mu‘tazilite universal moral theory as well as the Ash‘arite legal theory of maqāṣid al-sharīʿa, if updated as the scholarship she refers to shows, the way to go for a pluralist moral theory in Islamic (Sunni) contexts. Mohsen Kadivar brings insights into the discussion from Shi‘a intellectual history in Chap.  5, “Genealogies of pluralism in Islamic thought: Shi‘a perspective.” This chapter covers an important hermeneutical difference between majority Sunni and Shi‘a scholarship regarding the issue of abrogation (al-naskh) in the Qur’an, especially when this is applied to the so-called Sword Verse (Qur’an 9:5). Some important Sunni classical scholars are cited in favour of abrogation, since the Sword Verse is a later-comer verse, i.e. revealed later, thus it abrogates the freedom of belief verses (like verse 2:256) revealed earlier, and thus imposes compulsion in religion, while all Shi‘a major scholars do not hold abrogation thesis. For Kadivar, accordingly, there is more space for freedom of belief, tolerance, and pluralism in the absence of abrogation thesis. He then refers to the political teachings of Imām ‘Ali Ibn Abī Ṭālib and their brotherly and universal human spirit, and ends with references to the place of reason (‘aql) in Shi‘a kalam and fiqh. These three major types of arguments do embrace the theology of pluralism in the Shi‘a tradition. Abdelwahab el-Affendi, in Chap. 6 “Taḥkīm [arbitration] as an Islamic democratic precedent: Towards a new look at one of Islam’s formative episodes,” takes us back to the details of the first civil war between the allies of the fourth Caliph ‘Ali and his rival Mu‘āwiya, in early Islamic political life after the death of the Prophet Muhammad. It is not the lack of literature on this episode that el-Affendi wishes to cover; rather, his aim, at this current historical moment of political turmoil in some Arab-Islamic majority societies, is to propose, as he says, “a reconsideration of the episode as a brief bright moment in Islamic history, which could offer guidance even today.” The minute details of this episode are considered a genuine democratic principle of negotiating the ways to sovereignty and governance. Besides affirmation of the Qur’an and Sunna as the basic guides for all, it is interpreting these guides by means of public debate, consultation, and envoy of ambassadors and letters over and over again between the two rivals that reflect a disposition to listen to rational consensus as the principle for legitimate governance. While historical common narratives show this as a failure of Muslim unity, el-Affendi says that it is a failure as a consequence, and not as a principle; as a principle, it stands as a bright episode in Islamic political history; he proposes that such a democratic spirit of consultation could be built on now to meet peoples’ aspirations. Otherwise said, arbitration here is the most vital principle to maintain a plural polity even when the competing allies differ ideologically. Still on political thought, Massimo Campanini, in Chap. 7 “Universalism and cosmopolitanism in Islam: the idea of the caliphate,” reads classical concepts in their context, and in the light of two major paradigms: the universalism of Islam as a faith, with reference to the notion of fiṭra, the natural disposition to belief, and to cosmopolitanism as the political face of diversity and pluralism, with reference to the notions of umma, and dhimmitude. He gives historical evidence of this pluralsim, and how it has changed over the centuries, and shrunk

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

27

with the modern notions of the state and nationalism, and the rise of salafi political Islam that dreams of a utopic Caliphate without aggiornamento. Campanini brings to the discussion classical and modern figures of Islamic historiography and theological change, and ends the chapter with the idea that Islamic intellectual and theological history is secular, and that it is up to civil society now to enforce change while still clinging to the spirit of the tradition; he shows a great faith in “liberation theology”; “it is in civil society that traditional meanings of universalism and cosmopolitanism can flourish again for functional political thought and praxis.” Last in the first part of this volume is Chap. 8 of Shabbir Akhtar, “Reading the rival’s scripture in the open society: Western Christians and the Qur’an.” Akhtar takes us to another field of scholarship, which is the study of Islam from a Christian perspective. Akhtar’s chapter outlines a total of nine intertwining methods among Christian faith-based scholars and how they read the Qur’an, the figure of the Prophet Muhammad, and Islam’s general history. He gives these methods different names, and he considers them condescending, rejectionist, externalist, skeptic, paternalist and biased methods, even when they pretend to be neutral or scholarly oriented. He gives examples of some theological figures in support of such methods, and then provides his own reply and critique of each of them. Akhtar says that it is unworthy of modern plural Western Christian societies to keep nurturing such prejudices about a world religion and its Prophet that is “peace-loving,” in his words. Akhtar’s chapter is highly relevant to the volume because it looks at pluralism from a Christian-Muslim relations perspective, since the two belief communities are the most universalist in claims, and if their relations are not natural and peaceful, their antagonisms would impact the global community, justice and world peace. Akhtar calls for “intellectual honesty” instead of “intellectual racism” in scholarship, and in the closure he says that Christians and Muslims can be friends if the Christian side revise their biased reading of the Islamic founding sources and figure. As to part two of the volume, dedicated to pluralism in modern Islamic thought and politics, it starts with a chapter by Pegah Zohouri entitled “Pluralism in contemporary Islamic thought: the case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd and Abdolkarim Soroush.” After a consideration of the fragmentation of authority in modern Islam, Zohouri examines how each of the studied prominent thinkers, who grew up in Muslim majority societies before moving to the “West” for various reasons, respond to the issue of internal and external religious pluralism from his scholarly background. She argues that the three figures hermeneutically challenge the monopoly of interpreting the sacred sources and truth by one religious authority or one religious denomination. While Arkoun adopts a comparative historical and socio-anthropological analysis, Abu Zayd follows contextual and linguistic analysis of Qur’anic verses to foster an inclusive understanding of different religions, and Soroush follows a philosophical explanation of such diversity. According to Zohouri, Soroush and Arkoun “create an extra-religious epistemological framework” to approach religious diversity. And while Abu Zayd and Soroush focalize the study of Islam and how they themselves interpret it, while still acknowledging the non-­ monopoly of their interpretation of the religious truth, Arkoun moves to a more comparative religious approach without aiming at creating one or his own

28

M. Hashas

interpretation of the religious tradition(s). Overall, the three “testify to the plurality of voices within Islam.” If this chapter deals with Arab and Iranian thinkers who moved to the “West”, where there is an important Muslim minority, the next chapter, nine, deals with another context of the “Muslim world”, i.e. Turkey. In “Divine unity and human plurality in Turkish Muslim thought” Taraneh R. Wilkinson examines the pillar concept of tawḥīd [Divine Unity] and how it is used in debating religious pluralim, global diversity, and salvation among Turkish theologians and philosophers of religion. First, Wilkinson refers to examples of critical views on the meaning of pluralism, and their propagation in the age of globalization at the expense of local cultures and customs, as expressed by Fatma Barbarosoğlu, or the dismissive views of pluralism by Mevlut Özler. Afterwards, she refers to Turkish earlier theological openings to religious dialogue and thus religious pluralism studies, with reference to the work of the influential Said Nursi (1877–1960), and state-funded Turkish “ilahiyat” [“ilāhiyāt”] theology faculties of higher education that use classical and modern approaches to the study of religion. Here Wilkinson refers to the debates of the 1980s and 1980s among prominent theologians like Suleyman Ateş and Talat Koçyiğit. She then refers to how Turkish theologians have deeply engaged with the philosophical works of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr, before referring to other theologial trends that feed their discussions of pluralism from Maturidite classical theology or from deism philosophy to defend religious humanism and dialogue among religions. Among the various theologians invoked, the chapter gives good space to the theology of pluralism of Şaban Ali Düzgün based on the concept of tawḥīd. For Düzgün, tawḥīd is not about unity but most importantly about the plurality of finite reality; it is a guarantor of human freedom, the true source of one’s being, and of human morality; it is the source to reject enforced modern unity, a single history and a single type of human being. This tawḥīd protects plurality though it enchants Divine Unity. Wilkinson, in sum, shows that tawḥīd in the Turkish theological context has two edges; it is used as a facilitator or hinderer of pluralism. In Chap. 11, “Islamic political theology for a global age: Indonesian religious experience in reforming Islamic political thought,” Amin Abdullah takes us to another major Islamic context in Southeast Asia to recount some of the important reform ideas of the prominent theologian Nurcholish Madjid (1939–2005), once a student of the theologian-philosopher Fazlur Rahman (d. 1988) in Chicago University. After a brief review of the history of the multicultural and multireligious archipelago of Indonesia, and the establishment of its five constitutional pillars known as Pancasila in 1945, the year of independence, Abdullah devotes most of the chapter to introducing Madjid’s ideas and influence, which he summarizes in five principles that he says are associated with liberal Islam: (1) no establishment of theocracy in Indonesia; (2) democracy as the right political system; (3) protection of women rights; (4) protection of the rights of non-Muslims as fellow citizen; (5) protection of civil liberties such as freedom of thought, freedom of expression, freedom of association. For Madjid, the five principles of Pancasila are a strong protection against Islamic theocracy: (1) belief in God, (2) humanitarianism, (3) national unity, (4) democracy, and (5) social justice. Abdullah outlines some criticism of this

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

29

secular-liberal and anti-political Islamist reformist project of Madjid launched by some other prominent theologians and intellectuals, like Ahmad Baso and Nur Khalik Ridwan. Among these major criticisms are Madjid’s lack of engagement with the masses at the grassroots level, closeness to the political establishment, and the inability to defend state-supported discrimination against some minorities like the Ahmadis, the Chinese, and the Communists. Abdullah ends the chapter by saying that the ideas of Madjid are still relevant in society since anti-pluralist and extremist sentiments are rising through political Islam. Imtiyaz Yusuf keeps us in the Asian context but with a different theme in Chap. 12, “Islamic theology of religious pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism understanding.” Yusuf seeks to build comparative religious bridges between Islam and Buddhism for the sake of peace, co-existence and pluralism in that part of the world. He brings his knowledge of the fundamental sources of the two religions into communication; he defends the idea that Buddhism is not polytheist as the mainstream Islamic scholarship refers to it, and cites the fig verse in the Qur’an (95: 1–8) as a possible indication of the enlightenment tree of Buddha, as some Muslim theologians refer to it; he also compares the revelation/waḥy of Prophet Muhammad to the enlightenment/Nirvana of Buddha; their internal struggles to overcome pain, and submit to one ultimate reality is similar; Buddha calls it dukkha/ suffering, the Qur’an calls it kabad/ affliction. Through Nirvana Buddha entered the state of bliss, overcoming his suffering and reaching freedom and rebirth, and through waḥy Muhammad entered the state of salām, peace and tranquility; Buddha defeated evil, called Mara, and Muhamamd defeated Satan/Shayṭān. Yusuf calls for making Buddhism’s notion of Majjhima-Patipada, middle way, and Islam’s notion of Waṣaṭiyya and Ummatan Wasaṭan the pillars of pluralist co-existence, to encounter the current rise of Asian Islamophobia, and political Islam’s remaining discrimination against Buddhist minorities. The last two chapters take us back to the theme of politics and political thought, as seen in the first part with the chapters of el-Affendi and Campanini, but this time with additional components: Sufism and political liberalism. In Chap.13, “Sufism and politics”, Clinton Bennett challenges the “common” view that where there is more of Sufism there is more of democracy in Muslim majority societies. He uses the Economist Intelligence Unit’s Democracy Index 2017 for his study. Malaysia and Indonesia are highest best among these societies, allegedly for the active role of Sufis in the promotion of democracy, and by implication plural views and identity belongings in society; and the same applies to Tunisia and Senegal, ranked third and fourth highest best Muslim-majority democracy in the Index, two countries where the Sufis play an important role in society, Senegal in particular. Still, Bennett says that this does not prove an “automatic correlation between Sufism and democracy.” The cases of Turkey and Egypt are contrary examples; despite the active presence of Sufis in society and politics, there has been an important backlash in the democracy ranking, especially for Turkey that demoted in ranking, which it previously led. In Egypt three Sufi parties supported the Arab Spring protests in the country, but a number of their leaders moved to support the military coup d’état of al-Sisi in 2013 against the democratically elected president Morsi (d. 2019), and the head of the

30

M. Hashas

Supreme Council for Sufi Orders announced a re-election support for al-Sisi in 2018. Bennett says that other economic and security factors have to be looked at to understand the success and failure of political Islam, Sufi politics included. Finally, Anthony Booth in Chap. 14, “Rawlsian liberalism and political Islam: friends or foes?”, takes us back to classical Islamic philosophy of al-Fārābī and Ibn Rushd and their conceptions of rational liberty to solve some deeply philosophical issues in “later” John Rawls’ Political Liberalism and his conception of “reasonable pluralism.” Through a conceptual conversation around the scope and limits of freedom of expression and freedom of belief, and the stability or not of reasonable pluralism in political liberalism as theorized by Rawls, Booth argues that the resources to fixing some of the conceptual problems with pluralism in the Rawlsian frame are found in medieval Islamic philosophy. While building his argument Booth also refers to the ideas of Sayyid Qutb, and gives him as an example of modern political Islam and its arguments for freedom of belief, freedom of expression and social justice, as a form of examplifying the possible contradictions and/or limitations of pluralism in modern political Islam. Booth, however, underlines in a note that he is aware of the exclusivist ideas of Qutb and that he cannot be considered an icon of modernist (political) Islam; rather, his example appears to put him in contradiction with classical Islamic medieval political philosophy of especially al-Fārābī. In the conclusion he clarifies his point and says that, yes, while modern political Islam makes friendly company to a first form of liberalism of early Rawls, it is later Rawls and medieval Islamic philosophy that can make true friends when discussing the issue of reasonable pluralism. In sum, again, this volume is intended as a contribution to the history of ideas of the concept of pluralism and how it is interpreted in various Islamic contexts, philosophically, theologically, socio-anthropologically, and politically. It has not been the aim of the volume to cover most Muslim majority societies or Muslim minority communities, nor has the aim been to cover major themes and figures of Islamic thought that have dealt with the concept. Still, this volume should, hopefully, respond to the question of how Islamic fundamental sources approach human diversity, and its political manifestations in different contexts throughout the centuries. As the anthropologist Talal Asad writes, writing about a tradition is never neutral, and even moral neutrality, when posed as the way to go, cannot avoid being politically biased, somehow, “Any representation of tradition is contestable. […] Moral neutrality, here as always, is no guarantee of political innocence.”92 Despite such a difficulty regarding neutrality, one should always try to seek its innocence, its core; pluralism, the theme examined here, is also difficult to grasp; pluralists certainly find it hard to trace its definitions and limits; pluralism requires limits, not for the sake of exclusion but for the sake of enlarging the scope of inclusiveness. There is always a space left uncovered, which has to be constantly recovered.

 Talal Asad, “The Idea of an Anthropology of Islam,” Occasional Paper, Georgetown University Center for Contemporary Arab Studies (1986), 17.

92

1  Introduction: Islam, Muslims, and Religious Pluralism: Concepts, Scope and Limits

31

References Abderrahmane, Taha. 2001. Ta‘addudiyat al-qiyam: mā madāhā wa mā ḥudūduhā? [The Pluralism of Values: Scope and Limits] Inaugural Speech, n. 3, 1–65. Marrakech: Qadi Ayyad University, Faculty of Letters. Abderrahmane, Taha. 2012. Rūḥ al-dīn [The Spirit of Religion: From the Narrowness of Secularism to the Openness of Trusteeship]. Beirut and Casablanca: al-markaz al-ṯaqāfī al-ʻarabī. Ahmed, Akbar S. 1984. Al-Beruni: The First Anthropologist. Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland (RAIN) 60: 9–10. Ahmed, Shahab. 2015. What is Islam? The Importance of Being Islamic. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Al-Ash‘arī, Abū al-Hassan. 1999. Maqālāt al-islāmiyyīn wa ikhtilāf al-muṣallīn [Discourses of the Proponents of Islam and the Differences among the Worshippers], 2 vols., ed. Mohammed Muhy ed-Din Abdelhamid. Seida, Beirut: al-Maktaba al-‘aṣriyya. Al-Baghdādī, ‘Abd al Qāhir. n.d. Al-Farq bayna al-firaq, ed. Mohammed Othman al-Khisht. Cairo: Maktabat Ibn Sina. Al-Faruqi, Isma‘il Raji. 1986. Meta-Religion: Towards A Critical World Theology. The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 3 (1): 13–57. Al-Shahrastānī, Tāj al-Dīn. 1968. Muhammad Al-Milal wa al-niḥal [Sects and Creeds], Abdelaziz Mohammed al-Wakil, 3 vols. Cairo: mu’assasat al-halabi. Anawati, Georges C. 1974. Philosophy, Theology and Mysticism. In The Legacy of Islam, ed. Joseph Schacht with C. E. Bosworth. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Asad, Talal. 1986. The Idea of an Anthropology of Islam. Occasional Paper, 1–18. Georgetown University Center for Contemporary Arab Studies. ———. 2001. Reading a Modern Classic: W. C. Smith’s “The Meaning and End of Religion”. History of Religions 40 (3): 205–222. Aslan, Ednan. 2004. Religious Pluralism in the Christian and Islamic Philosophy: The Thought of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr. London: Routledge. Aydin, Cemil. 2017. The Idea of the Muslim World: A Global Intellectual History. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Bauer, Thomas. 2017. Thaqāfat al-iltibās: naḥwa tārīkhin ākhar li al-islām [The Culture of Ambiguity: Towards another History of Islam]. Trans. Rida Qurb. Beirut: matbū‘āt al-jamal. Berlin, Isaiah. 1969. Four Essays on Liberty. London: Oxford University Press. Corm, Georges. 2020. Arab Political Thought: Past and Present. London: Hurst Publishers. Dallal, Ahmad S. 2018. Islam Without Europe: Traditions of Reform in Eighteenth Century Islamic Thought. Chapel Hill: North Carolina Press. Esack, Farid. 1997. Qur’an, Liberation, Pluralism. Oxford: Oneworld. Ferrara, Alessandro. 2014. The Democratic Horizon: Hyperpluralism and the Renewal of Political Liberalism. New York: Cambridge University Press. Galleotti, Anna Elizabetta. 2002. Toleration as Recognition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hallaq, Wael. 2018. Restating Orientalism: A Critique of Modern Knowledge. New  York: Columbia University Press. ———. 2009. Shari‘a: Theory, Practice, Transformations. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ———. 2013. The Impossible State: Islam, Politics, and Modernity’s Moral Predicament. New York: Columbia University Press. Hashas, Mohammed. 2014. Abdolkarim Soroush: A Neo-Mu'tazilite that Buries Classical Islamic Political Theology. Studia Islamica 109: 147–173. Hick, John. 1985. Problems of Religious Pluralism. New York: St Martin’s Press. Hodgson, Marshall G.S. 1974. The Venture of Islam: Conscience and History in a World Civilization, Vol. 1/3: The Classical Age of Islam. Chicago/London: Chicago University Press.

32

M. Hashas

Ibn, Ḥazm. 1996. Al-Faṣl fī al-milal wa al-ahwā’ wa al-niḥal [The Decisive Word on Sects, Heterodoxies, and Denominations], Vol. 1, 2nd ed. Mohammed Ibrahim Nasr, and Abderrahman Omaira. Beirut: Dar al-Jil. Kassab, Elizabeth S. 2010. Contemporary Arab Thought: Cultural Critique in Comparative Perspective. New York: Columbia University Press. ———. 2019. Enlightenment on the Eve of the Revolution: The Egyptian and Syrian Debates. New York: Columbia University Press. Laroui, Abdallah. 2018. Al-Sunna wa al-iṣlāḥ [Tradition and Reform] - Dīn al-fiṭra: J.J. Rousseau [Natural Religion: J.J.  Rousseau] [Collected Works]. Casablanca: al-markaz a-thaqafi li’l kitab. Latief, Hilman. 2006. Comparative Religion in Medieval Muslim Literature. The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 23 (4): 28–62. Makdisi, Ussama. 2019. The Age of Coexistence: The Ecumenical Frame and the Making of the Modern Arab World. Oakland: University of California Press. Oruc, Firat, ed. 2019. Sites of Pluralism: Community Politics in the Middle East. London: C. Hurst and Co., UK, and Oxford University Press in US. Oumlil, Ali. 1991. Fī sharʻiyat al-ikhtilāf [On the Legitimacy for Difference]. Beirut: dār al-ṭalīʻ a. Race, Alan. 1983. Christians and Religious Pluralism: Patterns in the Christian Theology of Religions. London: SCM Press. Rafiabadi, Hamid Naseem. 2003. Islam, Christians, and the West. In World Religions and Islam: A Critical Survey Part I, ed. Hamid Naseem Rafiabadi, 147–151. New Delhi: Sarup and Sons. Rosenthal, Franz. 1968. A History of Muslim Historiography. 2nd ed. Leiden: Brill. Sachedina, Abdulaziz. 2001. Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism. Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press. ———. 2010. Advancing Religious Pluralism in Islam. Religion Compass 4 (4): 221–233. Said, Edward. 1978. Orientalism. New York: Pantheon Books. Sharpe, Eric J. 1991. Comparative Religion: A History. 2nd ed. LaSalle: Open Court. Smith, Wilfred Cantwell. 1964. The Meaning and End of Religion. New York: The New American Library of World Literature. ———. 1981. On Understanding Islam: Selected Studies. The Hague/New York: Mouton Publishing. Soroush, Abdolkarim, and Mohsen Kadivar. 2008. Religious Pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush Debate. April 9th. https://drsoroush.com/en/religious-­pluralism-­kadivar-­soroush-­debate/. Soroush, Abdolkarim. 2009. The Expansion of Prophetic Experience: Essays on Historicity, Contingency and Plurality in Religion. Trans. Nilou Mobasser, ed. Forough Jahanbakhsh. Leiden: Brill. ———. 2008. I am a Neo-Muʿazilite. Interviewed by Matin Ghaffarian, July 2008. http:// www.drsoroush.com/English/Interviews/E-­INT-­Neo-­Mutazilite_July2008.html. Taylor, Charles. 1994. Multiculturalism: Examining the Politics of Recognition. Ed. And Intr. Amy Gutmann. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Part I

Pluralism in Classical Islamic Thought and Politics

Chapter 2

Valorizing Religious Dialogue and Pluralism Within the Islamic Tradition Asma Afsaruddin

Abstract  This chapter focuses on three Qur’anic concepts from which universal ethical principles may be derived to promote harmonious relationships among diverse peoples and faith communities in full recognition, even in celebration, of our differences. These concepts are: (a) knowledge of one another (Ar. al-ta‘āruf), based on respect for diversity and difference; (b) the commonality of human beings based on righteousness and ethical conduct rather than on religious labels and denominations; and (c) the reconciliation of hearts (Ar. ta’līf al-qulūb), which is a cornerstone of Islamic peacebuilding. These concepts and their bearing on inter-­ faith dialogue and peaceful co-existence are worthy of our reflection first. Keywords  al-ta‘āruf · fiṭra · Judeo-Arabic · Judeo-Islamic culture · Reconciliation of hearts · ta’līf al-qulūb · taqwā · al-Andalus · People of the book

2.1  Introduction Dialogue, particularly inter-faith dialogue, and respect for pluralism have never been as critically important as the present time in the post-September 11 milieu in North America in particular, but also in the world. Some members of certain religious groups have engaged in incendiary remarks about others, prompted by misconceptions and fear of the others’ belief systems and the behavior they supposedly engender. Dispelling strongly entrenched stereotypes about religious communities is, admittedly, not an easy task but it remains essential nevertheless in our current fraught political climate.

A. Afsaruddin (*) Indiana University, Bloomington, IN, USA e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_2

35

36

A. Afsaruddin

In this chapter, I will focus on three Qur’anic concepts from which universal ethical principles may be derived to promote harmonious relationships among diverse peoples and faith communities in full recognition, even in celebration, of our differences. These concepts are: (a) knowledge of one another (Ar. al-ta‘āruf), based on respect for diversity and difference; (b) the commonality of human beings based on righteousness and ethical conduct rather than on religious labels and denominations; and c) the reconciliation of hearts (Ar. ta’līf al-qulūb), which is a cornerstone of Islamic peacebuilding. These concepts and their bearing on inter-­ faith dialogue and peaceful co-existence are worthy of our reflection and I will now proceed to discuss them in greater detail.

2.2  Knowledge of One Another The concept of al-ta‘āruf or “knowledge of one another” derives from Qur’an 49:13, which states: “O humankind! We have created you from a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that you might get to know one another. The noblest of you in God’s sight is the one who is most righteous.” The medieval Muslim exegete Muhammad ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī (d. 923 AD) explains this verse as emphasizing that only on the basis of piety may we distinguish between human beings, not on the basis of lineage and descent. He quotes a hadith or a saying of the Prophet Muhammad in this context in which he relates that all humans were descended from Adam and Eve. “Indeed,” the Prophet asserts, “God will not question you regarding your pedigree and tribal affiliation on the Day of Judgment, for only the most righteous is the noblest before God.”1 Another well-known medieval exegete, Ismā‘īl ibn Kathīr (d. 1353), cites the following hadith in exegesis of this verse, “The Muslims (Ar. al-muslimūn) are brothers. No one among them has any superiority over another, except on the basis of piety/godliness (Ar. taqwā).”2 Here Ibn Kathīr apparently understands the term al-muslimūn in its general confessional sense and thus restricts the notion of the equality of believers as applying to Muslims alone. This is in contrast to the hadith given above cited by the earlier exegete al-Ṭabarī which clearly propounds the equality of all human beings, recognizing distinction among them only on the basis of personal righteousness. But it would also be possible for us to translate al-muslimūn as occurs in the hadith cited by Ibn Kathīr in its basic sense of “those who submit [to God],” thus extending the purview of this hadith to include all believers who are united by their common faith in God and differentiated only on the basis of their piety. This inclusive understanding, after all, is more in accordance

 Al-Ṭabarī, Jāmi’ al-bayān fī tafsīr al-Qur’an (The Compendium of Eloquence in Exegesis of the Qur’an) Vol.11, (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 1997) 399. 2  Ibn Kathīr, Tafsīr al-Qur’an al-‘aẓīm (Exegesis of the Glorious Qur’an) Vol. 4, (Beirut: Dar al-Jil, 1990) 219. 1

2  Valorizing Religious Dialogue and Pluralism Within the Islamic Tradition

37

with the predominantly non-confessional Qur’anic usage of this term, as in Qur’an 3:67; 3:84; 5:44; etc.3 In our contemporary period, the significance of Qur’an 49:13 lies precisely in the fact that it offers us a clear scriptural mandate for embracing the existing diversity among peoples and to respect the pluralism in beliefs that we encounter, something we increasingly perceive the need to do. The verse transparently exhorts the believer to accept differences in national and ethnic origins as divinely ordained and to be concerned only with the larger, common issues of morality and ethics. A related verse, Qur’an 5:48, further underscores this notion. It states, For every one of you We have appointed a law and way of life. And if God had so willed, He could surely have made you all one single community, but (He willed it otherwise) in order to test you by means of what He has given you. So hasten to do good works! To God you all must return; and then He will make you truly understand all that on which you were inclined to differ.

These two verses (49:13 and 5:48) are crucial proof-texts invoked particularly by modernist and liberal Muslims today to indicate divine sanction of religious pluralism. Many classical as well as modern commentators on the Qur’an have taken serious note of these verses and commented on how this affects the relationship of Muslims to practitioners of other faiths.4 Possibly the most significant part of this verse is the statement “For every one of you We have appointed a law and way of life.” Every community – religious or religio-cultural community – is thus regarded as having its own law and its own way of life and capable of attaining spiritual growth in keeping with this law and way of life. According to the Qur’anic view of prophecy, various prophets were sent over time to different communities to give them specific laws and to indicate a way of life to their people in keeping with their genius and in a manner that would ensure their spiritual and societal development. This is further emphasized in the next part of verse 5:48, which states, “And if God had so willed, He could surely have made you all one single community.” It would not be difficult for God, after all, to fashion a single community out of humankind. But the Qur’anic view is that pluralism is a divinely mandated feature which adds richness and variety to human existence. Each community’s laws or way of life should be such as to ensure growth and the enrichment of life, without causing harm to others. Beyond this proviso, a wide variety of local customs and cultural variations has traditionally been tolerated in many Islamic societies through time. The last part of this Qur’anic verse states that everyone will return to God and it is He who “will make you truly understand all that on which you were accustomed 3  This verse states, “Say: ‘We believe in God, and that which has been sent down to us, and sent down on Abraham and Ishmael, Isaac and Jacob, and the Tribes, and in that which was given to Moses and Jesus, and the Prophets, of their Lord; we make no distinction between any of them, and to Him we surrender (muslimūn).’” For a discussion of inclusivist and exclusivist understandings of this verse and of the term Islam itself, see Abdulaziz Sachedina, The Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 38–40. 4  Sachedina, Islamic Roots, 40; see also the comprehensive survey by Sohail Hashmi, “The Qur’an and Tolerance: An Interpretive Essay on Verse 5:48,” Journal of Human Rights 2 (2003): 81–103.

38

A. Afsaruddin

to differ.” A parallel verse (6:108) drives home this message more forcefully. It states, “Do not revile those [idols] they call upon beside God in case they revile God out of hostility.” Both verses stress that it is not for human beings to pronounce on the rectitude of religious doctrines since that leads to dissension and strife in this world. The Prophet Muhammad himself is clearly warned that it is not among his duties to chastise people for their beliefs contrary to Islam, including idolatry, which represents the polar opposite of cherished Islamic tenets of monotheism and iconoclasm. Denigrating someone’s deeply held religious beliefs is very likely to invite a retaliatory response, as Qur’an 6:108 points out. The initial act of denigration is one of supreme ungraciousness that has no place in Qur’anic ethics, and, increasingly, in global ethics today.5 Humans themselves should only be concerned with the performance of good deeds and refrain from pronouncing on the salvific nature of others’ religious affiliations. This is a powerful Qur’anic principle that is in perfect accord with the spirit of our own pluralist age. Many Muslims in the modern period have begun to re-emphasize Qur’anic principles of human non-judgment and non-interference in matters of faith, hoping to convince the skeptics among their co-religionists of a genuine regard for religious inclusivism within Islam on the basis of these scriptural proof-texts.6 Extremists among Muslims today, however, have resurrected the doctrine of takfīr – the accusation of unbelief  – that was wielded by a minority dissident group in the seventh century known as the Khawarij, which means “those who seceded.” According to this doctrine, these dissidents considered the overwhelming majority of Muslims who disagreed with them on particularly the question of leadership of the community as lapsed Muslims. Such “lapsed Muslims,” as they saw it, could therefore be legitimately fought against until they capitulated – a chilling harbinger of today’s minority extremist views. The verses that I have cited from the Qur’an and their exegeses thus remain of critical importance in our time as humanity engages in a “quest” for genuine understanding between individuals, faith communities, cultures, and nations. As part of this quest, traditions of tolerance within the Islamic heritage that historically have been accommodating of a diversity of perspectives and helped keep extremism at bay for lengthy periods of time clearly need to be foregrounded by Muslims today as they battle the forces of intolerance and illiberalism in their midst. It is noteworthy that Qur’an 49:13 goes beyond simple toleration of our diversity of background; it further advocates that one should pro-actively get to know one another (Ar. li-ta‘ārafū) so as to inspire in us affection for the other and to appreciate the diverse gifts and richness that we bring, in accordance with God’s plan, to one another. Because of the more parochial circumstances of their own time, medieval exegetes tended to gloss the verb ta‘ārafū to mean learning about each other’s tribal and similar affiliational backgrounds in order to establish bonds of kinship and 5  This is worth remembering in the context of the alleged episodes of Qur’an desecration reported in connection with the treatment of Muslim prisoners by American security guards at Guantanamo Bay in 2005. 6  See, for example, Sachedina, Islamic Roots, 94–96.

2  Valorizing Religious Dialogue and Pluralism Within the Islamic Tradition

39

affection. In explanation of ta‘ārafū, the exegete al-Ṭabarī, for example, glosses it as commanding people to get to know one another so that they may discover their bonds of kinship. He warns that knowledge of such kinship is not meant to induce any sense of superiority but rather “to bring you closer to God, for indeed only the most pious among you is the most honorable.”7 Ibn Kathīr, in his exegesis of this term, cites a hadith in which the Prophet states, “Learn about each other’s pedigrees so as to establish your blood-ties, for it is such ties which lead to love among people.”8 In our globalizing world, we can expand the exegetical purview of this verb to extend to not just our blood-relatives but all the co-residents of the global village we are now beginning to regard as our shared home, thus realizing more fully the pluralist potential of this verse. In our vastly expanded contemporary circumstances, Qur’an 49:13 may indeed be understood as goading us into learning about each other as inhabitants of different countries, cultures, and faith communities, so as to discover our ultimate commonalities as human beings. Like knowledge of the ties of blood-kinship, knowledge of one another as fellow humans is also conducive to affection and good-will among diverse peoples. Appropriately, it is this commonality that we proceed to focus upon in the next section.

2.3  The Commonality of Human Beings The commonality of humans based on righteousness and faith in God is a belief that may be regarded as naturally proceeding out of the Qur’anic regard for diversity based on religion, ethnic background, etc., as briefly discussed above. The Qur’an asserts that all righteous believers will receive their reward from God, as in verse 2:62 which states unambiguously, “Those who believe, those who are Jews and Christians and Sabians, whoever believes in God and the Last Day and does right, surely their reward is with their Lord, and there shall no fear come upon them, neither shall they grieve.” Another verse (29:46) counsels Muslims to say to the People of the Book, as Jews and Christians are known, “We believe in the revelation which has come down to us and in that which came down to you; our God and your God is one, and it is to Him that we submit.” According to this Qur’anic vision, believers are to come to the aid of one another, whether they be Christians, Jews, or Muslims, and they are to work with one another in enjoining what is right and preventing what is wrong, a basic moral and ethical principle in Islam. This joint venture is stressed clearly in verse (22:40) which declares, “If God had not restrained some men by means of others, monasteries, churches, synagogues and mosques where God’s name is mentioned frequently would have been destroyed.” The Qur’an’s ecumenical call to action in defense of

 Al-Ṭabarī, Jāmi‘al-bayān, vol. 11, 398.  Ibn Kathīr, Tafsir, vol. 4, 218.

7 8

40

A. Afsaruddin

all houses of worship points the way for voices of faith from different traditions to mingle together in support of a moral and just world order, in which we all equally have a stake. This verse should remind certain Muslims today who practice exclusivism in the name of Islam that our fellowship, according to the Qur’an itself, does not extend only to members of our own faith tradition but to all believers of diverse faith communities. The theme of the oneness of humankind is repeated several times in the Qur’an. We are told that all human beings have been “created of a single soul” (4:1) and that they are all descended from the same parents (49:13). At the same time, the Qur’an also recognizes and accepts the physical diversity of God’s creation. This is not a contradiction; the Islamic world-view has often been described as based on diversity within unity, or “the integration of multiplicity into Unity.”9 Within the global community of human beings who are equal before the Divine Being, linguistic, ethnic, and cultural differences are embraced as part of God’s mercy. These differences are also projected as signs or miracles of God. “And of His signs,” the Qur’an says, “is the creation of the heavens and the earth and the diversity of your tongues and colors. Surely there are signs in this for the learned” (30:22). Diversity in physical appearance, ethnic and cultural traits, etc., is thus to be respected and celebrated as a desired feature of the divine design. In a significant Qur’anic verse (2:117), we are given a definition of a truly righteous person which is revealing of the qualities of such an individual. This verse states, It is not righteousness (or virtue) that you turn your faces towards the East and the West, but righteousness belongs to the one who believes in God, and the Last Day, and the angels and the Book and the prophets, and who gives away wealth out of love for Him to the near of kin and to the orphans, to the needy, the traveler and to those who ask and in order to set slaves free. These are they who keep up prayer and pay the obligatory alms, who keep their promise when they make one, and are patient in distress and affliction and in times of conflict - these are they who fulfil their duty.

This verse supports the basic premise of religious inclusivism by de-emphasizing adherence to a particular creed or belief as a litmus test for righteousness. It, rather, stresses the importance of compassionate behavior, sensitivity to others’ sufferings and needs, and one’s own steadfastness in the face of calamities and afflictions. Only such persons are deemed truly righteous. The Arabic word used in Qur’an 2:117 to refer to righteousness is al-birr and here it is equated with faith. In exegesis of this verse, Ibn Kathīr records a hadith in which the Prophet, when asked to define faith by one of his Companions, replied, “When you perform a good deed, your heart loves it, and when you perform a bad deed, your heart hates it.”10 According to this report, righteousness is predicated on its active manifestation in acts of charity towards others which the believer’s heart recognizes as intrinsically good. To phrase it differently, we may say that the

 Syed Hossein Nasr, The Heart of Islam (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 2002), 6.  Ibn Kathīr, Tafsir, vol. 1, 196.

9

10

2  Valorizing Religious Dialogue and Pluralism Within the Islamic Tradition

41

properly formed conscience of the faithful allows them to recognize what is inherently right or bad and encourages them to enact or practice goodness. This is a non-­ sectarian approach to gauging the moral valence of actions. Of course, like any other faith tradition, Islam has its own truth-claims and requires of its adherents (as do other religions) allegiance to a core set of confessional/creedal principles. Beyond such core beliefs and at the level of deeds, we are able to move into the realm of recognized commonalities among many faith traditions, based on universal, shared notions of human dignity, charity, and justice, for example. Inter-faith dialogue is premised on the discovery of such common ground among different religious groups and the formulation of a shared religious idiom. Throughout time, Muslims of good will have understood these inclusive verses to sanction the coexistence of diverse peoples and nations. One may retrieve valuable examples from the early history of Muslims to document that this Qur’anic ideal was often translated into reality. When the Prophet Muhammad emigrated from Mecca to Medina (two cities in what is Saudi Arabia today), he found himself in a pluralist situation. There was religious as well as tribal diversity in Medina. He not only accepted this diversity but legitimized it by drawing up an agreement with different religious and tribal groups and accorded them specific rights on the basis of this agreement. This agreement is known as the Pact or Constitution of Medina and represented the foundation of a revolutionary new political and religious culture. What is noteworthy in this agreement is that all together  — Muslims of Quraysh from Mecca, Muslims of Medina belonging to various tribes and the Jews of Medina belonging to different tribes — were understood to constitute a unified community (Ar. umma). Although Muslims would later use the term umma to refer only to the Muslim community, it is noteworthy that the Qur’an uses this term not only in reference to the community of Muslims but to the communities of Jews and Christians as well, and specifically to refer to the righteous contingent within distinctive religious communities. Thus righteous Muslims constitute an umma wasaṭan (“a middle community” Qur’an 2:143), while righteous Jews and Christians constitute an umma muqtaṣida (“a balanced community;” 5:66) and umma qā’ima (“an upright community,” Qur’an 3:13). The Constitution’s emphasis on righteousness and upright behavior rather than on religious affiliation as constituting the principal requirements for membership within the first Muslim polity in Medina is thus shaped by this Qur’anic perspective on umma.11 Historians of Islam and other scholars have pointed to the Constitution of Medina as the earliest documentary evidence of the pluralist impulse within Islam.12

 For the full text of the Constitution and an analysis of its main tenets, see Montgomery Watt, Muhammad at Medina (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1956), 221–225; and R.  B. Serjeant, “The Constitution of Medina,” The Islamic Quarterly 8 (1964): 3–16. For the Arabic original of the Constitution, see Ibn Hishām, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya (The Prophet’s Biography) Vol. 1, ed. Suhayl Zakkar (Beirut: Dar al-fikr, 1992), 351 ff. 12  For example, Ali Bulac, “The Medina Document,” in Liberal Islam: A Sourcebook, ed. Charles Kurzman (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998) 169–184; Muqtedar Khan, “The Primacy of 11

42

A. Afsaruddin

After the death of the Prophet, when Islam expanded out of the Arabian Peninsula into Syria, Palestine and Egypt, it encountered the earlier largely Christian populations of these areas. In return for the payment of a poll-tax from which the poor, the elderly, and religious functionaries were generally exempt, these Christian populations were granted protection of life and property, and the right to practice their religion. Popular anecdotes recount how Coptic Christians in Egypt, weary of being persecuted as heretics by the Byzantines, celebrated the arrival of the Muslim Arabs on their shores in the seventh century.13 For at least two centuries after the early Muslim conquests, until roughly the middle of the tenth century, the majority of the population in these regions remained Christian.14 This fact clearly establishes that they were not coerced en masse into accepting the faith of their rulers. This is as it should be; the Qur’an after all categorically declares that there is no compulsion in religion (Qur’an 2:256). Our historical sources point to the active participation of many Christians and Jews in the flourishing intellectual life of the Islamic world from the eighth century on. In the eighth and ninth centuries, Syriac-speaking Christians, funded by their Muslim patrons, translated the classics of the ancient world written in Greek and Old Persian, for example, into first their native tongue and then into Arabic. Their inclusion in the intellectual life of medieval Islam helped preserve the wisdom of the ancient world and allowed for its later transmission to medieval Europe. Individual Christians and Jews sometimes obtained high positions in Muslim administrations throughout the pre-modern period. Two Christian physicians, for example, attended to Hārūn al-Rashīd, the celebrated ruler in Baghdad of Arabian Nights fame; and Saladin during the period of the Crusades had in his employ a Jewish physician, the famous Maimonides or Ibn Maymun, as he was called in Arabic. In medieval Muslim Spain, Jews and Christians were active participants in the cultural and intellectual life that flourished under the Moors.15 The mutually beneficial interactions among Muslims and Jews in particular in Muslim Spain led to the creation of what may be called Judeo-Arabic or Judeo-Islamic culture. In the fourteenth century, Jews forced to flee from the atrocities of the Spanish Reconquista in the fifteenth century found refuge in Muslim Ottoman lands and established thriving, religiously autonomous communities there. Clearly, the Qur’an’s decree of non-compulsion in religion and its injunction to show kindness towards Jews and

Political Philosophy,” in Khaled Abou El Fadl, Islam and the Challenge of Democracy (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004), 66–67. 13  Al-Balādhūrī, Kitāb futūḥ al-buldān (“The Book of the Conquests of the Lands”), trans. Philip Hitti as The Origins of the Islamic State (New York, 1916), 211; and Thomas W.  Arnold, The Preaching of Islam (New York: Charles Schribner’s Sons, 1913), 54. 14  For example, Robert Schick, The Christian Communities of Palestine from Byzantine to Islamic Rule (Princeton: The Darwin Press, 1995), 77–80, 96–97; Michael Morony, Iraq after the Muslim Conquest (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984), 332–83. 15  Maria Rosa Menocal, The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews, and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain (Boston: Little, Brown, 2002).

2  Valorizing Religious Dialogue and Pluralism Within the Islamic Tradition

43

Christians in particular were often taken quite seriously by those who revered it as sacred scripture. Muslim receptivity to people from the Abrahamic faith traditions, who are fellow monotheists and share to a considerable extent a similar scriptural and prophetic tradition, is understandable. It is worthy of note that as Muslims encountered over time those outside the monotheistic Abrahamic tradition, the Qur’anic principle of non-coercion in faith was also generally extended to them. Thus the Zoroastrians of Persia and the Hindus of India, came to be accorded the status of “protected people” by their Muslim rulers, a status traditionally reserved for Jews and Christians.16 This meant that in return for their loyalty to the state and payment of their taxes, they too could continue to practice their religion and their traditional way of life. A disclaimer is appropriate here – by no means am I implying here that this was a halcyon age completely free of discrimination and persecution of religious minorities. Non-Muslims generally did not enjoy the full rights of Muslims in the pre-­ modern period when membership in the community was primarily determined on the basis of faith. But by the standards of the pre-modern age, the elastic concept of the “People of the Book” allowed multiple religious communities to coexist, often peacefully, for stretches of time under various Muslim rulers. The rubric “Islamic civilization” masks the fact that at its zenith, it was in fact quite a hybrid and cosmopolitan civilization, whose members were of different ethnic, religious, and cultural backgrounds. The rise of extremism in most faith communities today has rendered “pluralism” an urgent global shibboleth today. Inclusivist readings of foundational religious texts which promote a pluralist world-view are thus imperative for people of faith who wish to combat intolerance in their midst. A good sense of the history of the reception of these historical texts in variegated circumstances is also crucial. In regard to Muslims, it is essential, as Fazlur Rahman has observed, that they see beyond the historical formulations of their faith and return to the well-springs of the Qur’an for moral and spiritual renewal today. In this manner, Muslims will be able “to distinguish clearly between normative Islam and historical Islam.”17 For those who are doing precisely that have been rewarded by being able to retrieve a Qur’anic world-view that is accepting of diversity and peaceful co-existence, a world-view that was often mirrored in the praxis of particularly the early Muslim community and that is especially relevant to our own times. Putting it in today’s terms, the Qur’anic verses 49:13 and 30:22 in particular may be understood to contain a ringing endorsement of religious, cultural, and ethnic pluralism which is not only tolerated but embraced as being a part of the overall divine plan.

 Cf. Richard Bulliet, The Case for Islamo-Christian Civilization (New York: Columbia University Press, 2004), 18. 17  Fazlur Rahman, Islam and Modernity: Transformation of an Intellectual Tradition (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982), 141. 16

44

A. Afsaruddin

2.4  “Reconciliation of Hearts” 2.4.1  The Concept of Reconciliation Finally, the concept of “reconciliation of hearts” (Ar. ta’līf al-qulūb) has a very important bearing on inter-faith dialogue and co-existence. Qur’an 8:63, for example, states, “And He [i.e. God] has joined (or reconciled) their hearts. If you had spent all that is on Earth, you could not have joined their hearts, but God has united them. Indeed, He is Almighty, All-Wise.” The medieval commentators agree that this verse specifically refers to two fiercely warring tribes in Medina in the pre-­ Islamic period, known as the Aws and the Khazraj, who became reconciled with one another after their submission to God. Their resulting love for one another dissolved their bitter differences based on tribal affiliation. Two more related Qur’anic verses similarly emphasize the transformative power of love for and forgiveness of one’s enemy as a result of true faith and righteousness. Qur’an 41:34 states “Repel evil with what is better than it; then the one between whom and yourself enmity prevails will become like your friend;” and Qur’an 3:134, states “The righteous are those who suppress their anger and forgive people – verily God loves those who do good.” These two verses counsel believers not to give in to the natural impulse to seek revenge for the infliction of some harm upon them. The suppression of one’s possibly justifiable anger and subsequent forgiveness is a far superior course of action because it is selfless and leads to the desired result, that is, to the peaceful resolution of conflicts.

2.4.2  The Praxis of Reconciliation The Qur’anic concept of ta’līf al-qulūb was considered an important ethical principle in early Islamic history and set in motion a praxis of reconciliation vis-à-vis non-Muslims in particular that is worthy of resurrection in the contemporary period. This concept engendered the important socio-legal category of “those whose hearts are to be reconciled” (Ar. mu’allafat al-qulūb), referring to people whose friendship and alliance were to be nurtured and cultivated in a number of ways in the early period. This category of people included new converts to Islam and non-Muslims, Jews, Christians, and even “polytheists” (as they are termed in the literature), whose good will and friendship were deemed as contributing to the well-being of the community. As essential members of the polity, they were entitled to both the obligatory alms (Ar. zakāt) and the voluntary offerings (Ar. ṣadaqa) of Muslims and the revenues of the state.18 In accordance with these scriptural imperatives, the Prophet Muhammad’s administrative policy in Medina had been deliberately inclusive of particularly “the People of the Book” who wished to reside in Muslim lands in peace and good will. His policy of reconciliation towards  See Ibn Hishām, Sīra, 2:929–35; Al-Ṭabarī, Ta’rīkh al-umam wa al-mulūk (History of the Nations and Kings) Vol. 2, (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 1997) 175.

18

2  Valorizing Religious Dialogue and Pluralism Within the Islamic Tradition

45

them reflects the Qur’an’s recognition of righteous Jews and Christians as constituting “an upright community,” as mentioned earlier. The Prophet’s generosity further extended to the former staunch enemies of Islam, especially the nobility of the tribe of Quraysh, who were granted a general amnesty after the fall of Mecca to the Muslims in 630 CE and whose hearts were now to be reconciled to Islam.19 In our fractious times as we combat religious particularism, Muslims would do well to revive the spirit of charity and reconciliation encoded in the concept of ta’līf al-qulūb (reconciliation of hearts) and its implementation in the early Islamic community.

References Al-Balādhūrī. 1916. Kitāb futūḥ al-buldān (The Book of the Conquests of the Lands). Trans. Philip Hitti as The Origins of the Islamic State. New York: AMS Press. Al-Ṭabarī. 1997a. Jāmi’ al-bayān fī tafsīr al-Qur’an (The Compendium of Eloquence in Exegesis of the Qur’an), Vol. 11. Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya. ———. 1997b. Ta’rīkh al-umam wa al-mulūk (History of the Nations and Kings), Vol. 2. Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya. Arnold, Thomas W. 1913. The Preaching of Islam. New York: Charles Schribner’s Sons. Bulac, Ali. 1998. The Medina Document. In Liberal Islam: A Sourcebook, ed. Charles Kurzman, 169–184. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Bulliet, Richard. 2004. The Case for Islamo-Christian Civilization. New  York: Columbia University Press. Hashmi, Sohail. 2003. The Qur’an and Tolerance: An Interpretive Essay on Verse 5:48. Journal of Human Rights 2: 81–103. Ibn Hishām. 1992. al-Sīra al-nabawiyya (The Prophet’s Biography), Vol. 1., ed. Suhayl Zakkar. Beirut: Dar al-fikr. Ibn Kathīr. 1990. Tafsīr al-Qur’an al-‘aẓīm (Exegesis of the Glorious Qur’an), Vol 4. Beirut: Dar al-Jil. Khan, Muqtedar. 2004. The Primacy of Political Philosophy. In Islam and the Challenge of Democracy, ed. Khaled Abou El Fadl, 66–67. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Lings, Martin. 1995. Muhammad: His Life Based on the Earliest Sources. Cambridge: Islamic Texts Society. Menocal, Maria Rosa. 2002. The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews, and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain. Boston: Little, Brown. Morony, Michael. 1984. Iraq after the Muslim Conquest. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Nasr, Syed Hossein. 2002. The Heart of Islam. New York: HarperSanFrancisco. Rahman, Fazlur. 1982. Islam and Modernity: Transformation of an Intellectual Tradition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Sachedina, Abdulaziz. 2001. The Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Schick, Robert. 1995. The Christian Communities of Palestine from Byzantine to Islamic Rule. Princeton: Darwin Press. Serjeant, Robert B. 1964. The Constitution of Medina. The Islamic Quarterly 8: 3–16. Watt, Montgomery. 1956. Muhammad at Medina. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

 See, for example, Martin Lings, Muhammad: His Life Based on the Earliest Sources (Cambridge, Eng.: Islamic Texts Society, 1995) 299.

19

Chapter 3

The Qur’an and Pluralism: A Skeptical View Oliver Leaman

Abstract  The idea that religions should be pluralist is often supported by commentators. It opposes the more rigid suggestion that a particular religion is the only valid route to the truth and salvation. A problem with the latter idea of course is that it makes dialogue meaningless, since the only point to talking to those in other faiths would be to try to convince them of the truth of your own religion. It is not difficult to find indications in many religions that a variety of views on basic issues are acceptable and indeed should be welcomed as progressive. It is argued here, though, that such an approach really does not do justice to the Qur’an. Like many religions, Islam requires obedience to divine authority and is often critical of alternative ways of thinking and behaving. We may regret that this is the case, but religions are often illiberal institutions and should be accurately described as such. Keywords  Qur’anic interpretation · Muslim modernists · fiṭra · ahl al-kitāb · dīn · fasād · shirk · maqāṣid al-sharī‘a · Waṣaṭiyya · Skepticism

3.1  Introduction The much quoted Qur’anic āya 49:13 is often used to suggest that God created different communities,1 and so it is pointless to insist that everyone believe in the same things. The Grand mufti of Egypt, Shawki Allam, used this passage in 2015 to criticize those radical groups that kill others of a different religious background just because they have that background, quoting also 5: 32: “If anyone kills a person it is as if he kills all humanity, and if anyone saves a life it is as if he saves the life of all humanity.” It is also often said that there is a reference in the Qur’an to dīn, religion, and not to religions, as though the Book values all religions. It certainly says positive things about some religious groups like Jews and Christians, and they  Oliver Leaman, The Qur’an: A Philosophical Guide (London: Bloomsbury, 2016), 238–9.

1

O. Leaman (*) University of Kentucky, Lexington, KY, USA © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_3

47

48

O. Leaman

constitute a group of their own, the ahl al-kitāb. On the other hand, there is a suggestion that some groups are better than others, and that the original scriptures may have been corrupted by those in the Abrahamic religions. So the original Jews and Christians might have been alright, but the present members of these groups are sadly diminished in spiritual stature. Shaykh Allam produced this verse about killing as an argument against ISIS and its supporters. These groups are both violent and also intolerant of difference, and there are many such groups in the world today; they have the view that those with different approaches to religion, or no religion at all, are appropriate targets for murder as a result just because of that difference. Yet, the lawyer surely did not mean to suggest that Islam condemns all killing or even praises all saving of life, since there are many other passages which certainly seem to go in a very different direction. Even the verse comparing killing someone with killing everyone allows killing for murder and corruption on earth, fasād, and this famously can come to describe virtually anything. Sometimes litter is called fasād to emphasize its significance, and indeed when ISIS controlled parts of Syria and Iraq they would execute people for even minor infringements under this sort of label. Of course, there is always the problem of which verses abrogate which others, but it is unlikely that Allam is arguing here that this verse abrogates all the verses about conflict in the Qur’an. Surely he also would not think it a bad thing if everyone became a Muslim, in the narrow sense of committing themselves to the specific religion and acknowledging Muhammad as the final prophet. Although the Qur’an refers to diversity as the starting position set by God, it is very unclear if it is supposed to be the final position. Would he take the pluralism verse to abrogate all those verses prioritizing Islam? Certainly there is nothing in the Qur’an suggesting killing people just because they are not Muslims, although there are some rather hostile expressions on occasion about those regarded as having different views. On the other hand, there are many verses that make sharp distinctions between Muslims and others. One problem is that it is often not clear who the unbelievers are supposed to be, whether, as some argue, they include Christians and Jews or otherwise.2 The Qur’an says that idolatry is the sin for which there is no forgiveness (4: 48, 5:72), and shirk can be a broad brush. It can mean bowing down to other gods, but in a wider sense it can also mean respecting ideas and people that a particular group believes goes against Islam. Radical groups tend to find some reason for killing people and try to legitimate that reason in religious terms by finding appropriate and different authoritative sources. They may well be wrong and certainly casuistic in their approach to texts, but refuting them requires more than just referring to the way in which God created different communities in the world. It seems reasonable to believe that the diversity of faith should be seen as a temporary stage of humanity, until everyone comes to accept Islam. After all, Islam is seen as the primordial religion, so in effect when a non-Muslim becomes a Muslim he or she merely returns to the original and natural religion. Hence, some converts do not call themselves converts but reverts; they are returning to the original monotheistic faith. The notion

 Ibid, 62.

2

3  The Qur’an and Pluralism: A Skeptical View

49

of fiṭra, our original disposition, is realized best within the structure of Islam and some conflict is perhaps acceptable if it results in more people achieving such an end. Or so the reasoning would go. After all, we are also told that Islam is the best religion and pursues the good, rejects evil and adheres to God (3: 110). It is not at all clear whether this is taken to be a report on a fact, or an aspiration. It surely cannot mean that the community of people who call themselves Muslims is superior to everyone else, since that is patently false. It could mean that if there came to be a community who genuinely submitted to God, then that community would be impressive. We cannot always be sure of the voice that remarks in the Qur’an adopt, which makes it look like it can mean anything at all. Whatever the verse suggesting that killing one person is like destroying all of humanity means, it surely cannot mean that killing is completely ruled out. It would be very difficult to give the Qur’an a pacifist interpretation, although it has been given a whole range of implausible interpretations. When we look at more sources of authority in Islam like the hadith and the Sīra of the Prophet, and for the Shiʿa the sayings of the imams, we get yet more material advocating killing, in certain circumstances. Surely that is in principle right; there are always circumstances that look like exceptions to the rule and it then looks overly rigid to stick to the rule. There are even plenty of judicial punishments that involve killing, and the blanket assertion that killing someone is wrong has to be qualified. These very general moral assertions are impressive, but once they come up against reality they have to be qualified and this often involves taking account of the consequences.

3.2  The Qur’an and Difference Islam and its various legal schools have detailed rules on how to deal with difference since, like many religions, it has clear ideas on the roles of the different gender and religious groups and how they should interact. Whatever some may say, it has a highly patriarchal flavor, one that specifies very different roles for men and women across a range of activities and outcomes, and for different religious communities. In this it is similar to many iterations of the other Abrahamic religions. The early commentators and lawyers in all these religions were men, and still are largely men, so it is hardly surprising that the religions should have taken this tone. They were also alert to the need to popularize and regulate faith. There are many references in the Qur’an to differences between men and women, between Muslims and others, and also many references to where men and women are regarded as equal, in their capacity to believe at least, and that is of course a very significant capacity. It is difficult to argue that the Qur’an is bristling with egalitarian ideas, although some have valiantly argued in this way. The rest of the tradition and in particular the hadith make it clear that complementarity rather than equality is seen as the appropriate way for men and women to relate to each other. However, this goes against much modern thinking on gender roles and the faith does not seem to accept the same notion of equality as is current. For some people, this is an advantage; they want to

50

O. Leaman

turn away from modernity and all its horrors. For others, difference does not excuse different treatment and rights, and the Qur’an has to be read in this way also. There are a variety of ways of reacting to this potentially disturbing aspect of religion. The individual may reject the religion and adhere to the notion of equality, or vice versa. She may think that there might be something defective about her notion of equality if it does not appear to be validated by God in His Book. The more interesting strategy and the one we shall look at here is to suggest that Islam has all along accepted the modern notion of equality but for one reason or another this has not been sufficiently appreciated until progressive Islam came along. Sometimes this is linked with the idea that the treatment of difference in the Qur’an was progressive for its time and we need to continue with the progressive message in our time by working towards an interpretation that results in the sort of equality that can be recognized now as accurate and acceptable. According to Asma Barlas “all codes, including the Qur’an, can be read in multiple modes, including egalitarian ones.”3 This exegetical principle is not restricted to gender but occurs throughout modern approaches to the Book.4 It can be read in a variety of different ways to be in favor of socialism, pluralism, liberal conceptions of justice, or whatever political aim one sees as valuable. Religions often present their main beliefs in such a general way that they can be made to fit in with a variety of other views, especially religions that have lasted. They have to be fluid enough to compromise with a variety of challenges so that they can survive the buffeting of change. Different people can find a sympathetic response in their doctrines and often these will be entirely different responses.

3.3  The Limits of Acceptable Interpretation The question is, however, not whether the Qur’an can be seen in progressive ways but whether it is plausible to do so. This is a question about scriptural hermeneutics in general, about how far we can interpret texts in line with the principles we hold dear and which seem often not to be there explicitly in those texts, or quite the reverse. When matters are discussed in the Book that seem out of date and old fashioned, they then need to be changed, albeit maintaining the spirit of what God has laid down as the law. Yet does not the Qur’an warn us about this? For example, there is “…Do you then believe in a part of the Book and disbelieve in the other? What then is the reward of such among you as do this but disgrace in the life of this world, and on the day of resurrection they shall be sent back to the most serious penalty, and God is not unaware of what you do” (2: 85). Even more powerfully we are told: “It is not fitting for a believer, whether man or woman, when a matter has been

3  Asma Barlas, “Believing Women” in Islam: Unreading Patriarchal Interpretations of the Qur’an (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2002), 4. 4  Adis Duderija, The Imperatives of Progressive Islam (London and New York: Routledge, 2017).

3  The Qur’an and Pluralism: A Skeptical View

51

decided by God and His messenger to have any option about their decision: if any one disobeys God and His messenger, he is indeed on a clearly wrong path” (33: 36). The idea of following more egalitarian principles seems to come up against “They have taken as lords besides God their rabbis and their monks and the Messiah son of Maryam, when they were told to worship only one God. There is no God except for Him….” (9: 31). The rabbis and monks here can be taken to be like the ideas of gender equality that some think need to be followed in their interpretation of religion. They are part of shirk since they are principles we often accept, but which do not seem to be part of the Qur’an, quite the contrary. And at 4: 48 we are warned that shirk can never be forgiven. Believing in plural deities is completely unacceptable in a religion that is described by some as pluralist. The more immediate issue and perhaps rather more manageable is to work out how to link those general moral principles such as justice, equality, fairness and so on with the specific rules and regulations we find within a religious code, and here within Islam. Advocates for a faith keep on saying that it is based on at least one of these principles, and then produce an argument to show that this is a plausible interpretation of the relevant passages, including those which might seem to be awkward for the main thesis. These general principles are taken to be the maqāṣid al-sharī‘a, the aims and intentions of the law, and so anything which has become legal and seems to stand in the way of those general aims must be wrong. There is probably then a story of how patriarchal society changed the law from the direction it was supposed to go, and made it fit in with its interests but no longer with the aims of the law in general. Clearly, the interpretation and even the identification of law depends heavily on who the lawyers are, and especially the important lawyers. That is how law works, something is said to be legal, it is questioned and a higher court adjudges on this issue. Often an appeal is made to the general principles that are taken to lie at the basis of the law itself, and specific instances of law need to be in line with those general principles. Progressive Islam bases itself on such an approach, and this is a serious error. But how can we tell if the law is in line with the general principles? It may seem obvious, and sometimes it is. The fact that people of good will and equal intellectual standing may disagree suggests that there is often no easy solution to such an issue. It is certainly the case that the Qur’an makes many references to the attitude of mutual respect that men and women should hold each other, to the importance of justice and fairness, to the disreputable nature of traditional beliefs (which may involve poor behavior and discrimination of men towards women), of the significance of kindness and yet there are some verses which point in the direction of privileging men over women. They may all be interpreted in such a way that the inequality is only apparent since, as Barlas says quite rightly, there is no limit to how we can take texts. On the other hand, there are limits to plausibility. It is quite possible, as feminists who are also Muslims say, that those verses that could be taken in a patriarchal direction represent a social system that no longer exists and so are not really relevant to how legislation should be framed for today. The traditions and of course the schools of law and commentary constructed around them and the Qur’an were taken in a particular way, and now that forms the concept of the Sunna, the appropriate

52

O. Leaman

practice of Muslims, but it consists of a considerable variation from the path that Islam could have taken had the local social system been less patriarchal. This is an approach taken in many religions, and it has a lot to be said for it. Those producing the hadith, those assessing them and commenting on them, are almost entirely men, and like the Church Fathers and the authors of the Talmud, probably did not have a high opinion of the capabilities of women, an attitude of course often shared by women themselves at that time. They tended to value hierarchy and strict boundaries, and equality and pluralism does not really fit in with the idea of a ranking of people and their abilities and capacities in this way. The important scholars often were not young, and seem to be grumpy much of the time, hardly surprising given their age, and their judgments fit in with their background.

3.4  Back to the Qur’an Is there any reason not to go back to the Qur’an and put to one side the tradition that has built up around it? We are familiar with this strategy from other religions. They tend to accumulate a lot of additional material of one sort or another as they grow, and a time comes when the religion looks cumbersome and unwieldy, and a desire arises to get back to basics. The problem with creating a new and more progressive tradition is that the original tradition is closer in time and space to the original revelation, and so might be assumed to be better at understanding it. It is not just a matter of understanding the language of the time, although that is a relevant feature, or being close to the main agents of the Qur’an, also far from irrelevant. The hadith are part of the world in which the Qur’an was produced, although of course many of them are taken to be dubious, but even the dubious ones are often in line with the leading teachings of the Qur’an. The hadith tell us how to apply the Qur’an to our practice, and the fact that they often go in a variety of different directions merely means that we have to try to work out which of them gives the most appropriate advice. That does not just mean which hadith are strong as against which hadith are weak, although that is certainly an important consideration. As al-Ghazālī argued when his choice of weak hadith in his Iḥyā’ was criticized, he could have found stronger ones which made the same point, so it hardly mattered. The important task as always is to strike a degree of balance between the hadith when working out how to proceed and as the Qur’an puts it at 39: 18 “find the best meaning.” This could mean go for the meaning that fits in with the conception of justice that you have since obviously the Qur’an would want to fit in with that conception. This is how the Mu‘tazilites took it, and this is also the approach of progressives. They have a conception of how things ought to be and the Qur’an must have the same view, since how could it be in favor of something that is not just and virtuous? A problem with this view though is that it largely separates the Qur’an from ethics, the latter is used as an interpretive tool to investigate the former. Yet, for many Muslims the reverse is the case, it is the Qur’an which instructs us on the nature of our duty. This is certainly a claim we find in the Qur’an time and time again and we need to take it seriously.

3  The Qur’an and Pluralism: A Skeptical View

53

3.5  The Qur’an as a Guide to Morality There are a variety of directions one can take here. It can be argued that without the Qur’an or some similar divinely inspired religious work we have no idea how to behave. It could be argued rather less strongly that we can often work out some or much of what we ought to do in another way, and the Qur’an is there to make our moral knowledge much more complete and effective. There is a continuum here of dependence on guidance from a prophet or messenger, sometimes it looks like that is the only sort of moral advice that could operate, and sometimes as though it is helpful but not always essential. What the Qur’an and hadith tend to suggest is that however one sees the relationship between those sources of moral knowledge and our independent ways of working things out, we do need guidance. That is not a controversial point, but the whole point of Islam is to indicate guidance and invite people to accept it. They do not have to but it is in their interests to do so, and this is because God really knows the route to salvation and wants to help us get onto it. God knows, we do not know, and if we follow His advice, then we do know what to do. This is repeated frequently in the text. We still may not know why, but it is enough for us that He has told us what to do and then we just know that we should do it. The name of the religion, Islam, is important since it is based on the idea of submission, submission to God not because He is more powerful than us, although He is, but because He knows how we should behave and we need to submit to that information if we are to be rational. One of the problems with an alternative approach is that it fails to recognize other voices and opinions. It puts us in charge of interpretation and that is problematic when it is a matter of discussing a religious text. We appear to approach the text with a view already of how it ought to go, since we accept certain principles that we are going to insist on the text following. The principle at stake here is how far we can discern God’s intentions when approaching the text. Often religions ask us to do things for reasons we cannot discern, but since we assume that God knows what they are, we can just follow what we are told to do. This happens a lot in the Qur’an, and at length in the confrontation of Musa and Khidr. It is important in religion to accept the idea that God is in charge and can ask us to do things we do not always understand. This gives us a way of dealing with hadith with which we disapprove; we should not necessarily reject them but accept them as important information that we do not really understand. We cannot see how that sort of approach could fit in with how we see Islam, just as Musa could not see why God was allowing all sorts of bad things to happen when he was traveling with Khidr.5 This represents a difficulty with the progressive view, the difficulty it has with dealing with awkward hadiths and passages of the Qur’an. By “awkward” is meant those passages that do not fit into the progressive narrative or versions of the maqāṣid al-sharī‘a, the latter playing its usual steamrolling part in squashing complexity. We seem to have something of a dichotomy here between a policy of strict taqlīd, just doing what we are  Reference is to Qur’an 18: 60–82; Leaman, The Qur’an: a Philosophical Guide, 2016, 171.

5

54

O. Leaman

told to do by the tradition, imitating those before us, and a naïve approach to knowing how to discern what that tradition actually is, and a policy of anything goes. Surely this is a false choice; these are extremes which are both unattractive. A policy of respecting Waṣaṭiyya or moderation6 would suggest we find somewhere in the middle which represents a reasonable compromise. We should look to tradition for guidance and at the same time combine it with our experiences and ideas. There are always going to be awkward aspects of both and we have to acknowledge them and find a way to deal with them.

3.6  Stuck on Principles We seem to be agreeing with the progressive line that anything goes, that we can interpret a text in any way we wish. A big problem with this is that it collapses the text into a principle, perhaps here an egalitarian principle, and whatever the text says can be ignored or replaced by the principle. Often ethical thinkers do appeal to an absolute idea and everything has to come under it if it is to be morally acceptable, and this does not do justice to the variety of situations in which we find ourselves wondering what to do. It would be convenient to have such a general idea, and this is perhaps how the angels in Islam operate. They are always good, they always know what they should do and they always do it. When God tells them to bow down to humanity, in the form of Adam, they wonder at the soundness of the instruction, since as they point out humanity is a highly imperfect thing. We not only have freedom of choice, which is the conclusion generally drawn from this passage, and this does not just mean we are not constrained in our behavior by force from outside of us. It also means that we can decide how to behave, and an aspect of that is we often do not know how we ought to behave, a reflection of the moral openness of our world. The angels always know and yet God wants them to give priority to those who do not, and this seems to be a celebration of ignorance rather than knowledge, despite His claim that He knows and the angels do not. Perhaps the point is that we, unlike the angels, are capable of having complex ethical lives since those lives reflect the fact that we live in different communities and so are full of contradictions and contrasting commitments and passions. The angels interpret the text exactly as it ought to be interpreted; they never have to struggle with it or wonder what it means. They are in the position of someone who every time gets the right answer to a mathematical problem, as against someone who knows how to solve the problem but sometimes gets it wrong. Paradoxically, it is the latter who has the better grasp of mathematics, since she knows how to get the right answer, although she does not always get it. Someone who just gets it automatically is not doing mathematics; she is an invariable producer of the right answer.

 Qur’an 35: 32; see also Leaman, The Qur’an: A Philosophical Guide, 2016, 213–14.

6

3  The Qur’an and Pluralism: A Skeptical View

55

3.7  The Return of Difference This is something that Iblis hints at when he refuses to bow down,7 pointing out that humans are made of different material from angels and are more imperfect. We are getting back to discussing difference again, a constant theme of the Qur’an. He is right in the sense that all the angels do what God tells them to do except for Iblis, whereas not many human beings do what God tells them do. Angels are much better submitters than we are, but then that is their nature. God has created the world and Islam to fit our nature but has left us with room to find our own way around both the world and the Qur’an. There are no nice neat solutions to the problematic issues we find in the Book or indeed in the world, and so the progressives are wrong in thinking we can just do what we like with the text. It is quite common to think that people who are less skilled at an activity are worthy of our contempt, and this is Iblis’ point. He is going to dedicate himself to misleading human beings and proving that he is right in his low opinion of us. One of the activities that Iblis is engaged in is leading us away from God, since that serves to show that he was right in thinking that we are not really capable of doing what we are told to do by God. We find it difficult to follow God as a rule and this is not just weakness of will, it is often because we do not know what we should do, how we ought to behave. The Qur’an and the traditions often leave it open and the task is to work out how to interpret texts to establish a satisfying synthesis blending our experiences, the tradition and the stories we tell each other. It is worth using this word task, since the idea of a process is important. So is the product at the end of the process, but as the Prophet is supposed to have said, al-dīn al-naṣīḥa, religion is advice. In fact, he repeated it three times. Advice is generally quite tentative, rather than a set of precise instructions. He is right, religion is often quite hesitant in what it tells us and encourages us to work out how to behave and what the religion is actually saying. Often we need guidance, indeed we always need guidance according to the Qur’an, but the problem is knowing where to find it; “O believers, obey God, and obey the Messenger, and those in authority among you” (4:59). The latter phrase ‘ūlī’l-amr’ can be taken to mean ‘the people of knowledge’ or ‘the people of religion and jurisprudence’, or to refer to the Imāms as in the Shi‘i traditions. Those who have knowledge, we are told, ‘“And that those who have been given knowledge may know that it is the truth from your Lord, so that they may believe in it and their hearts may submit humbly to Him. God certainly guides those who believe onto a right path” (22: 54). Obviously, we should depend on them. But how do we know who they are?

 Qur’an 2: 34; Leaman, The Qur’an: A Philosophical Guide, 2016, 54–5.

7

56

O. Leaman

3.8  The Perils of Tradition Perhaps they – those who know the right path – are the traditional leaders of the community. The Qur’an is rather critical of tradition that, after all, in its time often represented what the Book saw as regression from pure monotheism. Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih refers to a story about al-Ḥajjāj b. Yūsuf al-Thaqafī (d. 95/714), the notoriously harsh governor of Iraq at the time of Caliph ʿAbd al-Malik b. Marwān (d. 65–86/685–705). Sulayk b. al-Sulaka complained to al-Ḥajjāj that he had been punished for an offense committed by someone else from his tribe. Al-Ḥajjāj responds by quoting lines from pre-Islamic poetry that support that sort of punishment, to which Sulayk b. al-Sulaka responds with the story of Joseph and his brothers from 12:78–9. The brothers address Joseph thus when Benjamin is accused of theft: “O gracious prince, he has a father, aged and great with years, so take one of us in his place – we see that you are someone who does good.” Joseph replied: “God forbid that we should take any other but him in whose possession we found our property, we would really do the wrong thing”. Here, Joseph refuses to punish anyone other than who was at fault. The idea we can take from this is that tradition here is of no guide to how we should act. When Ḥajjāj hears the verses, he relents and agrees that Sulayk b. al-Sulaka should not have been punished. Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih uses the Qur’anic quote as an example of the significance of individual autonomy and responsibility, and how only the Qur’an is acceptable as the basis of how to behave. Here we see what is wrong with progressivism and the way it is used. Whatever we think of the progressive principles, they are not to be found in the Qur’an. Perhaps the Qur’an would be better with them, but they are not there. The Qur’an suggests that when it comes to knowing how we should act God knows and we often do not, and we are best off following Him. This is often repeated in the Book and we need to take it seriously. Although we are told that God created us in different ways and we live in different communities, it is not obvious that this is a state of affairs expected to persist, or just the starting position from which we should move to more doctrinal unity and agreement. We are also told that God chose Islam as the best religion (5: 3) and so why would He want people to go through their lives with an inferior religion? Although we are often told that one of the maqāṣid is this commitment to diversity, this seems improbable. Does that mean that people should be forced to behave in a certain way and forbidden from doing things that go against (what is taken to be) Islam? Should this apply to all people or just to Muslims, or to no one at all? After all, we are told that there is no compulsion in religion (2: 256), and that makes it look like everyone should just do what they think is right according to their religious principles. Even in secular societies we do not operate like that, though; we do not allow behavior we regard as immoral just because a religion approves of it. On the contrary, particular practices sanctioned by religion are made illegal in many cases, even though no doubt they have sincere supporters from within some faith group. Of course, perhaps Islam is more liberal than that and would allow anyone to do anything that some religious group advocated, but it seems unlikely this is what the

3  The Qur’an and Pluralism: A Skeptical View

57

Qur’an is suggesting. Progressives often quote those passages that appear to celebrate diversity as among the maqāṣid which should be used as the basis of a more liberal interpretation of legal rules, but this really does not fit in at all with the tone of the Qur’an. It is this picking and choosing passages and prioritizing some and downplaying others that gives theology such a bad name intellectually.

3.9  Concluding Remarks: Living Without Principles The maqāṣid are designed to establish the basic values that cannot change but within that framework all kinds of change are possible. That at least is the theory and it has been challenged here. The framework turns out to be far too general and vague to do the work it is designed to accomplish. If we agree that the maqāṣid are there for our welfare, and that what Islam bans is contrary to our welfare, as God tells us in the Qur’an, this still does not tell us how far we can do business with people who ignore that ban. Can we transport them in our cars? Speak to them? Marry them and have them as friends? The various schools of Islamic law answer these questions for us, or rather for those adhering to the various different schools, but they do not pretend to extend to all Muslims, although all Muslims are supposed to respect their findings. The Qur’an suggests that the truth will out and the false will retreat: “Nay, We hurl truth against falsehood, and it knocks out its brain, and behold, falsehood does perish! Ah! woe be to you for the things you ascribe” (21: 18). There is also: “And say: ‘Truth has arrived, and falsehood has perished: for falsehood is bound to perish” (17:81). This optimism about truth and its role in our thinking is worth noting, and the Qur’an does seem to think that people can tell it is true just by reading or hearing it, and that they can continue to use it to make sense of their duties and ultimately of course their lives. There is nothing here about the principles behind it; we are supposed to accept the details of the law as we have them and act on them. Often we just cannot tell what the ultimate reasons for them are; it is after all divine legislation, and we do our best to work out how to behave within the terms of the law and how we understand it. To give a secular example, when I do my taxes in the United States I give the information I have to the preparer and he or she uses their knowledge (and generally a computer) to work out my liabilities or otherwise at the end of each tax year. In the end I sign a document and that says that if anything is wrong I know I am responsible, although I have no idea what is going on in the tax system, a fiendishly complicated system of rules. I suppose I could understand it if I was to spend a lot of time thinking about it, but I prefer not to do this, I leave it for someone to guide me. That is what religion does; it guides us and we often do not really understand why we are told to do what we do, but we do it. We believe the Book is true in the same way that we believe many other things are true, without knowing how they are true. The idea that a variety of views is fine according to the Qur’an is problematic, although it might be that we would like it to suggest this. Whatever the merits of pluralism, and surely they are many, the Qur’an and its Author remain to be convinced.

58

O. Leaman

References Al-Buti, Ramadan, and M. Sa’id. 2001. Dawabit al-maslahah, The rules of welfare. Damascus: Waqf al-Risala. Allam, Shaykh. 2015. Terrorists and Their Quranic Delusions. Wall Street Journal (April 9). Al-Qahtani, M. bin ‘Ali. 2015. Understanding Maqāṣṣid al-Sharīʿah: A Contemporary Perspective. Herndon: International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT). Auda, Jasser. 2008. Maqasid al-Shariah as Philosophy of Islamic Law: A Systems Approach. Herndon: International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT). Barlas, Asma. 2002. Believing Women. In Islam: Unreading Patriarchal Interpretations of the Qur'an. Austin: University of Texas Press. Campanini, Massimo. 2016. Philosophical Perspectives on Modern Qur'anic Exegesis: Key Paradigms and Concepts. Sheffield: Equinox. Duderija, Adis. 2017. The Imperatives of Progressive Islam. London/New York: Routledge. Esposito, John, and Natana Delong-Bas. 2018. Shariah: What Everyone Needs to Know About Isam. New York: Oxford University Press. Fadel, Mohammed. 2008. The True, the Good and the Reasonable: The Theological and Ethical Roots of Public Reason in Islamic Law. Canadian Journal of Law and Jurisprudence 21 (1): 5–69. Gleave, Robin. 2013. Islam and Literalism: Literal Meaning and Interpretation in Islamic Legal Theory. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Khan, L.  Ali, and Hisham Ramadan. 2011. Contemporary Ijtihad: Limits and Controversy. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Leaman, Oliver. 2013. Controversies in Contemporary Islam. London: Routledge. ———. 2016. The Qur’an: A Philosophical Guide. London: Bloomsbury. Shabana, Ayman. 2010. Custom in Islamic Law and Legal Theory: The Development of the Concepts of ‘Urf and’ Adah in the Islamic Legal Tradition. New York: Palgrave.

Chapter 4

Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism Mariam al-Attar

Abstract  This chapter aims at developing a doctrine of moral pluralism based on Islamic intellectual tradition. It draws upon modern concepts to differentiate between religious and moral pluralism on the one side and moral pluralism and ethical relativism on the other side. It shows that two concepts form the foundation of moral pluralism, namely the concept of universality, that includes core moral principles, and the concept of plurality of moral values. The two concepts are identified in the Islamic intellectual tradition, represented by the Mu‘tazilite and Ash‘arite ethical theories, i.e. the theory of rational obligation developed by the Mu‘tazila and the theory of maqāṣid al-sharīʿa or the purposes of law developed by the late Ash‘arites. The two theories combined can provide us with a theory of moral pluralism that is authentic and contemporary. Keywords  Mu‘tazilite · Ash‘arite · Moral pluralism · Ethical theories · Ethical voluntarism · Kalām

4.1  Introduction The aim of this chapter is to engage philosophically with the concept of pluralism in an attempt to establish a theoretical foundation for embracing the other, whose culture, religion or simply way of life is different, a foundation that is both modern, contemporary and authentic or true to the Arab-Islamic intellectual tradition. The philosophical tradition in Islam (the tradition that was largely built upon Greek philosophy) developed a system of practical and applied ethics, which came to be known as akhlāq. However, some of the most important issues in moral philosophy are discussed in the works that are typically classified under ‘religious sciences’, M. al-Attar (*) American University of Sharjah, Sharjah, UAE © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_4

59

60

M. al-Attar

namely fiqh (Islamic law), uṣūl al-fiqh (principles of jurisprudence) and kalām (philosophical or speculative theology). Among the first to draw our attention to this was George F. Hourani, showing that some of the most interesting works that are relevant to ethics, as understood today, are classified as kalām. Hourani distinguished between what he called revelational and philosophical theology. Revelational theology relies on scripture in support of its arguments, whereas the philosophical relies on reason and rational argument.1 In Islamic law, a distinction is also realized between sacred and profane matters, to use Khaled Abou El-Fadl’s terminology. In theory, all Islamic laws are divided into two categories ‘ibādāt (concerning ritual worship) and mu‘āmalāt (concerning interactions between humans) and it is within the latter that “innovations or creative determinations are favoured.2 Therefore, it is to this philosophical and profane category that the doctrines and theories presented in this chapter rightly belong. Adel Daher, a contemporary Arab philosopher, accepts the definition of moral pluralism to be based on “the insight that values do not lend themselves to a metaphysically ordered hierarchy” and one cannot rationally argue for the superiority of a doctrine over others.3 He argues that moral or “value” pluralism as a theory justifies placing limits on political authority and guarantees the protection of basic freedoms.4 In the condition of moral pluralism, people “understand and accept that fellow citizens do not all share one’s values, perspective, or objects of faith.”5 Moral pluralism is a theory that takes into account not only different religions, but also, the differences in moral perspectives and conceptions of the good that exist between individuals and communities who belong to the same religion. In the first part of this chapter, and before attempting to provide a theoretical foundation for moral pluralism, based on Islamic intellectual tradition, I will investigate the meaning of moral pluralism and draw a distinction between moral and religious pluralism on one side, and between moral pluralism and ethical relativism on the other. This will allow me to elucidate the concepts that constitute essential elements of moral pluralism. I will build upon the arguments of contemporary moral philosophers to show that “moral pluralism” necessarily entails the concept of “universality” and “plurality of moral values. Afterwards, I attempt to demonstrate how both the concept of “universality” and “plurality of moral values” form basic components of some classical

1  George F. Hourani, “Divine Justice and Human Reason in Mu’tazilite Ethical Theology,” in Ethics in Islam, ed., Richard G. Hovannisian (California: Undena Publications, 1985), 19. 2  Khaled Abou El Fadl, “What type of law is Islamic Law,” in Routledge Handbook of Islamic Law, eds., Khaled Abou El Fadl, Ahmad Atef Ahmad and Said Fares Hassan (London and New York: Routledge, 2019), 11–39. 3  Adel Daher, “Democracy, Pluralism and Political Islam,” in The Challenge of Pluralism: Paradigms from Muslim Contexts, eds., Abdou Filali-Ansary and Ahmed Sikeena Kamali (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2009), 63. 4  Ibid. 5  Andrew March, Islam and Libersl Citizenship: The Search for an Overlapping Consensus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 70.

4  Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism

61

Arab-Islamic moral theories. In other words, I will show that the “universality” and “plurality of moral values”, which are the basic components or conceptual elements of moral pluralism, as understood in contemporary literature, have a theoretical foundation in the classical Islamic intellectual tradition. I am not arguing here that any of the classical Muslim scholars endorsed moral or religious pluralism. It goes without saying that they lived in a different world and had different concerns. However, that should not prevent us from interpreting their thought in a way that allows for the reconstruction of moral theories that are compatible with contemporary morality and relevant to our moral concerns. More precisely, moral pluralism, as argued in this chapter, can be based on doctrines developed by the late Muʿtazilite scholar ‘Abd al-Jabbār (d. 415 H/1025 CE), whose work represents the culmination of the Muʿtazilite thought, and the late Ashʿarite scholars like al-Juwaynī (d.478/1085) and al-Ghazālī (d. 505/1111), al-Qarāfī (d. 684/1285), al- ‘Izz bin ‘Abd al-Salām (660/1262) and al-Shāṭibī, (d. 790/1388) who articulated maqāṣid al-sharīʿa theory. However, a detailed study of the various moral doctrines and theories produced by these scholars is beyond the aim of this chapter.

4.2  Religious Vs. Moral Pluralism Religious pluralism is a response to the diversity of religious beliefs, practices, and traditions that exist both in the contemporary world and throughout history. There are a number of different ways that philosophers and theologians have grouped various accounts of religious diversity. One of the most commonly adopted strategies is the threefold division first introduced by Alan Race: exclusivist, inclusivist, and pluralist.6 Exclusivist positions maintain that only one set of belief claims or practices can ultimately be true or correct (usually, they are the beliefs of the person holding the exclusivist position, insisting on their own exclusively correct position). The exclusivist position has been most extensively developed by the monotheistic Jewish, Christian and Muslim traditions. The exclusivist response to diversity clearly marks the boundaries and borders separating “us” from “them.” Such a position, as judged by Diana Eck, “has been one of the tools of racism and ethnocentrism.”7 Pluralist positions, in contrast, argue that more than one set of beliefs or practices can be – whether wholly or partially – true or correct simultaneously.8 John Hick,

6  Alan Race, Christians and Religious Pluralism: Patterns in the Christian Theologyof Religions (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1983). 7  Diana L. Eck, “Is Our God Listening? Exclusivism, Inclusivism and Pluralism,” in Islam and Global Dialogue: Religious Pluralism and the Pursuit of Peace, ed., Roger Boase (England-USA: Ashgate, 2005), 21–49. 8  Michael Barnes Norton, Religious Pluralism- Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, n.d. Accessed 12 June 2018.

62

M. al-Attar

the contemporary influential thinker-theologian who promoted religious pluralism, says: Different and incompatible truth-claims are claims about different manifestations of the Real to humanity. As such, they do not contradict one another. That one group conceives and experiences the Real in one way is not incompatible with another group’s conceiving and experiencing the Real in another way, each described in its own theology. There is contradiction only if we assume that there can be only one authentic manifestation of the Real to humanity.9

Inclusivist positions recognize the possibility that more than one religious tradition can contain elements that are true or efficacious, while at the same time holding that only one tradition expresses the ultimate religious truth most completely.10 Alan Race’s tripartite division seems helpful in classifying various responses to religious diversity. Marcia K. Hermansen classifies some contemporary Muslim scholars accordingly. However, in doing so she focuses on the issue of salvation rather than truth. Some contemporary Muslims distinguish the question of the “truth” of other religions from the issue of potential salvation. Those scholars are influenced by Sufism and can draw on classical formulations of some famous sufi scholars.11 Inclusivists, according to the classification based on the issue of salvation, believe that non-Muslims might be rewarded in the hereafter because God is merciful and benevolent. The distinctive position of an inclusivist rests on the view that he/she can only see good in other religions in so far as they are treading the same path as one’s own. That path seems to apply for various beliefs and practices. But no two distinct religions share the same beliefs. For example, Christians believe that Christ was a unique revelation of God, while Muslims belief that the Qur’an is the unique revelation of God. God is the creator of the world according to the Abrahamic religious traditions, while the Buddhists do not believe that there is such thing as creation. Religions contradict each other and contradicting belief claims cannot be all true, unless we accept relativism according to which the truth of a certain belief is relative to a specific religion. But such a view seems problematic and difficult to accept. Indeed, religions see relativism as corrosive of their beliefs. Once those who believe that something is true realize that it is only true for “themselves” a major motive for believing it must be removed. Relativism dismisses the notion of objective truth and there can be no common standard of what could count as true.12 All religions make claim about an objective reality that holds for us all, whether or not we are able or willing to recognize it.13 Thus, if one claim is right, the other must be wrong or, as asserted by exclusivist from various religions, plurality of truths is not only  John Hick, Dialogues in the Philosophy of Religion (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010), 191.  Norton, Religious Pluralism, op. cit. 11  Marcia K. Hermansen, “Classical and Contemporary Islamic Perspectives on Religgious Plurality,” in Islam, Religions and Pluralism in Europe, eds., Ednan Aslan, Ranja Ebrahim, Marcia Hermansen (Springer VS, 2016), 39–56. 12  Roger Trigg, Religious Diversity (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 28–29. 13  Ibid, 41. 9

10

4  Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism

63

theologically but also logically untenable. Nevertheless, some philosophers of religion including the most prominent advocate of religious pluralism, John Hick argues that there is a way out of this dilemma. For him, all religions are true, not in a realistic or literal sense, but in a different way. He says, “as the artists directly perceive the landscape, and then through their own creativity represent it in their different ways, so religious people directly experience the Real but respond to it by creating different concepts, images, or mental pictures of it.”14 John Hick and others seek to respect the diversity of religions without giving up the idea that they all attempt to reveal something of the same reality.15 For Hick, divine reality cannot be literal, as spoken about in the language of a tradition. Hick conceived of religious pluralism as “Copernican revolution” in theology. From a “Ptolemaic” Christian inclusivist position in which other traditions were understood to revolve around the sun of the Christian tradition, their validity measured by their distance from the center, the pluralist makes a radical move when he/ she realizes that it is God or the ultimate reality around which all religious traditions revolve. He says, “We have to realize that the universe of faiths centers upon God, and not upon Christianity or upon any other religion.”16 Yet, to my mind that means that each tradition moves in its own orbit around a center that cannot be understood or specified, since the Real is beyond human capacity to understand. The understanding of divinity and the theology of each tradition, or sub-tradition is different and there is no criteria to evaluate different positions. Thus, Hick’s pluralism seems undistinguishable from relativism. Moreover, his universe has no place for non-­ religious traditions and communities. The Copernican revolution would require a center that we can agree upon, a center around which not only all religious but also non-religious traditions would revolve, a center that is accepted and cherished by all and that all religious traditions claim to value and preserve. What does it look like and what does it include is something that should be the topic of moral philosophy, informed by the insights and understanding of people from different backgrounds and traditions. Indeed, an enormous amount could be achieved for the human race if the great religions were to lend their support to the promotion of ethical demands fundamental to all religions.17 That center consists of core moral values that are universal and accepted by all regardless of their religious traditions. Some Muslim scholars have suggested that the best place to look for a discussion of pluralism is not Hick but John Rawls.18 In this regards, and building upon his study of four Muslim European scholars who all seem to share the belief that “the current historical moment requires a framework that accommodates modern values  Hick, Dialogues in the Philosophy of Religion, 34.  Trigg, Religious Diversity, 44. 16  Eck, “Is Our God Listening? Exclusivism, Inclusivism and Pluralism,” 21–49. 17  John Bowden, “Religious Pluralism and the Heritage of the Enlightment,” in Islam and Global Dialogue: Religious Pluralism and the Pursuit of Peace, ed., Roger Boase (Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2005), 13–21. 18  Muhammad Legenhausen, “A Muslim’s Non-Reductive Religious Pluralism,” in Islam and Global Dialogue, ed., Roger Boase, 51–73. 14 15

64

M. al-Attar

and beliefs,” Mohammed Hashas suggests treating “European Islam” as a “doctrine of the good” that is akin to Rawls’ “reasonable comprehensive doctrine.” It can rationally engage with liberal justifications that aim at forming “overlapping consensus.” This can be achieved by providing a “theory of the good” that aims at protecting cosmic, social and individual wellbeing.19 To my mind, this will take us away from the concept of religious pluralism and closer to the concept of moral pluralism. Wellbeing or (maṣlaḥa) is a concept that would help in grading various principles and moral values that form a larger “overlapping consensus” for humanity, bearing in mind the distinction made in the introduction between revelational and philosophical theology, sacred and profane, ‘ibādāt and mu‘āmalāt and that it is to the latter that innovation and creative thinking applies. Rawls is a political philosopher whose work is mainly concerned with establishing a theory of justice that can be agreed upon by people from different backgrounds and religious traditions. Rawls conceives politics as “a branch of ethics.”20 Yet, the political philosopher whose concept of “moral pluralism” or “value pluralism” has been regarded as his “master idea” since the early 1990s is Isaiah Berlin.21 Value pluralism means that human beings differ fundamentally in their ends, and politics has to make sure that they all have the same resources at their disposal in order to be able to pursue this.22 It is important to mention that Berlin insisted that the most important conflicts of value are humanly universal. Values might easily clash even within the breast of a single individual. But, “from that it does not follow that some must be true and others false.”23 John Kekes explains the plurality of values by giving good examples: We may value love and independence, but the more we love someone, the less we can act independently; we may value justice and friendship, but since the first depends on impartiality, while the second excludes it, our valuing both creates a tension. In case of conflict, monists resolve them by letting the overriding value prevail.24 For a pluralist, the context of such conflict matters and each case should be considered separately. In the court, for example, it is justice that prevails over friendship. Also, the value of our conceptions of a good life or the value of the traditional system of values to which we adhere will be greater than that of either of the two

 Mohammed Hashas, The Idea of European Islam: Religion, Ethics, Politics and Perpetual Modernity (London, New York: Routlege, 2019), 234. 20  Paula Zoido Oses, Between History and Philosophy: Isaiah Berlin on Political Theory and Hermeneutics, PhD Dissertation, London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE), 2016, 180. 21  Joshua Cherniss and Henry Hardy, “Isaiah Berlin,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2018 Edition), Edward N.  Zalta, ed. 22  Oses, Between history and philosophy, 145. 23  Isaiah Berlin, The Proper Study of Mankind: An Anthology of Essays (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1997), 10. 24  John Kekes, The Morality of Pluralism (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), 23.

19

4  Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism

65

values whose conflict we are facing. In order to solve a conflict, we need to take into consideration the point of view of the values we, as disputants, share.25 This takes us again to the concept of “overlapping consensus,” the wellbeing of the world, society and the individual or common perception of justice and common morality. Hans Küng, the famous Swiss theologian, says that without a basic consensus on biding values any community is sooner or later threatened with anarchy and dictatorship.26 Indeed, Küng echoes the understanding of prominent classical Muslim scholars who maintained that all societies agree upon the preservation of certain universal values without which chaos would prevail. Al-Ghazālī asserted that “it is impossible that any society or any legal system which aims at the benefit of creation would not include prohibitions against neglect of and restraint from these five values.”27 These five values were considered to be the purposes of “Islamic law” or the universal values which traditionally included the preservation of (1) life, (2) religion, (3) progeny, (4) property and (5) intellect. In fact, the understanding of these values can be revised and expanded to include justice, human dignity and other values that are also emphasized in the Qur’an. Agreement with regard to the validity of religious-metaphysical doctrines is difficult – if not impossible – to reach. Religious pluralism acknowledges that most religious believers are likely to hold on to the set of beliefs (and engage in the practices) with which they are most familiar, given their historical and cultural backgrounds. It also posits that, given the absence of strong arguments to the contrary, they are justified in doing so.28 The lack of criteria by which to resolve conflicting belief claims is the main reason for upholding religious pluralism. On the contrary, the criteria for resolving moral claims may include individual and social wellbeing, a form of utilitarianism, common morality, or the “no harm principle.” Indeed, all the classical Islamic jurists and theologians agreed on the fact that the ultimate aim of religion is to support human well-being (maṣlaḥa).29 The concept of maṣlaḥa allows for the multiplicity of moral values and lifestyles to flourish, and that is the essence of moral pluralism. It allows for various goods that are sometimes incommensurable and incompatible to live side by side. Examples of the multiple moral values are the kind of values endorsed by al-maqāṣid (purposes of law) which many classical and modern scholars claim the sharī‘a aims to preserve.

 Ibid, 25.  Hans Küng, A Global Ethic for Global Politics and Economics (New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 105. 27  Abu Hamed al-Ghazālī, Al-Mustasfa min ‘Ilm al-Usul, Vol. 1 (Beirut: Dar Sader, 1995). 28  Norton, Religious Pluralism, op. cit. 29  Khaled Abou El Fadl, “What type of law is Islamic Law,” in Routledge Handbook of Islamic Law, eds., Khaled Abou El Fadl, et al., op. cit., 11–39. 25 26

66

M. al-Attar

4.3  Moral Pluralism Morality, as asserted by contemporary scholars, is “the one public system that no rational person can quit. It applies to people simply by virtue of their being rational persons who know what morality prohibits, requires, etc. and can guide their behavior accordingly.”30 In support of moral pluralism, I draw upon the Ethics of Belief (1876), written by the nineteenth century British mathematician and philosopher William Clifford (d. 1879), and the critique provided by Peter Van Inwagen after more than one hundred years of its publication. Clifford famously wrote the following: It is wrong always, everywhere and for everyone to believe anything upon insufficient evidence. If a man, holding a belief which he was taught in childhood or persuaded of afterwards, keeps down and pushes away any doubts which arise about it in his mind, purposely avoids the reading of books and the company of men that call into question or discuss it, and regards as impious those questions which cannot easily be asked without disturbing it – the life of that man is one long sin against mankind.31

Drawing upon the critique of Peter Van Inwagen, which will be explained, I argue that Clifford’s critiques of beliefs not based on sufficient evidence is compatible with the doctrine of moral pluralism, not in the sense that all beliefs not based on decisive evidence should be abandoned, but in the sense that all beliefs, including moral ones, that are not based on sufficient and decisive evidence, are equally valid from an epistemological point of view, and thus should be respected and taken into consideration when evaluating any morally significant situation. Van Inwagen argued that equally intelligent people and well trained philosophers can still disagree on various issues, like free will, even when they are both aware of the same arguments, distinctions and other relevant considerations, “their [people’s] disagreements are matters of interminable debate, and impressive authorities can be found on both sides of many of the interminable debates.”32 Seeing a powerful reason for what the other believes in is essential for embracing a pluralistic view of morality. Of course, this is not the same as embracing the view that there is no right and wrong. Rather, it is the appreciation of the fact that different believers deserve to be respected and supported when there is no decisive or sufficient evidence in favor of one position over another.

 Bernard Gert and Joshua Gert, “The Definition of Morality,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, and Edward N. Zalta, ed., 2017. Accessed 4 December 2018. 31  William K. Clifford, “The Ethics of Belief,” Contemporary Review, 1877, 5. Accessed 05 January 2020, 32  Peter Van Inwagen, “Is it Wrong Everywhere, Always and for Anyone to Believe Anything on Insufficient Evidence?” in Faith, Freedom and Rationality, eds., Jeff Jordan, and Daniel HowardSnyder (Lanham, MA: Rowman and Littlefield Press, 1996), 141. 30

4  Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism

67

4.4  Moral Pluralism Vs. Ethical Relativism Moral pluralism is often confused with ethical relativism. Ethical relativism is based on the assumption that there are no universal moral values, and that right and wrong are subjective. As for moral pluralism, it is based on the assumption that there are universal moral values within different groups and individuals, regardless of the varying emphases on the particular values therein. Seeing powerful reason for what the other believes in is essential for embracing a pluralistic view of morality. This is not the same as embracing the view that there is no right and wrong. But it is the appreciation of the fact that different beliefs can be supported by strong evidence where there is no final word or decisive and sufficient evidence to support one position to the exclusion of another. A good example is provided by Isaiah Berlin, who says: “You believe in always telling the truth, no matter what: I do not, because I believe that it can sometimes be too painful and too destructive. We can discuss each other’s point of view, we can try to reach common ground, but at the end what you pursue may not be reconcilable with the ends to which I find that I have dedicated my life.”33 One of the most common criticisms of Berlin’s pluralism is that it is indistinguishable from relativism.34 One way of defining relativism is that it is a form of subjectivism or moral irrationalism. This is how Berlin defined it in his attempts to refute the charge of relativism brought against his pluralism. For Berlin, the model of a relativist statement is like this: ‘I like my coffee white, you like yours black; that is simply the way it is; there is nothing to choose between us; I don’t understand how you can prefer black coffee, and you cannot understand how I can prefer white; we cannot agree.’ Applied to ethics, this same relativist attitude might say: ‘I like human sacrifice, and you do not; our tastes, and traditions, simply differ.’ Pluralism, on the other hand, as Berlin defines it, holds that communication and understanding of moral views is possible among all people (unless they are so alienated from normal human sentiments and beliefs as to be considered really deranged). Relativism, in Berlin’s definition, would make moral communication impossible while pluralism vindicates the possibility of (and acceptance of pluralism may facilitate) moral communication. Pluralism accepts a basic ‘core’ of human values, and that these and other values adopted alongside them in a particular context fall within a ‘common human horizon’. This ‘horizon’ sets limits on what is morally permissible and desirable, while the ‘core’ of shared or universal values allows us to reach agreement on at least some moral issues.35 Pluralism acknowledges that cultures or human beings are not isolated entities without the possibility of meaningful exchange of ideas. Ethical relativism, on the other hand, rejects the possibility of universal values shared across cultures.  Isaiah Berlin, The Proper Study of Mankind: An Anthology of Essays (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1997), 10. 34  Cherniss and Hardy, “Isaiah Berlin,” op. cit. 35  Ibid. 33

68

M. al-Attar

A type of ethical relativism was developed in the twentieth century by philosophers such as the American Charles L. Stevenson (d. 1979) and the English Richard Marvyn Hare (d. 2002) who held that the primary function of moral language is to express feelings of approval or disapproval toward some action or to influence the attitudes and actions of others.36 Such a view has gained high popularity, to the extent of becoming a kind of orthodoxy in intellectual circles. It has a common feature with Islamic Ash‘arite voluntaristic ethics or “ethical voluntarism” which reduces ethical language to a system of commands or prescriptions, a position closely related to positive theories of law. George Hourani linked prescriptive theories of the use of ethical terms, such as those of Stevenson and Hare, to the revival of Divine Command Theories and the rise of religious fundamentalism in the Anglo–Saxon ethical philosophy. He blames prescriptivism, that leads to ethical relativism, for the rise of religious fundamentalism that is enjoying revival in Christianity, Judaism and Islam.37 Hourani is right. If the ultimate foundation of morality is based on commands or purposes that are deemed sacred and absolute, there will be no place for pluralism. Ethical relativism will be the only option. But since ethical relativism is an indefensible position, various types of exclusivism and faint versions of inclusivism will continue to flourish. Faint and otherworldly because they are based on soteriological consideration that does not link salvation to human deeds and moral choices, but prophetic intercession and divine mercy. This is one of the reasons why I argue for implementing the theory of ‘rational obligation’ and common morality, developed by the Mu‘tazilites, to the theory of Maqāṣid, that took its final shape in the now prevailing Ash‘arite tradition. The Mu‘tazilite theory provides the basis for upholding the concept of universal common values based on reason, while the Ash‘arite theory of Maqāṣid provides the core moral universal values necessary for developing moral pluralism that is immune from the charge of relativism. Elsewhere, I developed arguments that would admit human reason in formulating the maqāṣid and suggested that this requires a different meta-ethical foundation, one that is closer to the Muʿtazilite conception of morality.38

4.5  Pluralism from a Muslim Perspective The Qur’an contains various verses in which human reason is fundamental in the formation and perception of knowledge, the good and the right. For example, it says, “And the soul and Him Who made it perfect, then He inspired it to understand   James Rachels, “Encyclopædia Britannica,” Encyclopædia Britannica, 24 August 2015. Accessed 15 May 2019. 37  George F. Hourani, “Divine Justice and Human Reason in Mu’tazilite Ethical Theology,” in Ethics in Islam, ed., Richard G. Hovannisian (Ninth Annual Levi Della Vida Conference, 6–8 May 1983) (Malibu, Calif: Undena Publications, 1985), 73–83. 38  Mariam al-Attar, “Meta-ethics: A Quest for an Epistemological Basis of Morality in Classical Islamic Thought,” Journal of Islamic Ethics 1: 1–2 (2017): 29–50. 36

4  Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism

69

what is right and wrong for it (alhamahā fujūrahā wa taqwāhā) (91:7–10). It also says, “O mankind, We created you male and female, and made you into nations and tribes that you may come to know one another. The noblest among you in God’s sight are the most pious” (49:13). These Qurʾānic verses assume that some of the good things, actions and behavior enjoined by the Qurʾān are known without the help of revelation. Moreover, terms like maʿrūf, ṣāliḥ, birr, ḥasan, words that essentially denote what is good, do not point to s a single source of knowledge. The right thing to say, the right thing to do, is not obvious, nor can it be prescribed or legislated; it is nonetheless exactly what the Qurʾān demands of Muslims. As neatly stated by Kevin Reinhart: “What is known is not always known through revelation. The Qurʾān urges us to look for ethical knowledge wherever it may be found.”39 The Muʿtazilite judge and theologian ‘Abd al-Jabbār (d. 1025) asserted that all people, regardless of their religion, share basic moral knowledge. If good and evil were known only through scripture, then the rational human beings who do not believe in God would not have any knowledge of good and evil. This is certainly not the case; hence, good and evil are not known only through revelation, but through reason. He says: If good and evil are known only through divine commands then “it would necessarily follow that the materialists (al-dahriyya) and others who believe in the pre-eternity of the world would not know or doubt, given their state [as atheists], the evil of injustice and other such evils. This is wrong because it is based on the view that they, despite their maturity of the intellect (kamāl ‘uqūli-him), do not know that which is clearly observed (al-mudrakāt).”40 He also says: An adult with sound mind necessarily knows the evilness of transgression (qubḥ al-ẓulm), the evilness of being ungrateful to a benefactor (kufr al-ni‘ma), and the evilness of lying if it is not intended to bring about benefit or to repel harm. One also knows the goodness of compassion and giving (al-iḥsān wa al-tafaḍul). One also knows that thanking a benefactor and returning a trust when asked for and being just are all considered obligations.41

‘Abd al-Jabbār maintained that even divine judgments would be irrational and not valid if prescribed for no purpose; he says, “If He [God] had no purpose in assigning an obligation, then the assignment of the obligation would be irrational (qabīḥ).” His judgments could not be based on purposes related to His own benefit. Thus, “His purpose (gharaḍuhu) must be the benefit of the addressee (al-mukallaf).” From the above, we can see that the Mu‘tazilites clearly established that the purposes of the Shari‘a is to benefit human beings. ‘Abd al-Jabbār’s view also indicates the importance of interpreting a text in a way that conforms to human purposes and values. Divine purposes revealed in the sacred text, whether directly or indirectly,  Kevin Reinhart, “What We Know about Maʿrūf,” Journal of Islamic Ethics 1:1–2 (2017): 51–82.  ‛Abd al-Jabbār Abū al-Ḥasan al-Asadābādī, al-Mughnī fī Abwāb al-Tawḥīd wa al-‛Adl, al-Ta‘dīl wa al-Tajwīr, Vol. 6–1. (no publication references), 89. 41  ‛Abd al-Jabbār Abū al-Ḥasan al-Asadābādī, al-Mughnī fī Abwāb al-Tawḥīd wa al-‛Adl, al-Taklīf, Vol. 11. (Cairo: n.h., 1965), 384. 39 40

70

M. al-Attar

cannot be disconnected from human moral exhortations and the ultimate objectives of human beings. The ultimate objectives of humans are the core universal moral values, akin to the maqāṣid or ‘the purposes of law’ articulated and developed by various Muslim scholars who prevailed after the decline of the Muʿtazilites. This makes the theory of al-maqāṣid a moral rather than a legal theory, regardless of the fact that most of the scholars who articulated it after the decline of the Muʿtazilites insisted (in adherence to the Ash‘arite dogma) that the maqāṣid are derived, by the method of induction, from various legal rules found in the Qur’an. Richard Frank rightly stated that Ethical Voluntarism, advocated by al-Ash‘arī and the Ash‘arites implies that “it is fundamentally and ultimately impossible to explain God’s commands in terms of any purpose or end.”42 It is impossible to explain any purpose or end by relating it to commands and rules not initially based on moral considerations. The three basic features of the Muʿtazilite ethical theory, namely purposefulness, universality, and the underlying principle of well-being or public interest (maṣlaḥa) were maintained by the late Ash‘arite scholars who adhered to different schools of law. The concept of ‘purposeful commands’ contradicts the basic assumption of any consistent classical Divine Command Theory or “ethical voluntarism.” Harm (mafsada) and benefit (manfaʿa) were the ultimate foundations of moral and legal judgments, and it was agreed upon by almost all Muslim jurists that maṣlaḥa — which is often rendered as benefit or public interest43 — is the ultimate foundation and the reason behind all commands and prohibition. The doctrine of al-maqāṣid (purposes or objectives) was based upon the presumption that divine judgments are founded. Divine judgments, according to the theory of al-maqāṣid, are to be understood within the framework and the ultimate purposes of the Shariʿa, which is preserving certain necessities or values. Those have traditionally included religion, life, intellect, progeny and property, which are often called al-kulliyāt al-khams (the five universal principles).44 Al-Ghazālī does not deny that commonly accepted moral principles and purposes could be determined by investigating humans’ purposes. Yet, according to him, these purposes are subtle and concealed, so they are not recognized except by those who scrutinize and investigate (lā yantabihu lahā illa al-muḥaqqiqūn).45 He was the first to articulated the five essential purposes, known as the purposes of law (al-shar‘), mentioned above. Admitting and acknowledging human agency in formulating and establishing the ‘universal necessities’ or maqāṣid calls for a non-Ash‘arite ethical foundation. This  Richard M. Frank, “Moral Obligation in Classical Muslim Theology,” Journal of Religious ethics 11:2 (1983): 204–223. 43  Maṣlaḥa is much closer in meaning to wellbeing as argued by Felicitas Opwis in “Maṣlaḥa in Contemporary Islamic Legal Theory,” Islamic Law and Society, Vol. 12, No. 2 (2005), 182–223. 44  By introducing the term of munāsib (appropriate) to describe the relationship between individual rulings and the maqāṣid, al-Ghazālī maintained that the objectives of the law promulgate human wellbeing, while avoiding the Mu‘azilite assertion that the law has to serve human wellbeing. 45  Abu Hamed al-Ghazālī, Al-Mustaṣfa min ‘Ilm al-Uṣūl, Vol. 1 (Beirut: Dar Ṣader, 1995). 42

4  Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism

71

would open the door for more ethical reflections on theoretical and practical matters from various perspectives, taking into consideration the advancement of human knowledge. Maqāṣid al-sharīʿa is a normative ethical theory, to use the contemporary terminology. It is not sacred, it is not final and it is not the only moral theory developed in Islam. It is the production of the 6th AH/12th moral thought and it culminated in the wisdom of the eighth/fourteenth century scholars such as al- Shāṭibī, but it cannot be called “the” Islamic Theory, as that would label any attempt to criticize it, amend it, or produce alternative theories, as un-Islamic. Indeed, modern and contemporary scholars move away from reducing God’s intentions to preserving the five necessities of human existence, as defined by al-Ghazālī; “They add to those purposes or values justice, equality, freedom, human rights, political participation and equal opportunities.”46

4.6  Conclusion Understanding moral pluralism as articulated by contemporary philosophers lead to the identification of the essential concepts that distinguish moral pluralism from religious pluralism and from ethical relativism. I showed that these essential concepts also exist in the Arab-Islamic intellectual heritage. Drawing upon the concept of universal common morality, established by the Mu‘tazilites, and plurality of moral values developed by the Ash‘arites, I argued that one can develop a theory of moral pluralism. This could widen the domain of common morality and allow us to embrace pluralism, not only as an instrumental value for promoting our own ends, but as a genuine and integral dimension of our cultural heritage.

References ‘Abd al-Jabbār Abū al-Ḥasan al-Asadābādī. n.d.-a. Al-Mughnī fī Abwāb al-Tawḥīd wa al-‛adl, al-Ta‘dīl wa al-Tajwīr. Vol. 6-1. n.h. ———. n.d.-b. Al-Mughnī fī Abwāb al-Tawḥīd wa al-‛adl, al-Iradah. Vol 6-2. n.h. ———. 1965. Al-Mughnī fī Abwāb al-Tawḥīd wa al-‛adl, al-Taklīf. Vol. 11. Cairo: n.h. al-Attar, Mariam. 2017. Meta-ethics: A Quest for an Epistemological Basis of Morality in Classical Islamic Thought. Journal of Islamic ethics 1 (1–2): 29–50. Al-Ghazālī, Abu Hamed. 1995. Al-Mustasfa min ‘Ilm al-Usul. Vol. 1. Beirut: Dar Sader. Berlin, Isaiah. 1997. The Proper Study of Mankind: An Anthology of Essays. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

 Felicitas Opwis, “maqasid al-Shariʿah,” in Routledge Handbook of Islamic Law, eds, Khaled Abou El Fadl, et al., op. cit., 195–207.

46

72

M. al-Attar

Bowden, John. 2005. Religious Pluralism and the Heritage of the Enlightment. In Islam and Global Dialogue: Religious Pluralism and the Pursuit of Peace, ed. Roger Boase, 13–21. Aldershot: Ashgate. Cherniss, Joshua, and Henry Hardy. 2018. Isaiah Berlin. In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2018/entries/berlin/. Clifford, William K. 2020. The Ethics of Belief [1877]. Contemporary Review 1–10. 05 January 2020. http://people.brandeis.edu/~teuber/Clifford_ethics.pdf. Daher, Adel. 2009. Democracy, Pluralism and Political Islam. In The Challenge of Pluralism: Paradigms from Muslim Contexts, ed. Abdou Filali-Ansary and Ahmed Sikeena Kamali, 62–77. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. D’Costa, Gavin. 1996. The Impossibility of a Pluralist View of Religions. Religious studies 32: 223–232. Eck, Diana L. 2005. Is Our God Listening? Exclusivism, Inclusivism and Pluralism. In Islam and Global Dialogue: Religious Pluralism and the Pursuit of Peace, ed. Roger Boase, 21–49. Aldershot/Burlington: Ashgate. Fadl, El, and Khaled Abou. 2019. What Type of Law is Islamic Law. In Routledge Handbook of Islamic Law, ed. Khaled Abou El Fadl, Ahmad Atef Ahmad, and Said Fares Hassan, 11–39. London/New York: Routledge. Frank, Richard M. 1983. Moral Obligation in Classical Muslim Theology. Journal of Religious Ethics 11: 204–223. Gert, Bernard, Gert, Joshua, and Edward N. Zalta. eds. 2017. The Definition of Morality. In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 4 December 2018. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/ fall2017/entries/morality-­definition/.. Hashas, Mohammed. 2019. The Idea of European Islam: Religion, Ethics, Politics and Perpetual Modernity. London/New York: Routlege. Hermansen, Marcia K. 2016. Classical and Contemporary Islamic Perspectives on Religgious Plurality. In Islam, Religions and Pluralism in Europe, ed. Ednan Aslan, Ranja Ebrahim, and Marcia Hermansen, 39–56. Wiesbaden: Springer. Hick, John. 2010. Dialogues in the Philosophy of Religion. New York: Palgrave. Hourani, George F. 1985a. Divine Justice and Human Reason in Mu’tazilite Ethical Theology. In Ethics in Islam, ed. Richard G. Hovannisian, 73–83. Malibu: Undena Publications. ———. 1985b. Reason and Tradition in Islamic Ethics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Inwagen, Peter Van. 1996. Is it Wrong Everywhere, Always and for Anyone to Believe Anything on Insufficient Evidence? In Faith, Freedom and Rationality, ed. Jeff Jordan and Daniel Howard-­ Snyder, 137–153. Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield Press. Küng, Hans. 1998. A Global Ethic for Global Politics and Economics. New York/Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kekes, John. 1993. The Morality of Pluralism. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Legenhausen, Muhammad. 2005. A Muslim’s Non-Reductive Religious Pluralism. In Islam and Global Dialogue: Religious Pluralism and the Pursuit of Peace, ed. Roger Boase, 51–73. Aldershot/Burlington: Ashgate. MacIntyre, Alasdair. 1999. Moral Pluralism Without Moral Relativism. In The Proceedings of the Twentieth World Congress of Philosophy, 1–8. Bowling Green: Philosophy Documentation Center. March, Andrew. 2009. Islam and Libersl Citizenship: The Search for an Overlapping Consensus. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Mason, Elinor. 2005. Value Pluralism. 2 June. In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N.  Zalta, Spring 2018 ed. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2018/entries/ value-­pluralism/. Masud, Muhammad Khalid. 2002. The Scope of Pluralism in Islamic Moral Traditions. In Islamic Political Ethics: Civil Society, Pluralism, and Conflict, ed. Sohail Hashmi, 135–147. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

4  Theories of Ethics in Islamic Thought and the Question of Moral Pluralism

73

Norton, Michael Barnes. n.d. Religious Pluralism – Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Accessed 12 June 2018. http://www.iep.utm.edu/rel-­plur/. Opwis, Felicitas. 2005. Maṣlaḥa in Contemporary Islamic Legal Theory. Islamic Law and Society 12 (2): 182–223. ———. 2019. Maqasid al-Shariʿah. In Routledge Handbook of Islamic Law, ed. Khaled Abou El Fadl, Atif Atif Ahmad, and Said Fares Hassan, 195–207. London/New York: Routledge. Oses, Paula Zoido. 2016. Between History and Philosophy: Isaiah Berlin on Political Theory and Hermeneutics. PhD dissertation. London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE). Race, Alan. 1983. Christians and Religious Pluralism: Patterns in the Christian Theology of Religions. Maryknoll: Orbis Books. Rachels, James. 2015. Encyclopædia Britannica. 24 August. Encyclopædia Britannica. 15 May 2019. https://www.britannica.com/topic/ethical-­relativism. Reinhart, Kevin. 2017. What We Know About Maʿrūf. Journal of Islamic Ethics 1 (1–2): 51–82. Trigg, Roger. 2014. Religious Diversity. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Chapter 5

Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective Mohsen Kadivar

Abstract  This chapter explores the major aspects of Shi‘a Islamic thought on the subject of religious pluralism in three sections. The first section is a necessary discussion of the classical juridical method of interpretation of divine law called ‘abrogation.’ Although there are a lot of verses in the Qur’an endorsing the notions of freedom, tolerance, diversity, and pluralism, all of these verses were abrogated by the Sword Verse, according to some major classical Sunni scholars. Accepting abrogation means that there is no valid Qur’anic argument left in support of freedom and diversity in the modern sense. According to Shi’a exegeses of the Qur’an, however, none of these verses were abrogated; the Qur’anic arguments on freedom and diversity are always valid since they are an essential part of faith; they cannot be abrogated. Shi‘a scholars proved the impossibility of abrogation of these liberal verses in four arguments. This section is the longest in the chapter since it engages in details with both classical and modern Sunni and Shi‘a scholarship on the topic of abrogation. The second section succinctly refers to some of the political teachings of Imām ‘Ali Ibn Abī Ṭālib, teachings which are very supportive of diversity and pluralism in the modern sense. The third section discusses briefly the place of reason (‘aql) in Islamic thought, with its higher importance in Shi‘i kalam and fiqh. Keywords  Shi‘ite Islam · Abrogation · Freedom of religion · Pluralist Qur’anic Verses · Imām ‘Ali · kalam · fiqh · Reason · ‘aql · al-Ṭūsī · al-Tabātabā’ī

M. Kadivar (*) Duke University, Durham, NC, USA e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_5

75

76

M. Kadivar

5.1  Introduction I have two introductory remarks, first on the genealogies of pluralism, and the second on Shi‘ite Islam.

5.1.1  Genealogies of Pluralism There are at least two domains for pluralism: political and religious. There is no necessary correlation between these two kinds of pluralism. As an advocate of political pluralism, I focus my discussion on religious pluralism. Pluralism is neither diversity alone, nor just tolerance. The language of pluralism is that of dialogue and encounter, give and take, criticism and self-criticism.1 A pluralistic approach means that one’s own religion is not held to be the sole and exclusive source of truth, and thus the acknowledgement that at least some truths and true values exist in other religions as well. In the pluralistic approach, it is accepted that two or more religions with mutually exclusive truth claims are equally valid. It can be defined as “respecting the otherness of others”.2 The exclusivist approach, however, teaches that such an approach is the only way to religious truth and salvation, and sometimes it is necessary to suppress the falsehoods taught by other religions. As to the inclusivist approach, it asserts that while one set of beliefs is absolutely true, other sets of beliefs are at least partially true. It stands as a particular form of religious pluralism.3 Religious pluralism has been used in two ways, general and specific; the former is anti-exclusivism and includes inclusivism; the latter is the counterpart of inclusivism and exclusivism. In this chapter, when I defend religious pluralism, I mean its general meaning, which is inclusivist, and anti-exclusivist. Exclusivists are in majority in all traditions, including Islam, both Sunni and Shi‘ite. There is a strong inclusivist approach among Muslim reformists, both Sunni and Shi‘ite. Adapting religious pluralism (in its specific meaning) to Islam is not an easy job, as long as the Qur’an and the authentic Tradition of the Prophet are the criteria of Islam. I am talking of the comprehensive analysis of Islam, not of a selective approach, highlighting the evidence that support a specific idea, neglecting those evidences against that idea, and imposing specific views to the Qur’an and the Sunna.

1  Diana L.  Eck, What is Pluralism? The Pluralism Project, Harvard University, 2006. Accessed 07/05/2018, http://pluralism.org/what-is-pluralism 2  Chris Beneke, Beyond Toleration: The Religious Origins of American Pluralism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006). 3  See David Basinger, Religious Diversity (Pluralism), in Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2015 (Accessed 07/05/2018), and John Hick, An Interpretation of Religion: Human Responses to the Transcendent (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989).

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

77

There are three important domains for religious pluralism: inter-religion, intra-­ religion and intra-denomination. The first is the case of relations between Islam and other religions such as Christianity and Hinduism. The second is the case of relations between Sunni and Shi‘ite Islam. The third is divided into two kinds: the first kind concerns relations between schools of each denomination, such as the relations among different Sunni legal or theological schools (Ash‘arites with Māturidis, or Mālikis with Hanafis, etc.), or among different Shi‘ite legal or theological schools (Ja’faris with Zaidis, or Usūlis with Akhbāris, etc.); the second kind concerns readings or interpretations in each theological or legal school of one denomination, such as the challenges between traditionalists and reformists. Sufism could be considered a strong competitor in the domain of intra-religion relations. It is possible to talk about intra-denomination when referring to the competition of different Sufi tariqas. In this chapter, I will focus on inter-religion first and a little on intra-religion relations.

5.1.2  Shi‘ite Islam There are a lot of misunderstandings about Shi‘ite Islam among some Sunni Muslims. They believe that the only orthodox Islam is Sunni Islam, and Shi‘ites are not Muslims! This is the result of an international research: Many Muslims across the globe hold firm views on such questions; asked, for example, whether there is only one true way to interpret Islam’s teachings or whether multiple interpretations are possible, half or more of the Muslims surveyed in 32 of the 39 countries included in the study say there is only one true way to interpret their religion. Yet, at the same time, opinion as to which groups or sects adhere to the true interpretation – and which do not – varies significantly among Muslims around the world.4

The status of Shi‘a Muslims is a case in point. In 13 of the 23 countries where the question was asked, at least half of respondents say that Shi‘as are members of the Islamic faith, and in at least two countries – Egypt and Morocco –the prevailing view (52% and 51%, respectively) is that Shi‘as are not Muslims! In Morocco: 33% say that Shi‘as are Muslims, 51% Shi‘as are not Muslims, and 16% have never heard of Shi‘as or don’t know.5 According to this research, Morocco is the most exclusivist intra-religion country in the case of Shi‘ite Islam. Keeping this research in mind, we understand the importance and necessity of this topic of pluralism in Islamic contexts. It is not an imaginary subject; this is an unpleasant fact that we should change. I try to describe briefly my standing point about both Sunni and Shi‘ite Islam; they are two orthodox interpretations/perspectives of Islam. Shi‘ite Islam is neither 4  Pew Research Center, The World’s Muslims: Unity and Diversity, Chapter 5: Boundaries of Religious Identity, August 9, 2012, https://www.pewforum.org/2012/08/09/ the-worlds-muslims-unity-and-diversity-executive-summary/ 5  Ibid.

78

M. Kadivar

heterodox, nor a sect.6 Neither Sunni Islam nor Shi‘ite Islam is a revolt against an established orthodoxy. It should not be compared with reform movements in Christianity and Judaism. Sunni Islam and Shi‘ite Islam are denominations within Islam placed there not to destroy its unity, but to enable a larger humanity and ­differing spiritual types to participate in it. Both are based on the assertion of the Shahāda (Testimony of Oneness of God, and Muhammad as Messenger of God).7 The difference between Sunni Islam and Shi‘ite Islam concerns the problem of the successor to the Prophet as the leader of the community after his death.8 The majority agreed on Abu Bakr (Prophet’s father-in-law) on the assumption that the Prophet left no instruction on this matter. They were called “The people of tradition and community” (Ahl al-Sunna wa al-Jamā‘a), and afterwards became known as the ‘Sunnis’. The minority believed that ‘Ali (Prophet’s cousin and his son-in-law) had been designated for this role by appointment (ta‘yīn) and testament (naṣ). They were called “Partisans (shī‘a) of ‘Ali”, and later “Shi‘ites.” What was the function of this successor to the Prophet? Such a person could not continue the prophetic authority and revelation. Sunni Muslims considered the successor to be ‘caliph (khalīfa) of the Prophet’ in his capacity as the “ruler” of the community and guardian of the Shari‘a in the Muslim community, the umma. Shi‘ite Muslims believed that the successor ‘Imām’ must also be the “interpreter of religious science” and the “trustee” (waṣiyy) of his esoteric knowledge.9 So, the major function of the Imām is his religious authority and spiritual inheritance of prophetic knowledge in interpreting revelation, the tradition of the prophet and his esoteric teachings. His minor function was to be the ruler of his time. Although the difference between Sunni Islam and Shi‘ite Islam appears firstly to be only political, but it is more than that; it is theological. The political aspect of the successor is historical, and belongs to the past, while the religious authority aspect is not only for the past, but also for the present and future.10 There is a big difference between historical political succession (caliphate) and religious and spiritual authority (imāma, or imamate). The sources of Islam for ALL Muslims are the Qur’an and the Tradition of the Prophet. The third source of Islam for Sunni Muslims is the consensus (ijmā‘)

6  Although within Shi‘ite Islam there have been groups that radically deviated from the main orthodoxy path, and became sects in the real sense, such as the Ghulāt (exaggerators) sect, they are far from being the mainstream of Shi‘ite Islam. 7  Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Ideals and Realities of Islam (Chicago: ABC International Group, Inc., 2000). 8  For more see Wilfred F. Madelung, The Succession to Muhammad (Cambridge University Press, 1997); Mahmoud M. Ayoub, The Crises of Muslim History: Religion and Politics in Early Islam (London: Oneworld, 2003); Lesley Hazleton, After the Prophet: The Epic Story of the Shia-Sunni Split in Islam (New York: Anchor Books, 2010). 9  Al-Mufid Muhammad ibn Muhammad, Awā’il al Maqālāt fi al-Madhāhib wa al-Mukhtarah (Principal Theses of Selected Doctrines), Ibrahim Ansāri Zanjāni, ed. (Qom: Mussanafāt alShaykh al-Mufid, volume 4, 1993); and Nasr, op. cit. 10  Muzaffar, Muhammad Reda: The Faith of Shi‘i Islam (London: Muhammadi Trust, 1989).

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

79

theoretically, and practically the understanding of the Prophet’s companions; while for Shi‘ite Muslims the third source of Islam is the teachings of the imams.11 The principles of Islam (uṣūl al-dīn) for both Sunni and Shi‘ite Islam are the same: believing in One God (tawhīd), believing in the hereafter (ma‘ād), believing in Muhammad (PBUH) as messenger of God and His prophet (nubuwwa), including the belief in the Qur’an as the revelation and words of God (kalām Allāh). As to the principles of Shi‘ite Islam (uṣūl al-madhhab), they are as follows: divine Justice (al-‘adāla) and spiritual leadership (al-imāma). The five pillars of Sunni Islam are more practical, while the practical pillars of Islam are called furu’ ud-dīn in Shi‘ite Islam.12 Spiritual leadership (al-imāma) is ‘a principle’ (aṣl) in Shi‘ite theology (kalām), while the caliphate is a subject of Sunni jurisprudence (fiqh). The Imām should be of the highest level of morality (taqwā) and knowledge (‘ilm).13 It is a spectrum from the virtuous scholars (al-‘ulamā’ al-abrār)14 to the infallible (al-ma‘ṣūm) Imām, who holds inspired knowledge (al-‘ilm al-ladunnī).15 Shi‘ites led a quiet life in the time of first three caliphs. ‘Ali himself retired from public activity, advised the caliphs when necessary and devoted his time to training and instruction of his disciples.16 The years of the caliphate of ‘Ali were full of hardship (three civil wars), the first was organized by ‘Āisha, the youngest widow of the Prophet, Talhah and Zubair two companions of the Prophet,17 the second by

 At-Tabātabā’ī, Sayyed Muhammad Husayn, Shi‘ite Islam, translated by Seyyed Hossein Nasr (New York: State University of New York, 1977). 12  Sobhani, Doctrines of Shi‘i Islam (A Compendium of Imāmi Beliefs and Practices), trans. Reza Shah-Kazemi (London: I.B. Tauris, London, 2001). 13  Naṣīr-al-Dīn at-Tūsī, Tajrīd al-iʿtiqād (Outline of Belief), ed. Moḥammad-Jawād Jalāli (Tehran: 1986). 14  Modarressi, Hossein, Crisis and Consolidation in the Formative Period of Shi‘ite Islam, Princeton: Darwin Press, 1993; Mohsen Kadivar, al-Qira’at al-Mansiyya: I’āda qirā’a nazaryah al-a’ima al-ithnā ‘ashar ‘ulama’ al-abrar wa arba’a maqālat ukhrā (The forgotten readings: revisiting the theory of twelve Imams as ‘virtuous scholars’, and four other articles), trans. Sa’d Rustam (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Intishār al-‘Arabī, 2011a). (It was published without author’s permission and even information!) 15  Hasan B.  Yusuf al-Hilli, Al-Babu al-Hadi ‘Ashar (A treatise on the Principles of Shi‘ite Theology), with commentary by Miqdad-i-Fadil al-Hilli, trans. William McElwee Miller (London: Royal Asiatic Soc., 1958). 16  Nasr, Ideals and Realities of Islam, 2000. 17  Al-Shaykh Al-Mufid, al-Jamal wa al-Nusrah li Sayyid al-‘Itrah fi Harb al-Basrah, ‘Ali MirSaarifi, ed., (Qom: Mawsu’ah al-Shaykh al-Mufid, volume 2, 2010); Muhammad b. Jarir al-Ṭabarī, Tārīkh al-Rusul wa al-Mulūk, ed. Muhammad Abu al-Fadl (Egypt: 1983), vol. 4; (English translation, 1997: The History of al-Ṭabarī, vol. 16: The Community Divided); Wilfred F. Madelung, The Succession to Muhammad (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997); and Ayoub, The Crises of Muslim History, 2003. 11

80

M. Kadivar

Mu’āwiyah b. Abi Sufyān,18 and the last one by the Khawārij/Secessionists.19 The most difficult time for Shi‘ites was the time of the Umayyad caliphate. Hussain ibn ‘Ali, the grandson of the Prophet and his companions were massacred in Karbala.20 Sunni and Shi‘ite Islam as two orthodox denominations of Islam, have almost the same approaches and arguments about diversity, tolerance and religious pluralism, according to the Qur’an and Sunna. I do not need to mention these broad common grounds. In this chapter, I focus on three major points that I think Shi‘ite Islam has, maybe more advantageously, in supporting religious pluralism. It is not an apologetic discussion, but a case study for critical thinking and better understanding of one other.

5.2  S  ection 1: The Problem of Abrogating Pluralist Qur’anic Verses This section has ten subsections and an introduction. There are some verses of the Qur’an that support the notions of diversity, tolerance, freedom of religion and belief, and religious pluralism.21 These notions of the Qur’an are accepted if they were not abrogated. But many exegetes of the Qur’an asserted that all of these verses of tolerance, freedom and religious pluralism were abrogated by the so-called “sword verse” and alike verses.22 According to this approach of abrogation, there remains no verse in support of these liberal modern notions of tolerance, freedom and pluralism; on the other hand, according to this approach of abrogation, it becomes an Islamic duty to invite all non-Muslims to Islam, and if they do not accept to convert to Islam, they have to be killed in jihad, or enslaved. The People of the Book have the third choice, and it is paying a protection tax (jizya). No peace agreement or covenant between Muslims and non-Muslims after these abrogating verses are accepted, and all treaties made  Nasr ibn al-Muzāhim al-Minqarī, Waq‘at Ṣiffīn, ‘Abdul-Salām Muhammad Hārun (ed.), Cairo: 1382AH/1962; al-Ṭabarī, 1983, Vol. 5; (English translation: The History of al-Ṭabarī, vol. 17: The First Civil War, translator: G.R. Hawting (Albany, SUNY, 1996); Madelung, The Succession to Muhammad, 1997); Ayoub, The Crises of Muslim History, 2003. 19  Madelung, The Succession to Muhammad, 1977, and Ayoub, The Crises of Muslim History, 2003. 20  Al-Ṭabarī, 1983, vol. 5 (English Translation: The History of al-Ṭabarī, vol. 19: The Caliphate of Yazid ibn Mu’awiyah, trans. I.K.A.  Howard (Albany: SUNY, 1990); and Mahmoud Ayoub, Redemptive suffering in Islam. A study of the devotional aspects of ‘Ashūrā in Twelver Shiʿism (New York: Mouton Publisher, 1978). 21  The Qur’an: 2:62, 109, 113, 217, 256; 3:85–90; 4:81; 4:156; 5: 45, 48, 99; 6:68, 149; 7:88, 121–124; 8:42; 10:99, 108; 11:28, 118–119; 13:40; 16:35, 125; 18:29; 25:56–58; 27:91–93; 32:30; 37:174, 178; 39:41; 40:26; 51:54; 56:6; 76:3; 88:21–22; 109:1–6. I classified, interpreted and highlighted the indications of those verses relegated to freedom in this book chapter: Kadivar, “Freedom of Religion and Belief in Islam,” in Mehran Kamrava, ed., The New Voices of Islam: Reforming Politics and Modernity – A Reader (London, I. B. Tauris, 2006), 119–142. 22  The Qur’an: 3:85; 4:89; 9:5, 12, 29, 36, 73, 123; 47:4; 66:9. 18

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

81

before the abrogating verses would be cancelled. Accordingly, it is said that putting the people between Islam and death is not only the Qur’anic way, but it is also the authentic tradition of our Prophet too. This is an ugly perspective of Islam, Qur’an and Sunna. We cannot deny this approach held in the mind and writings of many exegetes of the Qur’an, compilers of hadith, theologians and jurists. Fortunately, the details of this ugly perspective were not based on consensus or agreement of Muslim scholars. But it is undeniable that this ugly perspective is a reality in the Islamic heritage. The major obstacle of diversity, tolerance, freedom of religion and belief, and religious pluralism is abrogation of all corresponding verses by the sword verse and alike ones. If we examine this approach in the three fields of Islamic sciences, i.e. the Qur’anic sciences (‘ulūm al-Qur’ān), the exegesis of the Qur’an (tafāsir al-Qur’ān) and jurisprudence (fiqh), and we compare Sunni and Shi‘ite scholars, we understand the importance and vitality of the subject. So, before any judgment or prejudice, it is necessary to review the key points of the major Muslim scholars’ viewpoints in this case. I selected twelve scholars, including eight Sunni and four Shi‘ite experts of the Qur’anic sciences or exegetes who wrote on this subject; their writings manifest the turning points in the study of the abrogating and abrogated. The order is chronological.

5.2.1  The Principle of Abrogation of Liberal Verses Ibn Salamah (Hibatullah ibn Salamat ibn Nasr) (d. 410/1019), a Sunni scholar of the Qur’anic sciences, at the end of his book The Abrogating and the Abrogated [Verses of the Qur’an] mentioned several thinkable ‘principles’; for example, the Sword Verse (9:5) abrogated all of the verses of the Qur’an such as “so leave them alone (4:81, 6:68, & 32:30), so [Prophet] turn away from (37:174 & 178, 51:54 and 56:6), and let them go on their way (9:5) or the report of the People of the Book and His command to forgive and forbear them (2:109)”.23 According to Ibn Salamah, the number of abrogated verses by the sword verse is 124 verses.24 The contemporary Egyptian scholar Mustafa Zayd – who wrote one of the most comprehensive books on the Abrogation in the Qur’an in Arabic – stated: I researched all the verses that were claimed to be abrogated by the sword verse, and they are over 140 verses!25 Zayd himself criticized strongly the abrogation of all of these verses by the sword verse (and alike ones) one by one. We should keep in our

 Mustafa Zayd, Al-Naskh fi al-Qur’an al-Karim, dirāsah tashri’iyah, tārikhiyah, naqdiya (The Abrogation in the Qur’an: a legal, historical and critical study) (Cairo: Dār al-Wafā, 1987), 364 & 597. 24  Louay Fatoohi, Abrogation in the Qurʾan and Islamic Law: A Critical Study of the Concept of “Naskh” and its Impact (New York: Routledge, 2013), 120. 25  Zayd, 1987, 508. 23

82

M. Kadivar

mind that Ibn Salamah’s principle of abrogation is the framework of all of the scholars who advocated this type of abrogation after him.

5.2.2  T  he First Argumentation on the Impossibility of Abrogation: Declarative Verses Shaykh al-Tā’ifa Muhammad al-Hassan al-Ṭūsī (385–460/995–1067) – one of the top three scholars in the Shi‘ite history – in his interpretation of the verse (2:62) – “The [Muslim] believers, the Jews, the Christians, and the Sabians – all those who believe in God and the Last Day and do good– will have their rewards with their Lord. No fear for them, nor will they grieve”26- narrated from [‘Abdullāh] Ibn ‘Abbās that this verse was abrogated by the verse “If anyone seeks a religion other than complete devotion to God [i.e. Islam], it will not be accepted from him” (3:85). At-Tūsī, however, responded in this way to such a claim of abrogation: “It is far from the truth, because declarative (ikhbārī) sentence that includes warning is not accepted to be abrogated. The only things that could be abrogated are the Shari‘a rulings that their changes are accepted.”27 Amīn al-Islām al-Fadl ibn al-Hassan al-Tabrasi (also al-Tabarsi) (468–548/1073–1153) – one of the top three exegetes of the Qur’an in the Shi‘ite history – argued in the same way as al-Ṭūsī, and added “The only things that could be abrogated are the Shari‘a rulings that their change and replacement for interest (maṣlaḥa) are accepted. It is better to justify that it is not correct to attribute this narrative to[‘Abdullāh] Ibn ‘Abbās!”28 The impossibility of the declarative (ikhbārī) sentences, and restricting the abrogation to creative (inshā’ī) sentences is a very productive principle in the Qur’anic sciences. Abrogation is confined to the Shari‘a rulings, so there is no abrogation in the theological, philosophical, cosmological, or epistemological verses. It is the first strong argumentation on the impossibility of abrogation of many liberal verses of the Qur’an.

 I used this English translation of the Qur’an in this chapter: The Qur’an, a new translation by Muhammad A. S. Abdel Haleem (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005). 27  At-Tūsi, al-Tibyān fi Tafsīr al-Qur’ān, Aḥmad Ḥabīb Qaṣīr ʻĀmilī, ed. (Beirut: Dar Ihyā’ atTurath al-‘Arabi, 2010) 1:284–285. 28  At-Tabrasi, Majma‘al-Bayān fī Tafsīr al-Qur’ān (Beirut: Dar al-‘Ulūm, 2005) 1:244. 26

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

83

5.2.3  T  he Approach of ‘Many Exegetes’ of the Qur’an: The Abrogation of Liberal Verses Imam Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-Qurtubi (d. 671/1273) – one of the most distinguished Māliki exegetes of the Qur’an – in the interpretation of the famous verse “There is no compulsion in religion: true guidance has become distinct from error” (2:256) reported the first approach (of six approaches) in this way: “It is said that this verse was abrogated, because the Messenger of God forced the Arabs on Islam, fought against them, and did not satisfy them except by converting to Islam. Sulaymān b. Mūsā said: This verse was abrogated by the verse: “Prophet, strive against the disbelievers and the hypocrites, and be tough with them” (9:73 and 66:9). It was narrated from Abdullah b. Mas’ūd and many exegetes” (emphasis added).29 One example of these ‘many exegetes’ could be Imam al-Hussain b. al-Mas’ūd al-Baghawi (d. 516/1122) one of the well-known Shāfi’i exegetes.30 I think Imam al-Qurtubi knew the meaning of ‘many exegetes’ well. In his exegesis of the verse “Prophet, strive against the disbelievers and the hypocrites, and be tough with them. Hell is their final home– an evil destination!” (9:73), Imam al-Qurtubi explicitly wrote: “This verse abrogated all issues of forgiveness, peace and pardon (al-safh).”31 It is clear that according to this approach such verses abrogated all liberal verses of the Qur’an, and Islam would, henceforth, stand against religious pluralism, tolerance and so on. This is another narrative of Ibn Salāmah’s principle on abrogation, besides the one referred to above. Although Imam Muhammad b. Ali al-Shawkānī (d. 1250/1835), a Yemeni Sunni scholar, did not accept that the famous verse 2:256 was abrogated, but he did not hide that “the abrogation of that verse by 9:5, 9:73 and 48:16, had been the approach of many exegetes” (kathīr min al-mufassirīn).32 He mentioned the name of scholars of the other six approaches, most of them had only one advocate, and the second approach had four advocates. Compare this with the first approach where he described them as ‘many.’ Imam al-Shawkānī was an expert in the field, and his report about the large number of the exegetes who advocated the abrogation of the liberal verses of the Qur’an should be considered seriously.

29  Al-Qurtubi, Tafsīr al-Jami’ li ahkām al-Qur’ān, ‘Abdullah b. ‘Abdul-Muhsin al-Turki, ed. (Beirut: al-Resalah, 2006) 4:280. 30  Al-Baghawi, Ma’ālim al-Tanzil, Muhammad ‘Abdullah b. al-Namir and others, ed. (Riyadh: n.h., 1988) 1:314. 31  Al-Qurtubi, Tafsīr al-Jami’ li ahkām al-Qur’ān, 2006, 10:301. 32  Al-Shawkānī, Fath al-Qadīr, Yusif al-Ghūsh, ed. (Beirut: Dar-al-Ma’rifa, 2007) 1: 176.

84

M. Kadivar

5.2.4  F  our Sword Verses Abrogated All Liberal Verses and Covenants with Non-believers Imam Ismā’il ibn ‘Umar ibn Kathīr (701–774/1300–1373), the Shafi’i influential and comprehensive scholar, and the author of the most popular exegesis of the of the Qur’an in the Sunni world  – wrote in the interpretation of the verse “When the [four] forbidden months are over, wherever you encounter the idolaters, kill them, seize them, besiege them, wait for them at every lookout post” (9:5) in this way: “This noble verse is the sword verse that Dahākk b. Muzāhim said: it had abrogated all of the covenants (‘uhud) between the Messenger of God and each of the idolaters, all covenants and all [peace] periods.”33 He mentioned in his explanation of a hadith that the ‘second sword verse’ could be 9:29 in the war against the People of the Book, and the ‘third sword verse’ could be 9:73 and 66:9  in the war against hypocrites, and the ‘fourth sword verse’ could be 49:9 in the war against an oppressor (al-bāghī).34 It is not exaggeration to say that it is an exegesis of the Qur’an that you find in the home of most Sunni Muslims, and I myself found it in all the Sunni mosques that I visited across the globe. Imam Ibn Kathīr is the most popular Sunni exegete of the Qur’an. The Salafi Muslims believe in his tafsīr as the most authentic exegesis of the Qur’an. Based on his abrogation formula about liberal verses of the Qur’an there would be no room for tolerance, religious pluralism or religious freedom for the huge followers of Imam ibn Kathīr.

5.2.5  C  onditional Denial of Abrogation: The ‘Forgotten’ (insā’) Formula It does not mean that abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an is the consensus of Sunni scholars. Two well-known scholars of the sciences of the Qur’an did not accept it. Imam Badr ad-Dīn al-Zarkashī (745–794/1344–1392), the Shāfi’i author of the outstanding book on the Qur’anic sciences, wrote: The approach of many exegetes on the abrogation of lightening (al-takhfīf), or softening, verses by the sword verse is weak.35 Imam Jalāl ad-Dīn al-Suyūti (849–911/1445–1505), another Shāfi’i scholar of the Qur’anic sciences, followed him.36 Both of them denied the abrogation of lightening verses, after acknowledging that this was the approach of  Ibn Kathīr, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, Sāmi b. Muhammad al-Salāma, ed. (Riyadh: Dar Tayyiba, 1997) 4:112. 34  Ibid., 113. 35  Al-Zarkashī, al-Burhān fi ‘ulūm al-Qur’an, Muhammad Abu al-Fadl Ibrahim, ed. (Cairo: Maktaba Dār at-Turāth, 1984), 2:42. 36  Al-Suyūtī, Al-Itqān fi ‘Ulum al-Qur’an, Majma’ al-Dirāsāt al-Islāmiya, ed. (Medina: Majma’ Malik Fahd, 2005), 1438. 33

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

85

‘many exegetes’. This, however, does not mean that, according to az-Zarkashī or as-Suyūṭī, in the context of the sword verse and similar ones, we can refer to lightening or liberal verses, because they shifted from abrogation to another formula in the name of ‘making forgotten” (insā’). They got this formula from this verse: “Any revelation We cause to be abrogated or forgotten, We replace with something better or similar.” (2:106) Based on their explanation, the sword verse and similar ones made these lightening or liberal verses forgotten (munsa’). The difference between abrogation and forgotten formula is that the former makes these verses null forever, but the latter makes them null only in the context of sword verse and alike ones, not forever. In other words, forgotten formula is temporal and limited abrogation, in contrast to permanent abrogation. In the time of conflict and war, the liberal verses should be forgotten; that is, when the cause is over, we can refer to the lightening or liberal verses. So, it is not absolute denial of abrogation of liberal verses. It is only conditional denial for applying abrogating formula, but in the context of conflict and war the liberal verses practically would be abrogated absolutely.

5.2.6  T  he Second Argumentation on the Impossibility of Liberal Verses: ‘ikrāh’ Meanings In analyzing the verse 2:256, and in contrast with those who believe that this verse was abrogated with the verse “Prophet, strive against the disbelievers and the hypocrites, and be tough with them” (9:73), al-Sayyid Abu al-Qāsim al-Khū’ī (1317–1413/1899–1992)  – the most distinguished contemporary Shi‘ite jurist  – wrote the following: The fact is that the verse is precise and has not been abrogated, nor is it restrictive. This is so because the word ikrāh (compulsion), appears in the dictionary with two meanings: first, “that which stands exactly opposite to assent.” This is the sense in which the following revelation from God uses the word: “But it may happen that you hate (tukrihu) a thing which is good for you” (2:216). Second, [it means] “that which stands exactly opposite to choice.” This is the sense conveyed by God’s saying, 2His mother bears him with pain (kurhan), and brings him forth with pain” (46:15). The reason is that bearing a child and giving birth to it are tasks done willingly, but, at the same time, are beyond our willpower. The opinion that the verse has been abrogated, or that it is restricted, is contingent on the word ikrāh being used in the first sense.37

Al-Khū’ī made three arguments for his claim and concluded that the purport of ikrāh in the verse is opposite to choice. The sentence in the verse is a declarative sentence (khabariyya), not a creative one (inshā’iyya). The purpose of the verse is

 Al-Khū’ī, al-Bayān fi Tafsīr al-Qur’ān (Najaf: n.p., 1981), 307–308; Al-Khū’ī, The Prolegomena to the Qur’an, translated with an Introduction by Abdulaziz Sachedina (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), 205.

37

86

M. Kadivar

to explain one of the major Qur’anic principles ‘religion is not based on compulsion absolutely.’38 Al-Khū’ī concluded this way: Briefly stated, then, the purport of the verse is that God, the Exalted, does not coerce anyone to have faith or be obedient. But He clarifies the truth, making it distinct from error, and He has indeed done that. Therefore, anyone who believes in the truth believes of his own free will, and anyone who follows an error does so of his own volition. God-sanctified be He, although able to guide all humankind if He so desires- in His wisdom decided that they are not to be compelled in their actions after the truth has been made clear for them and has been made distinct from falsehood. Thus God, the Almighty, says: “Had God willed He could have made you one community. But … that He may try you by that which He has given you. So, vie one with another in good works. To God you shall all return, and He shall then inform you of that wherein you differ” (5:48). “Say: For God is the final argument; had He willed He could indeed have guided all of you” (6:149). “And the idolaters say: “Had God willed, we had not worshiped anything besides Him, we and our fathers, nor had we forbidden anything without [command from] Him. Even so did those before them. Are the messengers charged with nothing save plain conveyance [of the message]?” (16:35).39

I narrated this long quotation with its details because of its high importance. This is a strong argumentation on the impossibility of abrogation of 2:256 and alike ones. The meaning of the impossibility to be abrogated is that freedom of religion is an essential element of Islam. And this is a valuable conclusion. Al-Khū’ī expanded the principle of al-Ṭūsī on the impossibility of abrogation of declarative verses (ikhbāri) and elaborated it deeply by distinguishing between two different meanings of ‘ikrāh.’ He strengthened his argumentation with several principal verses of the Qur’an. Al-Khū’ī’s justification and elaboration prepares a very strong framework for religious pluralism, tolerance and religious freedom.

5.2.7  T  hird Argumentation on the Impossibility of Liberal Verses: Cause and Effect Allāmah al-Sayyid Muhammad Hussain al-Tabātabā’ī (1321–1402/1904–1981)  – the most distinguished contemporary Shi‘ite philosopher and exegete of the Qur’an – expressed this view in his interpretation of the same verse (2:256): This verse is not abrogated by sword verse (9:5) as it was said by someone. The evidence of that is not abrogated is causation of “true guidance has become distinct from error” (2:256). The ruling (the effect) remains as it was as long as the cause remains. It is obvious that the distinction of the true guidance (i.e. Islam) from error is impossible to be removed by the likes of the sword verse. “Kill the idolaters wherever you find them” or “fight in God’s cause” (2:190) do not impact the manifestation of the truth of religion at all to be able to abrogate a ruling that is its effect. In other words, the causation of the verse “There is no compulsion in religion” [2:256] in the manifestation of truth is a ‘meaning’ (ma‘nā) that

38 39

 Ibid, al-Bayān, 309; The Prolegomena, 206.  Ibid.

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

87

does not accept to change its disposition before revealing of the ruling of fighting (ḥukm al-qitāl) or after it. It is unchangeable in every situation, so it is not abrogated.40

It is another elaboration of the impossibility of abrogation of the 2:256 and alike ones through philosophical analysis of cause and effect. The wonderful conclusion of this strong Qur’anic and philosophical argument is the inseparability and essentiality of religious freedom in Islamic teachings. This is the strongest defense of the Qur’an and Islam and their consistency with religious pluralism. Al-Tabātabā’ī also rejected the abrogation of the verse “If any one of the idolaters should seek your protection [Prophet], grant it to him so that he may hear the word of God” (9:6) by “fight the idolaters at any time, if they first fight you” (9:36), arguing that the verse is strengthened and it does not accept abrogation.41 He strongly rejected abrogation of the verse of jizya (protection tax) (9:29) by 9:36, emphasizing that the former accepts neither specification (takhṣīṣ) nor restriction (taqyīd) by the latter.42 It is the second manifestation of the impossibility of abrogation of the lightening verses of the Qur’an.

5.2.8  T  he Fourth Argumentation on the Impossibility of Abrogation of Liberal Verses: Dīn and Sharāyi‘ In the interpretation of the verse “We have assigned a law and a path to each of you. If God had so willed, He would have made you one community, but He wanted to test you through that which He has given you” (5:48) al-Tabātabā’ī compared the relation between specific Sharāyi‘(plural of Shari‘a) and religion (dīn) with the relation between particular rulings and Islam itself, expressing that while divine religion (dīn) is only one in the name of submission to God (Islam), Sharāyi‘abrogate one another, the same as the abrogating and abrogated in Shari‘a rulings. So, the diversity is not in the divine religion that is one, but it is in the Sharāyi‘[i.e. the various religious divine rulings that come one after another (Judaic, Christian, Islamic Sharāyi‘/rulings)]. In the same way, abrogation does not concern Islam that is only one, but concerns the particular Sharāyi‘of the messengers of God, or specific rulings of other Sharāyi‘.43 There is only one divine religion that is submission to God in the name of Islam (in its general Qur’anic meaning), while there are several Sharāyi‘. Each messenger of God has specific Shari‘a. Although the elements of ‘one divine religion’ (Islam) does not accept abrogation absolutely, abrogation is a possible and familiar act in the field of Sharāyi‘. In other words, the liberal verses that were said to be abrogated  At-Tabātabā’ī, al-Mizan fi Tafsīr al-Qur’ān (Beirut: Mu’ssasa al-A’lami lil-Matbū’at, 1997), 2:348. 41  Ibid., 9:159–160. 42  Ibid., 9:279. 43  Ibid., 5:359. 40

88

M. Kadivar

are the essential elements of Islam, and the abrogating verses such as the sword verse are Shari‘a rulings. The Shari‘a rulings do not have this authority to abrogate any elements of the divine religion.

5.2.9  A  brogation of Liberal Verses Between Sunni and Shi‘ite Scholarship We can explore two opposite approaches on the abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an by the sword verses and alike ones among Muslim scholars. This is the outline of the comparison between the two approaches, i.e. the abrogation of liberal verses by the sword verse and alike ones, and the impossibility of the abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an: First, abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an by the sword verse and similar ones was established, continued and expanded by Sunni scholars. Almost all of the advocates of abrogation of such verses have been Sunni scholars. I am not familiar with any Shi‘ite scholars who support the abrogation of these verses. A few of Shi‘ite exegetes of the Qur’an, however, narrated the abrogation of some of these verses among the other approaches without confirming or rejecting them.44 Second, many Sunni scholars advocated strongly such abrogation. It is not clear whether the Sunni proponents of abrogation approach were in majority or not, but there is no evidence against the claim that opponents of that approach have been in minority. Third, while the names of many distinguished Sunni scholars such as al-Qurtubi and ibn Kathīr are among the advocates of abrogation of liberal verses in general (not only by sword verse), to my knowledge none of the major Shi‘ite scholars – not even one – advocated this idea, although they narrated the abrogation of these verses among other sayings. In addition, the most distinguished Shi‘ite exegetes such as al-Ṭūsī, al-Tabrasi, al-Khū’ī and al-Tabātabā’ī criticized it strongly and made strong arguments against it. Fourth, a new generation of modern Sunni scholars have advocated the freedom of religion and have not accepted abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an. According to the report of Muhammad Rashid Rida (1865–1935) in Tafsīr al-Manār, Muhammad ‘Abduh (1849–1905) the distinguished Egyptian thinker introduced “There is no compulsion in religion” [2:256] as a great Qur’anic principle. He did

 Fathullāh Kashāni (d. 988/1580) one the most known exegetes of the Qur’an in Persian could be an example; he narrated the opinion of Ibn ‘Abbās on abrogation of verse 2:256 among the other opinions without any judgment; (Kashāni, Manhaj as-Sādiqin fi Ilzām al-Mukhālifin (Tehran, ‘Ilmi publisher, 1954) 2:98. Kashāni had the same approach in his Arabic exegesis, Zubda al-Tafāsir (Qom: Mu’assisa al-Ma’ārif al-Islāmi, 2002) 1:408. Although Mullā Muhsin al-Fayd al-Kāshāni (d. 1058/1680) in his main exegetes of the Qur’an narrated the abrogation of 2:256 he clearly denied it (i.e. abrogation): al-Kāshāni, Tafsīr as-Sāfi, Hussain al-A’lami, ed. (Tehran: Maktaba asSadr, 2000) 1:284.

44

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

89

not accept abrogation of this verse and alike ones.45 But in his interpretation of sura 9 he advocated the ‘forgotten” (insā’) formula following al-Suyūti.46 One of the first contemporary Sunni scholars who advocated freedom of religion as an essential teaching of Islam, criticized abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an and published books on this subject was ‘Abdul-Muta’āl al-Sa’idi (1894–1966).47 And one of the first Sunni exegetes of the Qur’an who advocated clearly the freedom of religion and criticized the abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an was Muhammad ‘Izzat Darwaza (1887–1984) in al-Tafsīr al-Hadīth.48 Although the mainstream of Sunni scholarship still emphasizes abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an and does not accept freedom of religion,49 this aforementioned minority is in growth. I hope that in future I can mention more names of advocates of this approach and can find new arguments on the impossibility of abrogation of the liberal verses in Sunni scholarship, and this approach becomes the mainstream of Sunni Islam, and then we could claim with pleasure and honor that freedom of religion, tolerance and religious pluralism are among the essential elements of Islamic thought, and are endorsed by the mainstream of Islamic scholarship, both Sunni and Shi‘ite. Consequently, and considering the aforementioned points, I can conclude that Shi‘ite exegetes of the Qur’an raise less problems with pluralism, tolerance and freedom of religion and belief, and can support the idea of religious pluralism, better than their Sunni counterpart.

5.2.10  C  oncluding Remarks on the Abrogation of Liberal Verses We should not forget that the context of abrogation of liberal verses was the situation of intolerance in the world, a situation of domination of exclusivism, and violent exclusivism at times! In that situation religion was singular, not plural (religions)

 Muhammad Rachid Rida, Tafsīr al-Qur’ān al-Ḥakīm (Tafsīr al-Manār) (Cairo: Dār ul-Manār, 1948) 3:39. 46  Ibid., 10:199. 47  ‘Abdul-Muta’āl al-Sa’idi was professor of Arabic literature in al-Azhar university, and is the author of al-Ḥurriyya al-Dīniyya fī al-Islām (Religious Freedom in Islam) [1955], intr., ‘Ismat Nassār (Cairo, Dar al-Kutub wa al-Wathā’iq al-Qaumiyya, 2009); and Hurriyyat al-Fikr fil-Islam (Freedom of thought in Islam) [1957], intr., Muhammad Sābir ‘Arab (Cairo, Dar al-Kutub wa al-Wathā’iq al-Qaumiyya, 2009). 48  Muhammad ‘Izzat Darwaza (Palestinian politician, historian and educator), at-Tafsīr al-Hadīth (New Exegesis) [1961] (Cairo: Dar Ihyā al-Kutub al-‘Arabiyya, 2000) 2:27–40 and 6:472. 49  Al-Azhar University did not publish the response of Abdul-Muta’āl al-Sa’idi to the critique of ‘Isā Manūn (d. 1957), professor of jurisprudence in al-Azhar on the defense of execution of the apostate! Al-Sa’idi explained the story in the introduction of his book al-Ḥurriyya al-Dīniyya fī al-Islām (Religious Freedom in Islam) in 1957 and criticized deeply the close-minded administration of al-Azhar exactly on the lack of religious freedom. 45

90

M. Kadivar

in Christianity, (one example could be the works of St. Augustine)50 and in the time of Crusade wars. At that time, the Muslims were in power, and this violent interpretation was the fruit of authoritative and theocratic superpower. We can find the parallel of this aggressive approach (and even harsher than this) among medieval Christians and ancient Jews. Two major questions could still be posed. First, was this ugly perspective the understanding of the past scholars or is it really the content of the Qur’an and Sunna? Second, does this perspective belong to the past or is it essential to Islam, the Qur’an and the Sunna? A fundamentalist adoption of abrogation approach is absolutely a misunderstanding, a misreading, and a reading of the divine text out of its context, and is far from being the ultimate goal of Islam and the spirit of the Qur’an. Expanding this point and discussing it in further details are beyond the capacity of this chapter. Although the issue of liberal verses of the Qur’an is one of the major elements of Islamic argumentation in support of religious pluralism, religious freedom and tolerance, and their abrogation is the main obstacle in this way, there are other effective issues here. In other words, the lack of abrogation of these verses is the necessary condition for achieving religious pluralism, religious freedom and tolerance, but it is not the sufficient condition. It means that we need several necessary conditions in addition to this one. For example, there were some scholars that did not support abrogation, but they justified the compulsion of true religion! According to this approach Islam condemned only compulsion on false religion, so compulsion of true religion (i.e. Islam) is not only permitted, but also required!51 What has been discussed in this section is that Sunni scholarship has more trouble for supporting religious pluralism, religious freedom and tolerance than its Shi‘ite counterpart in the case of abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an by so called sword verse. Discussing other necessary aspects of religious pluralism, religious freedom and tolerance both in Sunni and Shi‘ite scholarships is beyond the capacity of this chapter.

5.3  S  ection 2: The Teachings of ‘Ali bin abi Tālib, a Rich Source of Political Ethics The Prophetic tradition is the common ground for Sunnis and Shi‘ites. It is like the Qur’an in our discussion. The traditionalists and exclusivists highlight and misinterpret it in support of their ideas. I focus on the tradition of ‘Ali b. Tālib, the fourth calif for the Sunnis and the first Imām for the Shi‘ites. I think his teachings are rich  Augustine, Of True Religion [390 C.E.] (Washington, D.C.: Regnery Gateway; Lanham, MD: Distributed by National Book Network, 1991). 51  Ibn al-‘Arabi, Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn ‘Abdullah (1165–1240), Ahkām al-Qur’an (the rulings of the Qur’an), Muhammad ‘Abdul-Qādir ‘Atā, ed. (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 2002) 1:310–311. 50

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

91

in support of tolerance, freedom of religion and belief, and pluralism, and in general a good treasury of Islamic political ethics. 1. I mention a few examples from Nahj al-Balāgha that was compiled by ash-Sharif ar-Radi Muhammad ibn al-Husain al-Musawi (359–406/970–1015), especially from his letter to Mālik al-Ashtar al-Nakha‘ī (d. 38/658), ‘Ali’s governor in Egypt. ‘Islamic egalitarianism’ is based on this brilliant hadith of Imām ‘Ali: “The people are of two kinds, either your brother in religion, or one like you in creation.”52 It is the foundation for an egalitarian perspective for pluralism. The non-Muslims are human beings as the Muslims. We should deal with them under ethical standards, such as justice and fairness. 2. In the time of Imam ‘Ali, the horsemen of Muslims army reached the city of al-Anbār, and killed someone and among what they have done that was reported was a story of looting, to which ‘Ali replied as follows: “I have come to know that one of them entered upon a Muslim woman and non-Muslim woman (mu’āhad), under the protection of Islam, and took away their ornaments from legs, arms, necks and ears and no woman could resist it except by istirjā’ [pronouncing the verse “We are for Allah and to Him we shall return” (2:156)], or request of mercy. Then they got back laden with wealth without any wound or loss of life. If any Muslim dies of grief after all this he is not to be blamed but rather there is justification for him before me.”53 ‘Ali expressed his high distress because of this unfortunate event for two women, one of them was non-Muslim. This hadith demonstrates the complete responsibility of the Muslim ruler for the security, safety and property of all citizens regardless of their gender and religion. This is the reaction of the successor of the Messenger of God to injustice and oppression that happened for a non-Muslim lady under protection of Islam that could be compared with modern equal citizenship. His concern was not only for Muslims but also for all people, irrespective of their faith. 3. A poor old man was begging. ‘Ali asked about him critically: what is it? He was told that he is a Christian. ‘Ali answered: You took him as labor until he became old and disable to work. Pay him from treasury.54 It means that in his administration there was no difference between a Muslim and non-Muslim in social security. 4. Imām Ibn Kathīr and Imām ‘Ali ‘Izz al-Dìn Ibn al-Athīr al-Jazarī (555–630/1160–1233) narrated this historical event: ‘Ali in the time of his caliphate found his missed shield in the hand of a Christian. He complained to the court. The judge asked ‘Ali to give his evidence. He did not have one, so the judge did not confirm the claim of ‘Ali. The caliph, did not use his power against the Christian subject, and accepted the judgment of the court. The Christian

 Muhammad ibn al-Hassan al-Mūsawi al-Radi, Nahj al-Balāgha, Subhi Salih, ed. (Beirut: Dar al-Kitab al-Lubnani, 2004) letter 53, 427. 53  Ibid., sermon 27, 69–70. 54  At-Tūsi, Tahdhīb al-Aḥkām, Ali Akbar al-Ghaffārī, ed. (Tehran: Maktaba as-Sadūq, 2006) 6:292. 52

92

M. Kadivar

knew the shield belonged to ‘Ali, went to him, told him the truth and converted to Islam, and participated in the fight against the Kharijites.55 5. Ibrahim ibn Muhammad al-Thaqafī al-Kūfī (d. 283–896) narrated: There was an adultery between a Muslim man and a Christian woman in Egypt. Muhammad b. Abi Bakr, ‘Ali’s governor there, asked ‘Ali about its ruling in Shari‘a. He answered: “Punish the Muslin man according to Shari‘a, and send the Christian woman to her community to be judged according to her tradition.”56 This is the manifestation of pluralism, fairness, justice and egalitarianism in Shari‘a. These are examples of political ethics in the time of ‘Ali’s caliphate. It is clear that it has high capacity for tolerance. I am sure we can find more evidence in ‘Ali’s administration as well as the administration of the Prophet and his successors on support of religious pluralism.

5.4  Section 3: Reason (‘aql) – The Foundation of Pluralism Reason is the foundation of pluralism. The more rationalist, the more pluralist. The fourth source of Islamic knowledge is reason (‘aql) from Shi‘a perspective. Compared with the Ash‘arites, Maturidis and Hanbalites, the position of ‘reason’ in Shi‘ite kalām and fiqh is stronger. The only Sunni competitors with Shi‘ites in what regards the position of rationality and ‘good and evil’ (al-husn wa al-qubḥ) were the Mu‘tazilites. But they, the Mu‘tazilites, were banned around 3th H/10th AD century for two issues: first, their political abuse of theology in politics. Imprisoning or torturing the critics of createdness of the Qur’an in the period of ordeal (miḥna) is the most important reason for the popular public reaction against them. The second issue was their radicalism in the case of relation between reason and revelation. The Sunni mentality could not tolerate the radical rationalistic approach of the Mu‘tazilites. Of course, Ash‘arites and Māturidis are relatively more rational than Hanbalites and the people of Hadith. The distinguished Ash‘arite theologian al-Ghazālī (450-505-1058-1111) accepted logic while criticizing and denying philosophy, but the distinguished Hanbalite theologian Ibn Taymiyya (661-728-1263-1328) rejected both. Shi‘ites are in between radical Mu‘tazilites, on the one side, and Ash‘arites and Maturidis, on the other side. The mainstream of Shi‘ites accepted both logic and philosophy, so their theology is more rationalistic than its Sunnis counterpart. A good example of consistency of Islamic teachings with rational sciences (both logic and philosophy) is Nasīr ad-Dīn al-Ṭūsī (597-672-1201-1274) and his Tajrīd al-i‘tiqād, which is one of the highest in the

 Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya wa al-Nihāya (The Beginning and the End) (Beirut: Maktaba al-Ma’ārif, 1992) 8:4–5; and Ibn al-Athir, al-Kāmīl fī al-Tārīkh, Abi al-Fidā’ Abdullah al-Qādi, ed. (Riyadh: Dar Tayyiba, 1997), 2:750. 56  Al-Thaqafī, al-Ghārāt, Mir Jalāl ad-Din Hussaini Irmawi, ed. (Tehran: Anjuman Athār Milli, 1977), 1:230–231. 55

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

93

ranking of scholarly works in the intellectual history of Islam in the number of commentaries and glosses, and many of the commentators were Sunni theologians.57 I explain briefly three points in this case. First, the rational goodness and ugliness are the foundation of philosophy of ethics, philosophy of law, rational theology and methodology of jurisprudence (fiqh). The important principle is concomitance/correlation of reason and Shari‘a: whatever reason rules, Shari‘a rules too, and vice versa. Although the domain of validity of this principle is restricted to a certain definite reason (al-‘aql al-qaṭ‘ī) but its achievements are so productive and helpful. It is a fruitful bridge between revelation and reason, between narration and intellect, and between textual tradition and rational modernity.58 Second, if there is any conflict between reason and religion, or between reason and revelation, what should we do? The ‘Ah’arite, Māturidi, Hanbalite and Akhbari Shi‘ite position is clear: We should always prefer religion, revelation and tradition and give our back to reason. But Usūli Shi‘ites classified the situations of such a conflict. They clarify that both sides could be certain, definite or suspicion, assumption, conjecture, or uncertain indications. The certain rational indication may not conflict the certain religious indication. But in the conflict of certain indication and assumptive indication we should follow the certain indication regardless of whether it is rational or religious. So, in the conflict between certain rational reason and the prima-facie meaning (dāhir) of revelation or tradition, we should interpret the religious indication in the context of rational reason. It is exactly what we learn from modern hermeneutics too. Most of the textual indications are not explicit univocal textual meanings (nass) and most of the hadith are non-mutawātir (al-akhbār al-āḥād). Because of these two reasons high majority of textual indications are uncertain and open to interpretation.59 Third, justice is the most important achievement of rational approach. Justice is a priori concept. It is not defined by religion or revelation. Religion ought to be just, not justice ought to be religious! It is the famous controversial debate in early Islam: God ought to be just. So, the Mu‘tazilites and Shi‘ites called themselves al-‘Adliyya “the people of justice.” It is impossible to believe in any injustice in the name of Shari‘a or religion. If something is unjust according to certain rational indications, it is not accepted to believe it as a correct and valid religious indication. Justice is a strong concept in Islamic teachings. Its meaning should be understood adequately.60

 Such as Ali ibn Muhammed Qushji (805–879/1403–1474).  See my article applying this methodology: “Revisiting Women’s Rights in Islam: ‘Egalitarian Justice’ in lieu of ‘Deserts-based Justice’,” in Ziba Mir-Hosseini, Lena Larsen, Christian Moe, and Kari Vogt, eds. Gender and Equality in Muslim Family Law: Justice and Ethics in the Islamic Legal Tradition (London: I B Tauris, 2013), 213–234. 59  See my article: “From Traditional Islam to Islam as an end in itself,” Die Welt des Islams International [Journal for the Study of Modern Islam] No. 51, 2011a, 459–484. 60  See my article applying this methodology: Kadivar, “Human Rights and Intellectual Islam,” in Kari Vogt, Lena Larsen & Christian Moe, eds., New Directions in Islamic Thought: Exploring Reform and Muslim Tradition (London: IB Tauris, 2009), 47–74. 57 58

94

M. Kadivar

This rational approach opens the ground for diversity and pluralism. Shi‘i Islam has evident capacity and potentiality for accepting pluralism. Two approaches of Sunni reformists, I mean neo-Mutazilites (revisiting the Mu’tazila tradition in the modern time)61 or the ‘people of Maqhāsid of Shari‘a’ (those who believe in non-­ textual goals of Islam), are good supporters of pluralism too. Tolerating pluralism requires rational theology and modern hermeneutics for revisiting textual indications.

5.5  Conclusion Shi‘a Islam has a large potentiality and capacity for supporting religious pluralism, diversity, tolerance and freedom. There are at least three evidences for proving this claim. The first one is the lack of abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an in this denomination. Abrogation of these verses by so called sword verse is a big obstacle of proving religious pluralism, diversity, tolerance and freedom in Islamic teaching. This obstacle does not exist in Shi‘a Islam, and this has been shown in four major points. First, the most distinguished Shi‘a scholars since the eleventh century (al-Ṭūsī, al-Tabrasi, al-Tabātabā’ī, and al-Khū’ī) offered four different arguments on the “impossibility of abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an” (declarative verses, ikrāh (compulsion) meanings, cause and effect, and dīn and Sharāyi‘). No Shi‘a scholars supported abrogation of liberal verses of the Qur’an. Since the twentieth century a new generation of Sunni scholars have rejected the abrogation of liberal verses and supported religious freedom and pluralism, but the mainstream of Sunni scholarship still maintain a traditional position. The second evidence is the teachings of ‘Ali Ibn Abi Tālib as a good source of building ‘Islamic egalitarianism.’ The first (of five examples) is “The people are of two kinds, either your brother in religion or one like you in creation.” The third evidence is rationality as the foundation of the modern notion of religious pluralism, diversity, tolerance and freedom, i.e. the rational goodness and ugliness, the conflict between textual teachings (scripture and tradition) and rational teachings, and finally justice as the eternal criteria of Shari‘a and Islamic sciences.

References English Abdel Haleem, Muhammad A.  S. 2005. The Qur’an, A new translation. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

 Such as Muhammad ‘Abduh (1849–1905), Fazlur Rahman (1919–1988), and Nasr Abu Zayd (1943–2010).

61

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

95

Al-Hilli, Hasan B.  Yusuf. 1958. Al-Babu l-Hadi ‘Ashar (A treatise on the Principles of Shi‘ite Theology), with commentary by Miqdad-i-Fadil al-Hilli, trans. William McElwee Miller. London: Royal Asiatic Soc. Al-Khū’ī, al-Sayyid Abu al-Qāsim. 1998. The Prolegomena to the Qur’an. Trans. Abdulaziz A. Sachedina. New York: Oxford University Press. Al-Ṭabarī, Muhammad b. Jarir. 1990. The History of al-Ṭabarī. Vol. 19: The Caliphate of Yazid ibn Mu’awiyah. Trans. I.K.A. Howard. Albany: SUNY. Al-Ṭabarī, Muhammad b. Jarir. 1996. The History of al-Ṭabarī. Vol. 17: The First Civil War. Trans. G.R. Hawting. Albany: SUNY. Al-Ṭabarī, Muhammad b. Jarir. 1997. The History of al-Ṭabarī. Vol. 16: The Community Divided. Trans. Adrian Brockett. Albany: SUNY. Al-Tabātabā’ī, Sayyed Muhammad Husayn. 1977. Shi‘ite Islam. Trans. Seyyed Hossein Nasr. New York: State University of New York. Augustine, of Hippo Saint. 1991. Of True Religion. Washington, DC/Lanham: Regnery Gateway/ Distributed by National Book Network. Ayoub, Mahmoud M. 1978. Redemptive suffering in Islam. A study of the devotional aspects of ‘Ashūrā in Twelver Shiʿism. New York: Mouton Publisher. ———. 2003. The Crises of Muslim History: Religion and Politics in Early Islam. Oxford: Oneworld. Basinger, David. 2015. Religious Diversity (Pluralism). In Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Accessed 07/05/2018. Beneke, Chris. 2006. Beyond Toleration: The Religious Origins of American Pluralism. New York: Oxford University Press. Eck, Diana L. 2006. What is Pluralism? The Pluralism Project. Harvard University. http://pluralism.org/what-­is-­pluralism/. 07/05/2018. Fatoohi, Louay. 2013. Abrogation in the Qurʾan and Islamic Law: A Critical Study of the Concept of “Naskh” and its Impact. New York: Routledge. Hazleton, Lesley. 2010. After the Prophet: The Epic Story of the Shi‘a-Sunni Split in Islam. New York: Anchor Books. Hick, John. 1989. An Interpretation of Religion: Human Responses to the Transcendent. New Haven: Yale University Press. Kadivar, Mohsen. 2006. Freedom of Religion and Belief in Islam. In The New Voices of Islam: Reforming Politics and Modernity – A Reader, ed. Mehran Kamrava. London: I. B. Tauris. ———. 2009. Human Rights and Intellectual Islam. In New Directions in Islamic Thought: Exploring Reform and Muslim Tradition, ed. Kari Vogt, Lena Larsen, and Christian Moe. London: IB Tauris. ———. 2011a. From Traditional Islam to Islam as an end in itself. Die Welt des Islams [Journal for the Study of Modern Islam] 51: 459–484. ———. 2013. Revisiting Women’s Rights in Islam: ‘Egalitarian Justice’ in lieu of ‘Deserts-based Justice. In Gender and Equality in Muslim Family Law: Justice and Ethics in the Islamic Legal Tradition, ed. Ziba Mir-Hosseini, Lena Larsen, Christian Moe, and Kari Vogt, 213–236. London: I B Tauris. Madelung, Wilfred F. 1997. The Succession to Muhammad. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Modarressi, Hossein. 1993. Crisis and Consolidation in the Formative Period of Shi‘ite Islam. Princeton: Darwin Press. Muzaffar, Muhammad Rida. 1989. The Faith of Shi‘i Islam. London: Muhammadi Trust. Nasr, Seyyed Hossein. 2000. Ideals and Realities of Islam. Chicago: ABC International Group, Inc. Pew Research Center. 2012. The World’s Muslims: Unity and Diversity. August 9. https://www. pewforum.org/2012/08/09/the-­worlds-­muslims-­unity-­and-­diversity-­executive-­summary/ Sobhani, Ja’far. 2001. Doctrines of Shi‘i Islam (A Compendium of Imāmi Beliefs and Practices). Trans. Reza Shah-Kazemi. London I.B. Tauris.

96

M. Kadivar

Arabic Al-Baghawi, al-Hussain b. al-Mas’ūd. 1988. Ma’ālim al-Tanzil, Muhammad ‘Abdullah b. Ed. al-­ Namir and others. Riyadh: n.h. Al-Fayd al-Kāshāni, Mullā Muhsin. 2000. Tafsīr as-Sāfi. Ed. Hussain al-A’lami. Tehran: Maktaba as-Sadr. Al-Khū’ī, al-Sayyid Abu al-Qāsim. 1981. Al-Bayān fi Tafsīr al-Qur’ān. Najaf: n.p. Al-Minqarī, Nasr ibn al-Muzāhim. 1962. Waq‘at Ṣiffīn. Ed. ‘Abdul-Salām Muhammad Hārun. Cairo: al-Mu’ssasa al-‘Arabiyy al-Haditha. Al-Mufid, Muhammad ibn Muhammad. 1993. Awā’il al Maqālāt fi al-Madhāhib wa al-Mukhtarah (Principal theses of selected doctrines). Ed. Ibrahim Ansāri Zanjāni. Vol. 4. Qom: Mussanafāt al-Shaykh al-Mufid. ———. 2010. Al-Jamal wa al-Nusrah li Sayyid al-‘Itrah fi Harb al-Basrah. Ed. ‘Ali Mir-Saarifi. Vol. 2. Qom: Mawsu’ah al-Shaykh al-Mufid. Al-Qurtubi. 2006. Tafsīr al-Jami’ li ahkām al-Qur’ān. Ed. ‘Abdullah b. ‘Abdul-Muhsin al-Turki. Beirut: al-Resalah. Al-Radi, Muhammad ibn al-Hassan al-Mūsawi. 2004. Nahj al-Balāgha. Ed. Subhi Salih. Beirut: Dar al-Kitab al-Lubnani. Al-Sa’idi, ‘Abdul-Muta’āl. 2009. Hurriyya al-Fikr fil-Islam (Freedom of thought in Islam), with introduction of Muhammad Sābir ‘Arab. Cairo: Dar al-Kutub wa al-Wathā’iq al-Qaumiyya. ———. 2012. Al-Ḥurriyya al-Dīniyya fī al-Islām (Religious Freedom in Islam), with introduction of ‘Ismat Nassār. Cairo: Dar al-Kitab al-Masri. Al-Shawkānī, Muhammad b. Ali. 2007. Fath al-Qadīr al-jāmi’ bain fannayi ar-rawaya wad-diraya min ‘ilm al-Tafsīr. Ed. Yusif al-Ghūsh. Beirut: Dar-al-Ma’rifa. Al-Suyūtī. 2005. Al-Itqān fi ‘Ulum al-Qur’an. Ed. Majma’ al-Dirāsāt al-Islāmiya. Medina: Majma’ Malik Fahd. Al-Thaqafī, Ibrahim d. Muhammad al-Kūfī. 1977. Al-Ghārāt. Ed. Mir Jalāl ad-Din Hussaini Irmawi. Tehran: Anjuman Athār Milli. Al-Ṭabarī, Muhammad b. Jarir. 1983. Tārīkh al-Rusul wa al-Mulūk. Vols. 4 & 5. Ed. Muhammad Abu al-Fadl. Cairo: Dar al-Ma’ārif. Al-Tabātabā’ī, Muhammad Hussain. 1997. Al-Mizan fi Tafsīr al-Qur’ān. Beirut: Mu’ssasa al-­ A’lami lil-Matbū’at. Al-Tabrasi, al-Fadl ibn al-Hassan. 2005. Majma‘ al-Bayān fī Tafsīr al-Qur’ān. Beirut: Dar al-‘Ulūm. Al-Ṭūsī, Muhammad b. al-Hassan. 2006. Tahdhīb al-Aḥkām. Ed. Ali Akbar al-Ghaffārī. Tehran, Maktaba as-Sadūq. ———. 2010. Al-Tibyān fi Tafsīr al-Qur’ān. Ed. Aḥmad Ḥabīb Qaṣīr ʻĀmilī. Beirut: Dar Ihyā’ al-Turath al-‘Arabi. Al-Ṭūsī, Naṣīr-al-Dīn. 1986. Tajrīd al-Iʿtiqād (Outline of Belief). Ed. Moḥammad-Jawād al-­ Hussaini al-Jalāli. [Qom]: Maktab al-I’lām al-Islāmi. Al-Zarkashī, Badr ad-Dīn Muhammad b. ‘Abdullah. 1984. Al-Burhān fi ‘ulūm al-Qur’an. Ed. Muhammad Abu al-Fadl Ibrahim. Cairo: Maktaba Dār al-Turāth. Ibn al-‘Arabi, Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn ‘Abdullah. 2002. Ahkām al-Qur’an (the rulings of the Qur’an). Ed. Muhammad ‘Abdul-Qādir ‘Atā. Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya. Ibn al-Athir, ‘Izz ad-Din ‘Ali b. Muhammad. 1987. Al-Kāmīl fī al-Tārīkh. Ed. Abi al-Fidā’ Abdullah al-Qādi. Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya. Ibn Kathīr, Ismā’il b. ‘Ali. 1992. Al-Bidāya wa al-Nihāya (The Beginning and the End). Beirut: Maktaba al-Ma’ārif. ———. 1997. Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, Sāmi b. Ed. Muhammad al-Salāma. Riyadh: Dar Tayyiba. Darwaza, Muhammad ‘Izzat. 2000. Al-Tafsīr al-Hadīth (New Exegesis) [1957]. Cairo: Dar Ihyā al-Kutub al-‘Arabiyya. Kadivar, Mohsen. 2011b. Al-Qira’at al-Mansiyya: I’āda qirā’a nazaryah al-a’ima al-ithnā ‘ashar ‘ulama’ al-abrar wa arba’a maqālat ukhrā (The Forgotten Reading: Revisiting the Theory of

5  Genealogies of Pluralism in Islamic Thought: Shi‘a Perspective

97

Twelve Imams as ‘Virtuous Scholars’, and Four Other Articles). Trans. Sa’d Rustam. Beirut: Mu’assisa al-Intishār al-‘Arabī. Kashāni, Fathullāh. 2002. Zubda al-Tafāsir. Qom: Mu’assisa al-Ma’ārif al-Islāmi. Rida, Muhammad Rashid. 1948. Tafsīr al-Qur’ān al-Hakīm (Tafsīr al-Manār). Dār ul-Manār: Cairo. Zayd, Mustafa. 1987. Al-Naskh fi al-Qur’an al-Karim, dirāsah tashri’iyah, tārikhiyah, naqdiya (The Abrogation in the Qur’an: a legal, historical and critical study). Dār al-Wafā: Cairo.

Persian Kashāni, Fathullāh. 1954. Manhaj as-Sādiqin fi Ilzām al-Mukhālifin. Tehran: ‘Ilmi Publisher.

Chapter 6

Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One of Islam’s Formative Episodes Abdelwahab El-Affendi

Abstract  The episode of Taḥkīm (arbitration) between the two warring camps in Islam’s first civil war (between supporters of the fourth Caliph, ‘Ali ibn Abī Ṭālib, on the one side, and those of his challenger Mu‘āwiya ibn Abī Sufyān, on the other) is one of the most notorious in Islamic history. In this chapter, we propose a reconsideration of the episode as a brief bright moment in Islamic history, which could offer guidance even today. It was a brief moment when Muslims agreed, for the first time, on explicit principles for managing public affairs and resolving political disputes. Interestingly, while agreeing on the Qur’an as the firm ground on which to base all judgments, the warring parties also acknowledged, as the final arbiter in resolving differences on the interpretation of the Qur’an and Sunna, consensus by the majority as it crystallizes through public debate and uncoerced consultation. This highlights the fact that Taḥkīm has been, in fact, a point of consensus and clarity, rather than of dissent and chaos. It was, instead, failure to adhere to the principles agreed upon that was the problem, not the principles themselves. This new look should therefore cast that episode as a fleeting bright spot in Muslim political practice, which could be built on to guide and enlighten current democratic aspirations. Keywords  Arbitration · Taḥkīm · Caliph · ‘Ali · Mu‘āwiya · Siffin · Bright moment in Islamic political history

A. El-Affendi (*) Doha Institute for Graduate Studies, Doha, Qatar e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_6

99

100

A. El-Affendi

6.1  Introduction The episode of Taḥkīm (arbitration) between the two warring camps in Islam’s first civil war (between supporters of the fourth Caliph, ‘Ali ibn Abī Ṭālib, on the one side, and those of his challenger Mu‘āwiya ibn Abī Sufyān, on the other) is one of the most notorious in Islamic history. It refers to the agreement between the two sides to resolve the dispute through arbitration, rather than through armed conflict. The episode put into focus the shared values within the early Muslim community with regards to resolving political conflict through appeal to core Islamic principles. It also marked the crystallization of major political factions, which later turned into religious sects. Following the emergence of the first extremist Islamic sect, the Khawārij (insurgents, rebels), also known as Muḥakkima,1 the rest of the community aligned itself in opposition to them. For the Khawārij, Taḥkīm was the ultimate sacrilege, since it vested men with an authority that was only God’s exclusive prerogative. The shi‘a (party) of ‘Ali emerged as a burgeoning political entity at that time, crystallizing only much later as the Shi‘a, the religious school/sect standing apart from the residual majority. Another tendency, named as Murji‘a (those in favour of ‘deferral’), opposed the Khawārij’s core tenet of declaring any ‘major sinner’ an unbeliever, preferring to withhold judgement on people, leaving it to God. The Mu’tazila tried to stake a middle road, refusing to call the major sinner unbeliever or believer, saying that he occupies a position ‘in-between’. However, in opposition to the quietism of the Murji‘a, they adopted an activist position, holding that a Muslim should actively encourage virtue and oppose deviation or munkar (what is reprehensible).2 The rest of the mainstream community, (later labelled the Sunna, or followers of the Prophet’s way), defined themselves by being none of the above, claiming to follow, instead, the pre-schism tradition of the early united Muslim community. While all other factions rejected the Khawārij’s labelling of the Taḥkīm agreement as kufr and sacrilege, almost no one regarded it positively. For many, it was a fiasco that has exacerbated the conflict and divisions, and at least failed in resolving the main problem. It was the highlight of the fitna (ordeal, period of dissent and uncertainty) and the first step in enduring religious divisions that plague the Umma to this day. Therefore, the episode is usually mentioned only to be condemned and deplored. In this chapter, we propose a reconsideration of the episode as, to the contrary, a brief bright moment in Islamic history, which could offer guidance even today. It was a brief moment when Muslims agreed, for the first time, on explicit principles for managing public affairs and resolving political disputes. Interestingly, while

1  Ironically, it sounds from the label that they are proponents of Taḥkīm, but it was anathema to them. 2  Ahmed Amin, Fajr Al-Islam, Cairo: Hindawi Corporation, 2102, pp. 273–325; see also Josef Van Ess, The Flowering of Muslim Theology (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006); Racha el-Omari, ‘The Muʿtazilite Movement (I): The Origins of the Muʿtazila’, in The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Theology, ed. Sabine Schmidtke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016) 130–140.

6  Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One…

101

agreeing on the Qur’an as the firm ground on which to base all judgments, the warring parties also acknowledged, as the final arbiter in resolving differences on the interpretation of the Qur’an and Sunna, consensus by the majority as it crystallizes through public debate and uncoerced consultation. This highlights the fact that Taḥkīm has been, in fact, a point of consensus and clarity, rather than of dissent and chaos. It was, instead, failure to adhere to the principles agreed upon that was the problem, not the principles themselves. This new look should therefore cast that episode as a fleeting bright spot in Muslim political practice, which could be built on to guide and enlighten current democratic aspirations.

6.2  Background The crisis in question was provoked by the murder of the Third Caliph, ʻUthmān ibn ‘Affān, in the last month of AH35 (June 656 CE). The episode was extremely traumatic for the Muslim community, involving as it did the virtual occupation of Medina, Islam’s second holiest city and the capital of the Caliphate, by armed dissidents. Medina was a sacred city, where fighting and bearing of arms are outlawed, just as in Mecca. Worse still, the attack took place during the month of Dhu al-Hijja, one of four haram (sacred) months, when all fighting was outlawed, even against unbelievers. The insurgents, around two thousand protesters from the provinces of Egypt, Kufa and Basra (both in today’s Iraq), had a puritan agenda, and a sense of (misguided) political idealism. They were aggrieved and incensed by what they saw as ʻUthmān’s deviation from the norms of governance set out by the two first Caliphs. Their misgivings included complaints against favoritism by ʻUthmān towards his relatives, and the unfair conduct of some of his governors, many of whom were also relatives. The rebels did have some sympathizers in Medina, and the murder occurred following a siege of ʻUthmān’s home for over a month, when at times his household was even deprived of water.3 The murder and accompanying mayhem cast a long shadow on the inauguration of ‘Ali’s caliphate, which started a few days after the tragedy. The rebels were still in control of Medina when he was declared Caliph. One of them continued to lead the prayers in the Prophet’s Mosque, which is the prerogative of the Caliph. However, the rebels had barred ʻUthmān from the Mosque, replacing with their own candidate from the time he was besieged in his home during the last weeks of his life. According to several reports, it was the rebels who had nominated ‘Ali for the caliphate and initiated the procedures of confirming him. ‘Ali rebuffed their offer at first, as did at least three other candidates (al-Zubayr, Ṭalḥa and Ibn Omar).

3  Ibn Kathīr, Al-Bidāya wa al-Nihāya, Vol 7 (Beirut: Maktabat al-Maarif, 1992) 170–192. See also: Hichem Djait, Al-Fitna: Jadaliyyat al-dīn wa al-Siyāssa fī al-Islām al-Mubakkir, 4th ed., trans., Khalil Ahmed Khalil (Beirut: Dar Al-Tali’a, 2000) 74–105; Ahmed Amin, Fajr al-Islām (Cairo: Hindawi Corporation, 2011) 277–327.

102

A. El-Affendi

They were all members of the council of ‘six plus one’4 designated by Caliph ‘Umar on his death-bed as potential successors and electors of the next Caliph.5 ‘Ali continued to remind his audience in his speeches of his reluctance to assume the caliphate, citing the insistence of key figures in Medina in urging him to assume responsibility to avert chaos.6 A few key figures resident in Medina refused to formally endorse ‘Ali’s caliphate, but did not voice outright opposition. (‘Ali was seen as sympathetic to the dissidents, as he himself was a critic of ʻUthmān). However, key regions, including the sprawling province of Syria under Mu‘āwiya’s rule, were more openly hostile. ‘Ali refused pleas from his close advisers to leave sitting governors, including Mu‘āwiya, in place until his rule is stabilized. However, he was adamant on change, appointing new governors for the key Iraqi provinces of Kufa and Basra, as well as Egypt. But he was not able to send his appointed governor to Syria (Ibn Abbas), due to open armed resistance.7 Later on, two key possible allies, Talha and Zubayr, left for Mecca, which remained a sanctuary for many ‘neutrals’, even though it had a governor appointed by ‘Ali. There, they managed to persuade the Prophet’s widow, ‘Āisha, to accompany them to Basra, where they attempted to set up a rival centre of power, independent from both ‘Ali and Mu‘āwiya. They succeeded in evicting ‘Ali’s governor and taking over the city, thus diverting the Caliph from his major confrontation with Mu‘āwiya. He found difficulty in convincing the neighbouring Kufa to join him in confronting the new rebels, since his governor there, Abū Mūsā al-Ash‘arī, was lukewarm towards his call to arms. ‘Ali had to send many powerful men to plead his case. However, only after joining them himself and sacking al-Ash‘arī, did he finally succeed in convincing the Kufans to join his army.8 By then nascent parties were beginning to coalesce around loose agendas. The key group that took centre-stage consisted of the militants who confronted ʻUthmān, and eventually murdered him. One could designate those ‘puritan’ militants as ‘proto-Islamists’, although authors like Ibn Kathīr were already calling them Khawārij. This group became the most influential contingent in ‘Ali’s army, and were practically driving policy. Their militancy alienated many in the mainstream, including potential allies of ‘Ali, like the Basra trio, and the bulk of conservatives. A rising tide of opinion wanted to put an end to this militancy, unhappy about what they saw as ‘uncivilized’ conduct of this group of ‘ruffians’.9 The Basra Group represented this view, and wanted to confront the militants, put an end to their hegemony in Medina, and bring the killers of ʻUthmān to justice. But they were not ready to join Mu‘āwiya, who was championing the same cause of reigning in the  Omar’s son, Abdullāhi, was a member, but not a candidate himself.  Ibn-Kathīr, op. cit. 227–29; see also: Abbas Mahmoud El-Aqqad, ‘Abqariyyat al-Imām ‘Ali (Cairo: Hindawi Corportation, 2012) 51. 6  Muhammad B.  Majlisi, Bihār al-Anwār, Vol. 8, Part 2 (Qum: Ihya al-Kutub al-Islamiyyah, c. 2009) 3–4. 7  Ibn-Kathīr, op. cit., 622–25. 8  At-Ṭabarī, Ibn Jarir, Tārīkh al-Rusul wa al-Mulūk, Vol. 4 (Beirut: Dar al-Turath, 1967) 455–515. 9  See Ibn Kathīr, op. cit. 176. 4 5

6  Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One…

103

militants and avenging ʻUthmān. Relying on his status as ʻUthmān’s relative, Mu‘āwiya appealed to the Qur’anic verse (17: 33) giving the kin of an unjustly murdered person to take (measured) retribution, to legalize his challenge to ‘Ali. He also continued to accuse ‘Ali of collusion in the murder, and of harboring the killers. Zubayar and Ṭalḥa had initially pledged allegiance to ‘Ali, but later claimed that the militants had coerced them into this. ‘Ali did not deem it wise to accede to requests to bring the murderers to justice, not only because they formed the bulk of his army, but also for the equally pragmatic reason that it was not clear who the actual killers were. At a later stage, when Mu‘āwiya made this his key demand, over 20,000 among his soldiers turned up at the mosque, fully armed, shouting that they have all taken part in killing ʻUthmān.10 ‘Ali had also been reluctant to accept that ʻUthmān was unjustly killed, thus implicitly denying the relevance of the above verse.11 Another influential group that emerged was that of the qurrā’ (reciters of the Qur’an), beginning to coalesce as a nascent religious class. They were also at times referred to as the ‘hooded men’ (Ashab al-qalanis), which signaled that they also distinguished themselves in appearance.12 This group was present in both camps, and had continued to play a role in negotiations and in restraining both sides as skirmishes began. At another level, a group generally referred to as ʻUthmānists also began to emerge, and was largely neutral in the early stages of the conflict. For example, al-Minqarī mentions that al-Raqqa, in Syria, was populated by ʻUthmānists, who refused to permit ‘Ali‘s army to cross the river through their territory, until threatened with attack. It is not clear what is meant by this designation, but it appears to refer to conservatives who were opposed to the anti-ʻUthmān militants, but not yet convinced of the need to fight.13 Djait describes this group as the second party to emerge after the qurrā’, and included many of ʻUthmān’s close friends and supporters, but widened to include many loyalists in the provinces, who tended to be neutral amidst the camps.14 The Basra group, in which ‘Āisha became increasingly the most influential figure, foregrounded the theme of avenging ʻUthmān, insisting on the priority of bringing the murderers to justice, and on ending the militants’ occupation of Medina. They proceeded to implement this in Basra, where they killed hundreds of suspected militants accused of taking part in the assault on ʻUthmān’s home. However, the Basra group was soon eliminated, as they lost their first and last war with ‘Ali. The two male leaders were killed, and a repentant and subdued ‘Āisha was captured and sent home to Medina.15

 Nasr ibn Muzahim al-Minqarī, Waq‘at Ṣiffīn (Beirut: Dar al-Jil, 1990) 190.  al-Minqarī, op. cit. 201–2. 12  Ibid, 99; Djait, Al-Fitnah, 96–106. 13  Ibn-Muzahim Al-Minqarī, C. 1962. Waq‘at Ṣiffīn, 2nd edition, ed. Abd al-Salam M.  Harun (Cairo: Al-Muassassah Al-Arabiyya Al-Haditha, c. 1962)12–14; Hicham Djait, Al-Fitnah, 185–97. 14  Hicham Djait, Al-Fitnah, 173–76. 15  At-Ṭabarī, op. cit., vol. 4: 488–538. 10 11

104

A. El-Affendi

6.3  Multiple Lines of Polarization This left the two main camps of ‘Ali and Mu‘āwiya, which had already acquired another de facto identity: Iraqis on the one side, and Syrians (Shamis) on the other. This was an interesting polarization, supported by another line of division between Southern Arabs (Yemenis/Qaḥṭanis) and Northern Arabs (Muḍaris). The former were more preponderant in ‘Ali’s camp, even though plenty of them were also among the Syrians. The Anṣār (original residents of Medina) were almost exclusively with ‘Ali, with only a token couple (who did not actually fight) on the other side.16 The ideological line of polarization was expressed around two inter-connected themes, expressed eloquently in two letters exchanged between the two leaders in the early stages of their confrontation. The two protagonists had earlier exchanged emissaries and briefer letters, where ‘Ali asked Mu‘āwiya to submit to his rule. The latter first asked ‘Ali to hand in ʻUthmān’s killers, and then asked to be left in his post as governor of Syria. He also asked to be given control of Egypt as well. This would be in exchange of his loyalty during ‘Ali’s lifetime, with no obligation to submit to any successor. ‘Ali refused. Mu‘āwiya then disputed the legitimacy of ‘Ali’s caliphate, charging that it had not been contracted through proper consultation. ‘Ali responded that those who deserve to be consulted (the leading figures among Muhājirūn and Anṣār) have been consulted, and that Mu‘āwiya did not qualify.17In his main letter, sent after months of negotiations through intermediaries, Mu‘āwiya voiced his misgivings about ‘Ali in vindictively bitter terms, accusing him of disloyalty to the first three Caliphs out of envy and spite. He added that ‘Ali’s hostility to ʻUthmān was the most bitter, even though he was a closer relative. He charged ‘Ali with responsibility for stoking opposition to ʻUthmān, until he was attacked and killed within hearing distance of ‘Ali’s home, without him lifting a hand to assist him. Had he taken one step to dissuade his assailants, he would have been forgiven his earlier hostilities. Any claim of innocence from the murder of ʻUthmān is suspect, given that the killers were among his most prominent supporters. If he wants to prove his innocence, he should hand over the killers. In that case, Mu‘āwiya would gladly join and support him. Otherwise, it is war.18 ‘Ali’s response was equally scathing. He reminded Mu‘āwiya that he, his father and clan, had been the most hostile to Islam and the Prophet, and had only submitted to Islam reluctantly. In contrast, the clan of Hāshim had paid the highest price for defending the Prophet, even compared to other early Muslims, who enjoyed the protection of their clans, and did not thus suffer the level of persecution endured by the Prophet’s immediate family. (This was in response to Mu‘āwiya’s claim that the first three caliphs were the worthiest of Muslims, and ‘Ali had envied them). Regarding ʻUthmān’s killers, ‘Ali’s point, in addition to denying any culpability in  Al-Minqarī, op. cit., 449.  Al-Minqarī, op. cit., 28–30. 18  Al-Minqarī, op. cit., 86–87. 16 17

6  Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One…

105

the murder, was to affirm that ʻUthmān’s death occurred in a conflict provoked by his policies, and he saw no justification for handing the accused to Mu‘āwiya or anybody else. In response to Mu‘āwiya’s threat to pursue the killers wherever they may be, ‘Ali told him that he need not bother. For if he persists in his defiance, the accused were going to come to him out of their own accord very soon.19 The lines were thus drawn around multiple claims of legitimacy deployed by ‘Ali and his camp, including religious credentials, closeness to the Prophet, having been proclaimed Caliph by the lawful electors’ of Medina, and being followed and supported by the ‘righteous’. On the other side, the claim of being the rightful avengers of ʻUthmān, ‘the wronged caliph’, became Mu‘āwiya’s battle cry. This call had a very powerful moral appeal, especially given the tainted image of the anti-ʻUthmān militants as ‘extremists’, and dangerous ‘ruffians’. The Syrian camp also intermittently deployed the ‘consultation’ card, arguing that the designation of ‘Ali as Caliph had not gone through the proper consultation process. They also made it a point that, even if and when their demands of handing over ʻUthmān’s killers were met, they would not recognize ‘Ali’s caliphate. Rather, the matter must be referred back to the people to choose a leader through consultation.20

6.4  The Battle and Its Aftermath By the end of Muharram AH 37, the two sides reached a deadlock. With no peaceful resolution in sight, the following month of Safar, (July 657 CE) witnessed the eruption of fighting. The two armies had been camping at Siffin, a Syrian village on the west bank of the Euphrates, not far from today’s Raqqa. ‘Ali had marched his army to that location two months earlier, and the two sides had a brief engagement as they fought over access to water. Negotiations then started, mediated by the qurrā’ from both sides. The latter camped in the middle, repeatedly intervening to prevent or contain clashes. The battle lasted only three days, but the fighting was extremely fierce and highly traumatic. Not only did fighting involve brothers in religion, but family members and fellow-tribesmen were also involved on opposite sides. During the last two days, the battle went on non-stop throughout the whole day and whole night (called the ‘night of grunts’, since exhausted fighters were engaged in hand-­ to-­hand combat, often with bare hands, with many barely able to move). For pious Muslims, it was significant that the fighting did not stop for four out of the five obligatory daily prayers. The combatants performed prayers standing up and gesturing, as the fighting continued.21

 Al-Minqarī, op. cit., 88–91.  Ibn Jarir At-Ṭabarī, Tārīkh al-Rusul wa al-Mulūk, Vol. 5, ed. Muhammad Ibrahim (Cairo: Dar al-Ma‘arif, 1971), 7. 21  Al-Minqarī, 452–478. 19 20

106

A. El-Affendi

As over a quarter of the 200,000 fighters in both armies lay dead, pleas for peace rose up from both sides, but mainly from Mu‘āwiya’s army, which stood on the brink of defeat. The two armies were made up the bulk of the garrisons of the two border provinces of Syria and Iraq, where the two recently defeated world empires of Persia and Byzantium could spring back in search of revenge. News were already coming of rebellions in some Persian provinces, while the Byzantine Emperor was rumored to be preparing an attack. Men on both sides loudly expressed anxieties about what would happen to Arab women and children if the two main Muslim armies wiped themselves out. Then Mu‘āwiya’s side came up with the idea of brandishing copies of the Qur’an, held up on the tips of their spears, in a gesture of calling for appeal to ‘God’s Book’ as the authority in resolving the dispute.22 ‘Ali, supported by only a couple of his key lieutenants, expressed skepticism about the motives of the other side, urging the troops to stay the course. One of his most effective commanders, Mālik al-Ashtar, pleaded with colleagues for just a couple of hours, so that he could end the battle. However, the militants threatened to kill ‘Ali himself, or hand him over to his enemies, unless the man is recalled from the frontline and forced to stop the fighting.23 From then on, ‘Ali almost completely lost control over his army, which split between those accepting the call for arbitration on the basis of the Qur’an, and those vehemently opposed to it. ‘Ali himself was reported to have said: ‘Until yesterday, I was the Commander of the Faithful. Now, I am being commanded’.24 The Syrian camp, in contrast, remained united and firmly loyal to its leader. After agreeing on the mechanisms and modalities of Taḥkīm, the two armies withdrew to their respective bases, with a truce announced. The two sides were to send contingents of four hundred men each with their leaders to meet at an appointed place (Dawmat al-Jandal in the North of today’s Saudi Arabia) during the month of Ramadan, that is seven months later.25

6.5  Taḥkīm The idea of brandishing copies of the Qur’an to urge the other side to stop fighting and revert to God’s rule was not new. In fact, it had been tried by ‘Ali himself during his stand-off with his other challengers in Basra in the preceding year. He sent a young man to stand between the two armies and lift a copy of the Qur’an to dissuade the other side from starting a fight. The gesture had the opposite effect, triggering the war instead. The young man was greeted from the Basra camp by a hail of

 At-Ṭabarī, op. cit., vol. 5: 45–60.  At-Ṭabarī, op. cit., vol. 5: 48–50. 24  Al-Minqarī, op. cit., 484. 25  Djait (pp. 216–19) casts doubt on the commonly accepted date and location of the meeting, but does not marshal sufficient evidence to support his scepticism. 22 23

6  Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One…

107

arrows that left him dead. Ironically, when the Basrans tried the same move later as they were losing the battle, the reaction from ‘Ali’s camp was similar.26 Taha Hussain correctly noted that the motives of the protagonists in the two cases were radically different. In Basra, ‘Ali’s aim was to avert bloodshed in a battle he was confident he could win; in Siffin, Mu‘āwiya’s aim was to escape defeat.27 Following the initial agreement on Taḥkīm, Mu‘āwiya’s camp continued to dictate the terms of the process. Confronted with an initiative that remained vague in its import, ‘Ali sent one of his commanders (who was most enthusiastic about Taḥkīm) to inquire from Mu‘āwiya about concrete proposals. The latter suggested that each side should appoint a representative, and the two should deliberate on the best resolution that conformed to Qur’anic injunctions. ‘Ali’s side readily agreed, and the arbiters’ mandate was defined in terms of seeking the ‘interest of Muslims’, with the Qur’an as their reference. The formula is taken from a Qur’anic verse referring to marital disputes, where it was suggested that in such cases, a representative from the wife’s family, and another from the husband’s, should be selected to arbitrate in the dispute.28 It did not occur to either side that such a formula would not work well with political disputes, where things are more complicated, calling for a more independent and non-bipartisan type of arbitration. In a marital dispute, the two arbiters would be negotiating on behalf of two other persons, each seeking to protect the interests of the respective party. This is not the case in arbitration in a public dispute, which resembles a judiciary process. In that case, the arbiters should be independent and impartial. It is ironic that the pioneering experiment of Caliph Omar’s appointment of a council of six (seven with his son Abdullāh as an observer), would have been more appropriate, both as a template and as a warning. The problem with that formula was that the members of the council were both electors and candidates. Having the candidates themselves decide who to choose was problematic, especially in a case where each wanted to be the winner. It worked well at the time, but only because one member excluded himself from the race, and was consequently accepted as an impartial arbiter. It was no coincidence that much of the conflict in the run-up to ʻUthmān’s murder and its aftermath was fed by rivalry between surviving members of the Council, as each maneuvered to make himself the front-runner for the highest office. The next step was agreeing on a framing document that would set out and further clarify the mandate. The agreed document emphasized ‘the rule of God and His Book’ as the ultimate point of reference. The two ‘arbiters’, it was written, should seek guidance in God’s Book first, then in the ‘just and consensual, non-divisive Sunna’. They should confirm what the Qur’an had enjoined, and exclude what it had outlawed. To protect the two arbiters, the document contained a pledge and solemn  Tabari, op. cit., vol. 5: 513.  Taha Husain, Al-Fitna al-Kubrā: Ali wa Banūh, Vol. 2 (Cairo: Hindawi Corporation, 2012) 86. 28  Qur’an, 4: 35 “And if you have reason to fear that a breach might occur between a [married] couple, appoint an arbiter from among his people and an arbiter from among her people; if they both want to set things aright, God would bring about their reconciliation. Behold, God is indeed all-knowing, well-informed.” 26 27

108

A. El-Affendi

assurances, from the two armies and their leaders, of security for the two arbiters and their families. The document committed both parties to honour the agreement, and to offer full support to the arbiters in their duties, with the two armies undertaking to become ‘their soldiers’.29 The text had some problematic sections, as in the provision that when the two arbiters make their ruling, the tow protagonists and their armies must abide by it, with no option to modify the ruling or diverge from it. The whole Umma would then stand behind their fair judgement. However, it is also added that the two arbiters must act scrupulously. They should not be intentionally unfair, act suspiciously, succumb to bias, or deviate from the teachings of the Qur’an and Sunna. If they did, then the Umma is not bound by their judgement, and they lose all their immunities.30 There is a circularity in these provisions, since the language raises questions about who has the right and authority to decide if the two arbiters had acted unfairly or deviated from the Qur’an? As for bias, the very procedure by which the two men had been selected presupposed bias. For they were selected by the two parties as representatives, and not as independent arbitrators. This posed an additional problem in ‘Ali’s camp, whose fractious supporters rejected all his nominations for a representative, insisting on selecting the above-mentioned Abū Mūsa al-Ash‘arī, a.k.a., Abdullāhi ibn Qays. Al-Ash‘arī became a recluse after his sacking as governor of Kufa for defying ‘Ali’s instruction to mobilize against the Basra dissidents. He had, instead, advised the Kufans to remain neutral, and stay out of the fighting. After his dismissal, he moved to Mecca, a refuge for many who wanted to distance themselves, physically as well as politically, from both camps. ‘Ali and his close supporters were furious, but were again overruled by the raucous army. Here, regional-ethnic identities played a role. A number of ‘Ali’s key lieutenants, overwhelmingly of Yemeni origin, openly defied his preference for Ibn Abbas, his cousin and close confidant, as a representative. ‘Ali argued that Abū Mūsā, in addition to his suspect loyalty, was not up to the wily intrigues of ‘Amr ibn al-‘Āṣ, Mu‘āwiya’s representative. But the Yemenis said they would not have two Muḍaris arbitrate this issue, even if this meant they could lose the case! ‘Ali was again forced to yield. Even after the document was agreed, dissent in the ranks, this time among Mu‘āwiya’s supporters, forced some changes. The latter rejected ‘Ali’s designation as Caliph, objecting also to mentioning ‘Ali’s name and the Iraqis first. Mu‘āwiya later accepted that ‘Ali’s name should come first, his own supporters balked at this. ‘Ali was ready to compromise, even though the inspiration he cited infuriated the other side even more, since they were compared to infidels. (‘Ali compared himself to the Prophet, citing the concessions he made to his (still pagan) Meccan opponents in an earlier treaty). In the end, two documents were prepared, one for the Syrians with Mu‘āwiya named first, the other reversed the order.31

 The text is available in many versions. See al-Minqarī, op. cit., 504–505  Al-Minqarī, op. cit., 504–505. 31  At-Ṭabarī, op. cit. vol. 5: 48–54; Cf. Al-Minqarī, 498–515. 29 30

6  Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One…

109

‘Ali’s troubles did not end here. While the Syrians returned home united and satisfied, in spite of their military defeat, ‘Ali did not have a jubilant reception on his return to his new home. Even more troubling was the reaction of some followers when the document was read to them while still in Siffin. One prominent leader exclaimed: ‘Do you give men the power of arbitration in God’s religion?’ Another man went further, launching himself into Mu‘āwiya’s army, fighting fiercely until he was killed. As the prominent Yemeni commander, Al-Ash’ath ibn Qays (the same emissary sent to Mu‘āwiya for clarification of his offer of Taḥkīm), went around the camp reading the text to various battalions of the Iraqi army, he was assaulted by angry dissidents. The incident almost triggered a tribal conflict. The disarray in the Iraqi army persisted as they travelled home, with soldiers abusing and beating each other all the way to Kufa.32 On arrival, a big contingent of the army (reports estimate it as between 6 and 12 thousand) refused to enter Kufa, setting up a separate camp in an area named Harura, outside the city. The bulk of the dissidents were from the qurrā’, the nucleus of the ulama class, who were beginning to set themselves up as guardians of religious authority. This group was labelled Haruriyya (in reference to their initial location), and Muḥakkima (in reference to their main slogans: ‘No rule except by God’.) Later they became known as Khawārij (outlaws), while numerous labels were used for later factions. The Khawārij label became more common, especially after the group started to attack innocent passers-by, and to declare all those disagreeing with them, including Imām ‘Ali, unbelievers. At first, ‘Ali was inclined to tolerate them, instructing his followers not to molest them or bar them from the main mosque, unless they resort to violence. When they did, he waged war against them, and all but wiped them out. However, many new factions under the same label continued to emerge and launch attacks for years to come. A few more moderate trends of the movement survive to this day (in Oman and parts of North Africa).33 The movement’s motto was an interesting play on words. The Arabic term Taḥkīm (arbitration) is from the same root as ḥukm (rule, governance), but the two words are not identical. Arbitration in disputes between individuals and groups is not the same as governance. It is a matter of weighing claims, and bringing views closer together. The Qur’an has many explicit provisions for arbitration in disputes, or even determination of penalties in certain misdemeanors. However, even governance itself is a matter of discretion. In the Qur’an, the explicit rule in both cases is the same: justice and fairness. What is just in any situation is a matter of judgement, and the Qur’an assumes that human reason and common sense were sufficient to determine the limits of justice. In any case, the arbitration document was very explicit in that the two selected arbitrators should strictly observe the injunctions of the Qur’an. The actual explicit Qur’anic command with regards of intra-Muslim conflict like the one at hand are also clear in its injunctions: reconciliation should be attempted

32 33

 Al-Minqarī, op. cit., 515–531.  Djait, op. cit., 224–235.

110

A. El-Affendi

(which could involve arbitration); if unsuccessful because of intransigence from one party that rejects what is deemed a fair solution, then it must be forced to accept the deal, and fought if need be. If it relents, then it is back to reconciliation (again, in justice and fairness).34

6.6  Arbitration Fiasco The two arbitrators then met as agreed in Ramadan that year, and deliberated over their mandate, debating how the interests and welfare of the Muslim community could best be served. Since they could not agree on the merits of any of the two candidates, it was agreed to reject the claims of both contenders, referring the matter back to the Muslim community to choose its own leader. According to some reports, they then considered some possible candidates, with Abū Mūsā proposing Abdullāhi ibn ‘Umar (ibn al-Khattāb), and Amr then proposed his own son, Abdullāhi ibn Amr, who is seen by the community as close to Ibn ‘Umar in probity, piety and knowledge. But Abū Mūsā protested that Amr’s son had become too implicated in the conflict. Amr tried to convince Abū Mūsā to leave Mu‘āwiya as Caliph, which the latter rejected. They then agreed to the original idea of just deposing the two contenders, and referring the matter back to the community.35 A problem occurred when the decision was conveyed to the people, with Abū Mūsā speaking fist, informing the audience that he and ‘Amr had agreed to depose both contenders, and leave the matter for the community to choose a leader in free consultation. However, ‘Amr then ascended the podium, and agreed with Abū Mūsā on deposing ‘Ali, but confirming Mu‘āwiya as Caliph. Mayhem then ensued, and the gathering dispersed amid chaos.36 This exacerbated the crisis in ‘Ali’s camp, with the militants (the future Khawārij) growing more vocal. ‘Ali and his chief aide, Abdullāhi ibn Abbas, had earlier debated with them, defending the arbitration deal. As a result, about 6000 of the group (out of up to 12 thousand) repented and accepted his authority. The rest engaged in fighting and were defeated. Following the fiasco, the simmering tensions rose again sharply. Dissidents who had escalated their protests while the two arbitrators were still deliberating at Dumat al-Jandal, reiterated accusations that ‘Ali had committed a grave sin for concluding the agreement. They asked him to repent his sin and join them to fight the enemy. ‘Ali countered that an error of judgement cannot be deemed a sin. And in any case, his opponents were responsible for that error, since he had advised against acceptance of peace with Mu‘āwiya. He reminded the  Qur’an, 49: 9 “Hence, if two groups of believers fall to fighting, make peace between them; but then, if one of the two [groups) goes on acting wrongfully towards the other, fight against the one that acts wrongfully until it reverts to God’s commandment; and if they revert, make peace between them with justice, and deal equitably (with them]: for verily, God loves those who act equitably!” 35  At-Ṭabarī, op. cit., 5: 67–71. 36  At-Ṭabarī, op. cit. 5: 70–71. 34

6  Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One…

111

hardliners that it was they who insisted on appointing Abū Mūsā as their representative over strong objections from him. However, the dissidents maintained their campaign, becoming even more vociferous after the failure of the arbitration.37 The rest of the story is well known. Dissent continued in ‘Ali’s camp, and fighting with the Khawārij continued, until one of them murdered ‘Ali in the year 40AH/661. As a result, Mu‘āwiya consolidated his rule, ending the Righteous Caliphate. The memory of Taḥkīm continues to be associated in Muslim consciousness with this fiasco, escalating conflict, and the collapse of the Medina model of righteous governance.

6.7  A New Look at Taḥkīm A deeper look would reveal another side to this story. The episode was, to the contrary, a rare precedent of Islamic consensus on clear democratic rules. The document framing the arbitration process, agreed by both warring parties, had set out the guiding principles on which this and all other disputes should be resolved. The ultimate reference for any such a resolution should be the Qur’an and the consensually agreed Sunna (words and practice) of the Prophet. In both cases, it referred the determination of what Sunna is, and its interpretation and that of the Qur’an, to the consensus among the majority. Following a lengthy period of extensive and intensive deliberations and consultations, the team came up with its ruling: the two contending leaders should both step down, with the issue of leadership referred back to the Muslim community to collectively decide on a leader to be chosen through consultation. The process was based on consultation, agreed consultation as a cardinal principle, and the ruling referred people back to consultation as the solution to the crisis. This is a very important message from a time of deepest turmoil in the Umma’s history. It is significant that, even at that early stage of dissent and confusion, the collective view equated consensus on the appeal to divine law with the collective judgement of the Umma through uncoerced and inclusive consultation. It is true that an extremist minority rejected this view, while some opportunistic tactics derailed the process and made a mockery of it. However, these developments cannot camouflage the central fact of the emergence of a community-wide consensus on uncoerced popular will as the ultimate court of appeal for intra-community conflict resolution, and also for understanding and interpreting the Qur’an. The Khawārij’s most serious error in this instance had been their neglect of this public and consensual dimension of the determination of the Law. They equated the ‘Rule of God’ with their own personal preferences, not to say their whims, bypassing public consultation and institutional safeguards. This has reflected itself in the whimsical conduct of this group and its offshoots, and explains its tendency to

37

 At-Ṭabarī, op. cit. 5: 64–66; 72–89.

112

A. El-Affendi

fragment into myriad hostile factions on the basis of trivial points of disagreement. This subjectification of the law, in contrast to the Taḥkīm prioritization of Shūrā and Ijmā’ (consensus) is at the root of the problem. Individual conscience is central to religion. However, if such an assertion is not collectively endorsed and vindicated by fellow-believers, it will remain an inconsequential (or very dangerous) idiosyncratic stance. Herein lies the significance of this early consensus on Shūrā (as an inclusive and un-coerced process of deliberation within the community of believers) as the most reliable guidance to understanding the essence of the divine will. While the parties disagreed on many things, and were ready to go to war against each other, they were still able to reach consensus that there was no alternative to uncoerced consultation as the ultimate arbiter, in both intra-community disputes and the understanding and implementation of religious teachings.

6.8  Conclusion Taḥkīm’s lesson is thus a central one for modern Islamic thought and practice. The general view of this formative episode in Islamic history has been lost in the clouds of ideological polarization, and a sense of disillusionment and disappointment. This negative perspective diminished or ignored the episode’s seminal significance as a major expression of early Islamic consensus on ‘democratic’ norms as central Islamic principles of self-organization, and the final arbiter of legitimacy. Rather, it is remembered as a fiasco, reflective of the worst of practices: deception and manipulation on one side, and intolerant dogmatic extremism on another, with naïve idealism on a third side. There is justification for much of this. The Mu‘āwiya camp used all sorts of unethical subterfuge to subvert the process of arbitration, including offering bribes to Abū Mūsā, and trying to manipulate him through various ruses. ‘Amr, Mu‘āwiya’s representative, abused the process by lying to his partner about his intentions, deceiving the community and abusing his position of trust. The community had been awaiting a consensus ruling from the two arbiters, and had no interest in their individual opinions. There was an imbalance in the process from the start, since ‘Ali’s supposed representative was impartial from the start, while ‘Amr had been a committed Mu‘āwiya loyalist, besides showing bias towards his own personal interests (trying to get his own son nominated to the position of Caliph). The formula was also problematic in assigning to two individual, partisan, representatives to perform the role of an independent court of authoritative arbiters. It was self-­ contradictory to demand impartiality from the chosen representatives of the two warring parties. The continuing fragmentation and raucousness of ‘Ali’s following did not help, nor did his tendency to appease the extremists within his camp, who continued to exercise undue influence within the group. It also undermined and compromised the camp’s moral claims. The resulting moral confusion contrasted sharply with ‘Ali’s own determination not to make any political compromises,

6  Taḥkīm as an Islamic Democratic Precedent? Towards a New Look at One…

113

rejecting pleas from close supporters, including his own son Hassan, to accommodate demands from Mu‘āwiya and other rivals. But even taking all these issues into account, the Taḥkīm option remains a bright spot amid this confusion. It represented a rare consensus for the return to the basics: following the injunctions of the Qur’an and the collective practice of the founding generation, within the context and parameters of uncoerced and inclusive deliberation. The fact that some actors and groups did abuse the process is not an indictment of it, anymore than the abuses of democracy being a justification for tyranny. The alternative to a defective democracy is not despotism, but an improved and better safeguarded democratic process. Similarly, the alternative to Taḥkīm is neither the power-state of the Umayyad despots and their modern-day heirs, nor the murderous violence of the Khawārij and their modern-day terror equivalents. Rather, it is better institutionalized and safeguarded Taḥkīm.

References Al-Minqarī, Ibn-Muzahim. C. 1962. Waq‘at Ṣiffīn. 2nd ed., ed. Abd al-Salam M. Harun. Cairo: Al-Muassassah al-Arabiyya al-Haditha. Al-Minqarī, Nasr ibn Muzahim. 1990. Waq‘at Ṣiffīn. Beirut: Dar al-Jil. Amin, Ahmed. 2012. Fajr Al-Islām [1929]. Cairo: Hindawi Corporation. Al-Ṭabarī, Ibn Jarir. 1971. Tārīkh al-Rusul wa al-Mulūk. Vol. 5. Ed. Muhammad Ibrahim. Cairo: Dar al-Ma‘arif. Al-Ṭabarī, Ibn-Jarir. 1967. Tārīkh al-Rusul wa al-Mulūk. Vol. 4. Beirut: Dar al-Turath. Djait, Hichem. 2000. Al-Fitna: Jadaliyyat al-dīn wa al-Siyāssa fī al-Islām al-Mubakkir, 4th ed. Trans. Khalil Ahmed Khalil. Beirut: Dar al-Tali‘a. El-Aqqad, Abbas Mahmoud. 2012. ‘Abqariyyat al-Imām ‘Ali. Cairo: Hindawi Corportation. El-Omari, Racha. 2016. The Muʿtazilite Movement (I): The Origins of the Muʿtazila. In The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Theology, ed. Sabine Schmidtke, 130–140. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Husain, Taha. 2012. Al-Fitna al-Kubrā: Ali wa Banūh. Vol. 2. Cairo: Hindawi Corporation. Kathīr, Ibn. 1992. Al-Bidāya wa al-Nihāya. Vol. 7. Beirut: Maktabat al-Maarif. Majlisi, Muhammad B. 2009. Biḥār al-Anwār. Qum, volume 8, part 2: Ihya al-Kutub al-Islamiyya. Van Ess, Josef. 2006. The Flowering of Muslim Theology. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Chapter 7

Universalism and Cosmopolitanism in Islam: The Idea of the Caliphate Massimo Campanini

Abstract While universalism is rooted in the very ideology of Islam and is grounded in the Qur’an, especially through the concepts of fiṭra, amr and rūḥ, cosmopolitanism is an essential characteristic of classical Muslim empires: both the Caliphate-Imamate (in Sunni and Shi‘a traditions respectively) and empires, like the Ottoman or the Mughal ones, were a melting pot of races, languages and customs. The Caliphate-Imamate was by nature supranational and for centuries there was no idea of the nation in Islam. Contemporary nationalism(s), local (Egyptian, Algerian or otherwise) or global (Pan-Arabism, Pan-Turkism and so on), have represented a disrupting more than a unifying force and have produced many failed states. In the present situation of crisis of the Muslim world, Puritanism and blind adherence to past tradition have paved the way for the revival of intolerance. Conservative or even extremist Islamist movements have assumed the deformed perspective of retrospective utopia, convinced that it is sufficient to reproduce the conditions of the Prophet’s time to solve all problems of Muslim societies. Hence, the Islamic state and Caliphate’s issues must be re-discussed from new perspectives, by recovering the potentials of universalism and cosmopolitanism in the tradition. It is central today the role of civil society, wherein Islamic universalism and cosmopolitanism could find their natural space, and the same goes for the role of citizenship. Reform requires a re-consideration of classical Islamic juridical and political thought patterns, which this chapter aims to do by, first, focalizing certain paradigms and concepts (universalism, cosmopolitanism, caliphate; umma, dhimma, jihad, and watan/ nation), and by, second, problematizing the modern meanings given to these paradigms and concepts. At the closure, I contend that it is in civil society that traditional meanings of universalism and cosmopolitanism can flourish again for functional political thought and praxis. Keywords  Universalism · Cosmopolitanism · Civil society · dār al-ḥarb · dār al-Islām · dhimma · Khilāfa · jihād · Liberation theology · Ibn Khaldūn · Hasan al-Banna · Hasan Hanafi

M. Campanini (*) University School for Advanced Studies IUSS Pavia, Pavia, Italy © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_7

115

116

M. Campanini

7.1  Universalism Universalism is rooted in the very ideology of Islam and is grounded in the Qur’an. At the moment of creation, humanity was only one Community, for we read in the Holy Book: “wa mā kāna al-nās illā ummatan wāḥidatan” (Q: 10,19; see also Q: 2,213). There was only one religion, the religion Abraham revived (see Q: 22,78) after humanity went astray, and it was Islam, the natural religion (Q: 30,30: “fa aqim wajhaka li al-dīn ḥanīfan fiṭrata’allāhi allatī faṭara al-nāsa ‘alayhā”). Abraham was not a Jew nor a Christian, but a monotheist, a ḥanīf. The message of Islam was forwarded to all peoples of the whole earth (see Q: 34,10: “wa mā arsalnāka [Muḥammad] illā kā-affatan li al-nās bashīran wa nadhīran,” and also Q: 38,87). We could multiply the citations, but it is enough to underline here that Islam envisages a potential unity of humankind’s history and evolution along with the actual unity of revelation’s history from the first prophet, Adam, to the last prophet, Muḥammad. A second important concept to be pointed out is that of Spirit. On the basis of the Qur’an, the Spirit (rūḥ) belongs to the world of power (‘ālam al-jabarūt). The most important verse is perhaps Q: 17,85 where the Divine Voice says that the Spirit comes from (min) the Command (amr) of God. A common interpretation is that the verse hints at the Angel Gabriel transmitting the message to the Prophet, but I rather believe that the verse speaks of God’s Command and decision in building up the universal cosmic order and structuring it through secondary causes (the Spirit is a metaphor for the causes). However, rūḥ in Q: 12,87 is interpreted also as divine “Mercy.” Many times rūḥ refers to Jesus like in Q: 4,171; Jesus is defined as a messenger of God endowed with the Spirit of Holiness (Q: 2,87). The Faithful Spirit (al-rūḥ al-amīn) of Q: 26,193 is most probably the Angel. The Spirit and the Command form the very basis of God’s creative work, and the human world embodies this Divine Order and Command through the formation of the believers’ Community, the umma. In the Qur’an the couple umma-rūḥ emphasizes a condition of excellence and privilege: Q: 3,110: “You are the best Community ever born among men”. Q: 2,256: “The believers are tightened by an un-breakable tie (al-‘urwa al-wuthqā).” Q: 3,103: “Hold to God’s rope and do not split in factions” is the admonition God addresses to all the believers in order to strengthen their mutual solidarity.

It is but natural to remember that the umma was born after the Hegira (or Hijra) from Mecca to Medina. The Hegira has been a powerful constituent fact: emigrating from Mecca to Medina, the Prophet opened a way out from the jāhiliyya past, a revolutionary fact which made of the Muslim Community a full subject of history. In Medina the Prophet promulgated the so-called Constitution or Chart (ṣaḥīfa) whose aim was to bind together all the components of Medinese society, Arab and Jews (and perhaps other tribes as well), by alliance and mutual support without resorting openly to religion. The fundament of Medina’s Chart is “secular”, so to speak. Still, any component of the Medinese society, when he/she entered the Islamic umma, kept his/her own religion.

7  Universalism and Cosmopolitanism in Islam: The Idea of the Caliphate

117

The controversial concept of dhimma derives straightly from these presuppositions. The peoples of the Book (ahl al-kitāb), that is Christians, Jews and Zoroastrians (and later Hindus), are allowed to live under the Islamic state as protected minorities. It is true that the concept of dhimma potentially involves inequality amongst the Community’s components, insofar as the protected minorities do not enjoy the believers’ full rights – for example, they cannot become chief of state and cannot proselytize. Dhimma, however, allowed Jews and Christians to live on the whole free and independent under Muslim rule for centuries. Throughout the Middle Ages (and not only in the Middle Ages), the Jews were far less persecuted in Islamic countries than in Christian Europe. On the other hand, we must focus again on the concept of fiṭra. It means first of all the “universality of religion.” As the great theologian Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī (ca 1056–1111) said, quoting a prophetic hadith: «Everyone is born with a sound nature; it is his parents who make him a Jew, a Christian or a Magian».1 Islam (as pure monotheism and not as a fixed and unchangeable system of political and juridical structures) is the very natural religion of humanity, encompassing all due beliefs and worship practices. It does not mean that other religions must be refused or, worst, persecuted; rather, it means that Islam conveys the authentic monotheistic idea any sincere believer has to profess, apart from any identification with historical religions. The problem of other (historical) religions’ recognizance is very serious. Sometimes, especially in contemporary times, Muslims are charged of not allowing free expression of worship to other religions in Muslim countries. I do not want to deal with this polemic here. I should like only to argue that much effort has been spent by the most progressive Islamic thinkers in order to demonstrate the compatibility of Islam with universalism and religious pluralism. Muḥammad ‘Abduh (1849–1905) is obviously the first case in point at the beginning of modern reformism. Commenting the previous cited Qur’anic verse (2, 213) and the previous cited concept of fiṭra, the Shi‘ite scholar Abdulaziz Sachedina maintained that a key aspect the Qur’an emphasizes is the unique origin and nature of humankind determined by God. All humankind worships the One Being. Sachedina widens his argument by saying that the pillars of pluralism are the notion of fiṭra, describing human beings as “God centered,” homini religiosi, beyond any confessional (historical) profession of faith (quoting the verse Q: 49,13), and the desire expressed in the Qur’an that, had He wished, God would have confirmed the unity of humankind’s community (quoting the verse 5,48). As God did not do so, it is obvious that He permitted religious pluralism.2 From the point of view of politics, the political institution recognized as characteristically Islamic was the Caliphate-Imamate. The Caliphate-Imamate was by nature supranational: its authority commanded obedience to autonomous kingdom 1  Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī, Deliverance from Error, in The Faith and Practice of al-Ghazali, ed. William Montgomery Watt (Oxford: Oneworld, 1994), 19. 2  Abdulaziz Sachedina, The Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism (New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001).

118

M. Campanini

and petty state. The  Umayyad empire was overwhelmingly Arab, but the multi-­ ethnic Abbasid empire legitimated the entering into Islam of many peoples, from the Persians to the Turks to the Blacks. The  Turkish Ottoman or Indian Mughal empires were supranational and no boundary marked precisely the territories of particular communities. Therefore, for centuries in Islam there was no idea of nation. The concept of umma encompassed peoples and tribes from the Maghreb to India and beyond. Nationalism grew in Islam many centuries after the foundation of the Caliphate-Imamate, in the 19th and 20th centuries as a consequence of the spread of Western political ideas through colonialist subjection. Qawm and waṭan, the commonest words hinting at the concepts of nation and home country, derive from the absorption of the Muslim mind of the Western outlook. It was in 1790 that the Ottoman ambassador in Paris translated for the first time the French word patrie with vaṭan. The new meaning of the term vaṭan or waṭan in Arabic became widely shared during the tanẓīmāt period (1839–1876), first in literature and then in politics. In the second half of the nineteenth century, the terms vaṭan-waṭan with the meaning of “country” (patrie) were commonly used in Ottoman and Arab newspapers alike. The Syrians Būṭrus al-Bustānī (1819–1893) and Adīb Iṣḥāq (1856–1885) fostered the birth of a (pan-)Arab identity, but it was probably in Egypt between 1860–1870 in Rifa‘a al-Tahtawi’s works that a clear idea of an “Egyptian” waṭan arose. ´Urabī Pasha’s revolt (1882) and then the political activity of Mustafa Kamil (1874–1908), founder of al-Ḥizb al-Waṭanī, the National Party, coupled the traditional religious theme of jihād against the colonizers with nationalism and the recovery of independence. After the First World War the boundaries of contemporary Islamic nations were drawn by imperialist powers in their partition of the Middle East and Asia by the pencil and ruler. Due to Western influence, in contemporary Islamic world, the modern (Westphalian) state was considered as the very basis of (alleged) local collective identities (Algerian, Egyptian, Iraqi and so on) with a defined autonomous political character. Artificial political organisms were created on paper and this fragmentation led until today to domestic and international troubles: in Algeria and Morocco, as well as in Lebanon and Syria or Syria and Iraq. Hamid Enayat contended that In the Twentieth Century, with the collapse of the Ottoman Empire and the gradual withering of the colonial system, Muslim peoples achieved the status of nationhood one after another. The result was that, in the new phase of Muslim self-assertion, concern with the criteria of nationhood began to prevail over the notion of patriotism, especially in the minds of Arab writers. This marked the beginning of an ideological controversy among the Muslim intellectuals which is still continuing. It centered around the basic contradiction between nationalism as a time-bound set of principles related to the qualities and needs of a particular group of human beings, and Islam as an eternal, universalist message, drawing no distinction between its adherents except on the criterion of their piety.3

Therefore, although the idea of nationalism brought within it political fragmentation, Islamic religious universalism remained unshaken and this universal religious 3  Hamid Enayat, Modern Islamic Political Thought (Basingstoke and London: Macmillan, 1982), 112.

7  Universalism and Cosmopolitanism in Islam: The Idea of the Caliphate

119

consciousness is still working throughout the whole Islamic world. As Ibrahim Abu Rabi‘put it, in the Arab world “nationalism resurrected Islam as an Arab religion and Muḥammad as an Arab prophet. Both Nationalism and Islamism invented their own versions of the past, and both anchored their ideal in a highly unstable present.”4 Even after the failure of secular Arab Nationalism (from Nasser onward),5 Islam remained the permanent universal value in mass consciousness. This appears true also from the point of view of umma. The concept of umma lost its pregnancy when the universality of the Islamic empire(s) gave way to the sultanates’ and emirates’ polycentric reality, and it seems indeed meaningless in the contemporary world of nation-states. Islamist thinkers, though, resurrected the concept of umma as the universalistic dimension of Islam in order to come to grips with the fragmentation of the contemporary world of nation-states: Twentieth century Islamist thought has invented the notion of the umma as a “religious response” to the political weakening and division of the Muslim world. Islamist thinkers such as Hasan al-Banna, Muhammad al-Ghazali, Sayyid Qutb, Isma‘il al-Faruqi and Taha al-‘Alwani, have used the term “umma” to refer to the entire Muslim world without much discussion of the major historical, political and cultural differences between the many countries that in fact make up the Muslim world. The Islamist thinkers advance the term umma on the presupposition that there have been common religious and historical bond in the Muslim world that justify the use of such a term.6

We must not forget that although Islamic ideology does not imply any difference among men and women under the perspective of race or colour or ethical morality, it stresses the difference between believers and unbelievers. Brotherhood is seemingly affirmed only among believers in a number of Qur’anic verses (for example Q: 49,10: “innamā al-mu’minūna ikhwatun fa-aṣliḥū bayna akhawaykum wa attaqū Allāh”). It could involve a dangerous exclusion and opposition due to biased interpretations. Although the same Qur’an strongly asserts that “We [God] created you from a male and a female and made of you peoples and tribes in order you know one another” (Q. 49,13), the sharp distinction between believers and non-believers could involve the superiority of one group over another. The dhimmī not always enjoyed the same rights as Muslims. The spirit of the Medina’s Chart was lost after the waning of Islamic supremacy in the late Middle Ages, and the tolerance of the first times was lost in translation. This restrictive process began perhaps with the Almoḥad government in the Maghreb and al-Andalus in the 12-13th centuries. It was strictly linked with the crisis of the Islamic civilization, however. When Islam was winning and supreme in sciences and culture, openness was a common feature. Openness or tolerance are common features of all dominating civilizations, but sometimes they turn xenophobic and intolerant when they decline, a phenomenon well known not only in the Middle East, but even more in today Europe and USA as well. When  Ibrahim Abu Rabi’, Contemporary Arab Thought: Studies in post-1967 Arab Intellectual History (London: Pluto Press, 2004), 132. 5  Adeed Dawisha, Arab Nationalism in the Twentieth Century: From Triumph to Despair (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 2002). 6  Abu Rabi‘, Contemporary Arab Thought, 159. 4

120

M. Campanini

Islam began to stand back in modern times, Puritanism and close (blind) adherence to past tradition paved the way for the revivals of intolerance as well. In the juridical thought of Islam distinctions like that between the dār al-Islām and dār al-ḥarb, that is “the abode of Islam” and “the abode of war”, were potentially dangerous. The abode of war, for example - all the countries where Islamic law is not implemented and where unbelief is supposedly overwhelming –, were the possible target of jihād, here meaning properly “holy war” against unbelievers. Even though Islamic history largely proved that jihād was more a juridical item than a factual way to wage wars or influence international relations, the principle was permanently present in the manuals of fiqh.7 Sharī‘a has been considered by a part of (mainly Western) international public opinion to be at odds with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights:8 the inequality of women and the status of minorities coupled with restrictions in religious freedom undoubtedly are major questions to be solved by Islamic jurisprudence in present times. Abdullahi al-Na‘im, a prominent Arab Sunni jurist based in the US since the early 1990s, and a student of Muhammad Taha, argued that “if the Muslims desire to exercise their legitimate collective right to self-determination…[they must] not violate the legitimate right of self-determination of individuals and groups both within and outside the Muslim communities.”9 The faults of Islamic jurisprudence are not outcomes of the sacred Text’s faults, but of a distort development of fiqh on the basis of a misunderstood interpretation of sharī‘a. The Qur’an demonstrates this assumption in many ways. For instance, the famous statement “there is no compulsion in religion” (2256) grants the freedom of religious profession. Moreover, it is important to quote again, but extensively Q. 49:13: O you who believe! Let not one group of men among you deride another, for they may be better than them; nor one group of women deride another, for they may be better than them, nor slander each other, nor call each other names – how bad it is to call each other by bad names after all of you became believers. […] O people! We have created all of you out of male and female, and we have made you into different nations and tribes only for mutual identifications; the noblest of you in the site of God is the one most possessed of taqwā; God knows well and is best informed.

Referring to these verses, Fazlur Rahman correctly contended that “the essence of all human rights is the equality of the entire human race, which the Qur’an assumed, affirmed and confirmed. It obliterated all distinctions among men except goodness

7  See Rudolph Peters, Jihad in Classical and Modern Islam (Princeton: Markus Wiener, 1996), and Asma Afsaruddin, Striving in the Path of God. Jihad and Martyrdom in Islamic Thought (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013). 8  Ann Elizabeth Mayer, Islam and Human Rights: Tradition and Politics (Boulder CO: Westview Press, 1991). 9  Abdullahi Al-Na‘im, Toward an Islamic Reformation: Civil Liberties, Human Rights and International Law (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1990), 1; for a Shi‘i perspective, see Mohsen Kadivar, “Human Rights and Intellectual Islam,” 2009, https://en.kadivar.com/2009/05/15/ human-rights-and-intellectual-islam/ (Accessed 23 July 2018).

7  Universalism and Cosmopolitanism in Islam: The Idea of the Caliphate

121

and virtue (taqwā).”10 Universalism is a basic idea grounded in the Qur’an, but any religion is what men and women make of it, often betraying the ethical spirit of revelation.

7.2  Cosmopolitanism Islamic empires were not only universal, but also a cosmopolitan reality: both the classical Caliphate-Imamate or the Ottoman or Mughal empires were a melting pot of races, languages and customs stretching from North Africa to Far East Asia. In the Ottoman empire the millet institution testifies the cohabitation of different religious communities within the state.11 No one was excluded from social promotion or from sharing authority and prestige. The Turks built states and sultanates already during the government of the Arab Abbasid dynasty. Eunuchs and Negroes were sometimes the real holders  of power, for instance in Egypt under the Ikhshidids (ruled 939–969). Even slaves, the Mamluks, became sultans and the Mamluk rule was one of the most striking phenomenon of power in the Islamic East.12 Jews and Christians served as physicians, clerks and wazīrs in almost every Middle Eastern Islamic court. In Muslim Spain, over at least five centuries until the Almohad rule, the three monotheistic faiths lived together producing an unique blend of cultures on philosophical, literary and artistic levels. As stated earlier, the introduction of nationalism in the Middle East and the political conflicts among states and peoples in the twentieth and twenty-first century crushed the original cosmopolitanism. It is paradoxical that the same idea of (pan-) Arab nationalism posed the same Arab nations one against the other, and against other non-Arab political realities with a specific, sometimes aggressive vindication of individual authenticity. It would be enough to remember the modern conflicts between Morocco and Algeria, Sudan and Egypt, Syria and Lebanon, Iraq and Syria. The opposition of “the self” and “the other” runs through the whole history of relations between the West and the Islamic world. Europe discovered its “European” identity during the Crusades in opposition to the “Other” Muslim. More recently, the Islamic world sought a new self-image through the reforming movements of nahḍa and iṣlāḥ. Nahḍa aimed to “modernize Islam”, while iṣlāḥ aimed to “Islamize modernity.” Nahḍa included those thinkers who, like al-Tahtawi and Taha Hussain, Lutfi al-Sayyid and Qasim Amin, interacted with the West emphasizing the alleged backwardness and faults of Islamic culture; they tried to implant the seeds of Western “progress” and “modernity” in a politically stagnant Muslim world. Iṣlāḥ

 Fazlur Rahman, Major Themes in the Qur’an [1980] (Minneapolis, MN: Biblioteca Islamica, 1994), 30. 11  Federico Donelli, Islam e pluralismo. La coabitazione religiosa nell’Impero ottomano (MilanoFirenze: Mondadori- Le Monnier, 2017). 12  David Ayalon, Le Phénomene Mamelouk dans l’Orient Islamique (Paris: P.U.F, 1996). 10

122

M. Campanini

included those thinkers like al-Afghani and Muhammad ‘Abduh, Rashid Rida and Ben Badis who interacted with the West stressing, on the contrary, the “modernity” of Islam and the Qur’an, their rationality and full capability to manage the issues of contemporary sciences and technology and politics.13 Both trends were not free from excesses and extremism: secularism moved sometimes towards atheism, recovery of traditions moved sometimes towards religious radicalism. But on the whole, the dialectics was productive. The Egyptian philosopher Hasan Hanafi (b. 1935), for example, elaborated a new image of Occidentalism as a science leading Oriental and first of all Arab and Islamic peoples to recover their identity against the imperialist West and its colonizing science of Orientalism. I quote him at length: Occidentalism is a counter-field of research which can be developed in the Orient in order to study the West from non-Western world point of view. The Other in the self is always an image. An image is always a caricature which helps in well–shooting at the target. Orientalism drew lot of images for the Orient: Blacks, Yellows, Oriental despotism, primitive mentality, savage thought, Semite mind, Arab mind, violence, fanaticism, under-­ development, dependence, sectarianism, traditionalism, conservativism…Once the Other is caricaturized, it is easy to deal with him, justifying any action of the Self. The image made the Other a target which the Self can shoot at. Besides, the Self profuses a self-made image to sharpen itself such as: whites, Western, democracy, logical mentality, civilization, Arianism, peace, tolerance, development and even over-development, independence, secularism, modernism, progress, etcetera. By the power of mass-media and its control by the West, the perpetuation and the repetition of this double image was made by the Self to disarm the Other and to arm the Self, to create a permanent relation of superiority-­inferiority complex between the Occident and the Orient, and a relationship of inferiority-superiority complex between the Orient and the Occident. If Orientalism was the creation of the center, Occidentalism is the creation of the periphery. The center was also privileged in history of sciences, arts and cultures while the periphery was marginalized. The center creates and the periphery consumes. The center sees and conceptualizes. The center is the master and in the periphery lays the disciple. The center is the trainer and the periphery is the trained. Occidentalism, as a new science, can change this type of relationship and fixed roles played by the two for reverse relationships and roles.14

Although his view was criticized for proposing a new exclusivist ideology to the previous “white” racism, so that the dialogue between East and West would not be facilitated but hampered, with Oriental peoples still relegated in a ghetto and in a dangerous feeling of self-sufficiency,15 Hanafi, instead, argued in favour of an inter-­ subjectivity wherein the Self and the Other communicate on equal level, both as subjects and producers of history and culture, without one dominating and

 Albert Hourani, Arabic Thought in the Liberal Age (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1973); Massimo Campanini, La politica nell’Islam. Un’interpretazione (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2019); Ideologia e politica nell’Islam (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2008). 14  Hasan Hanafi, Islam in the Modern World, Vol. II (Cairo: Anglo-Egyptian Bookshop, 1995) 354–355. 15  Yudian Wahyudi, “Arab Responses to Hasan Hanafi’s “Muqaddima fī ‘ilm al-istighrāṣb,” The Muslim World 93 (2003), 233–248; Taher Labib in Samuela Pagani, ed., L’altro nella cultura araba (Messina: Mesogea, 2006). 13

7  Universalism and Cosmopolitanism in Islam: The Idea of the Caliphate

123

subjugating the other. The conquest of cultural identity is the presupposition of Universal Pluralism. Clarifying the point, he added: The affirmation of cultural identities by several peoples would initiate a pluralistic world far away from monolithism, unilateralism and hegemony. All cultures as equal partners would then Christianize the spirit of a Universal Pluralism as a common share for all. Given the importance of cultural dimension in socio-political development, the ideological identity in traditional and developing societies appears in theologies of liberation.16

From an Islamic point of view, Hanafi spoke of a paradigm where “the unity of purpose which is the Good Deed and the diversity of means are the very basis of the unity of revelation and the diversity of stages, the unity of the universal principle (tawḥid) and the diversity of the law (shari‘a),” since, as he went on quoting, the Qur’an says “O mankind! We created you from a single pair of a male and female, and made you into nations and tribes so that ye may know each other. Verily, the most honored of you in the site of God is he who is the most righteous of you” (Q 49,13).17 Hanafi seeks to reclaim this plural pattern of the Qur’an and proposes “liberation theology” as the needed paradigm for change. At length I quote him again: The liberation theology paradigm is the most viable paradigm of religious dialogue, taking advantage of all previous paradigms and transcending their limitation as follows: a. Liberation theology gives absolute priority to praxis on theoria. The purpose is to change the status quo, not to defend it… b. Liberation theology takes the side of the oppressed against the oppressor, of the poor against the rich, of the discriminated against racialists, of the third world against the first world… c. Liberation theology is a part of the socio-political struggle in which the wretched of the earth are engaged. It is not only a new theology in theory, but an implementation of a new world order in practice… d. Liberation theology is not interested in religions per se, but in humans. Religions and ideologies are simple tools for the betterment of mankind, whose matters are orthopraxis rather than orthodoxy. e. Liberation theology is first a liberation from theology, from the primacy of dogma, and second the liberation through theology. The eternal in man is the purest and deepest motivation for praxis. Not committing mischief and doing good on earth is the highest implementation of faith.18

Theology of liberation  - in Hanafi’s view –aims to vindicate the rights of the oppressed, in accordance with the Holy Book’s imperatives. Today, overcoming any potential violent opposition between “the self” and “the other” is needed in order to triumph over rhetorical as well as actual clashes of civilizations. Each “self” and “other” has to develop at the same time a complete consciousness of themselves by vindicating their identity, and at the same time by respecting the rights and peculiar characteristics of the other.

 Hanafi, Islam in the Modern World, Vol. II, 463–464.  Hanafi, La teologia islamica della liberazione (Milano: Jaca Book, 2018), 60. 18  Hanafi, La teologia islamica della liberazione, 2018, 60. 16 17

124

M. Campanini

7.3  After the Caliphate The classical, “orthodox” so to speak, form of the Islamic Empire has been the Caliphate-Imamate and we have seen how it could be a useful litmus paper to understand the dynamics of universalism and cosmopolitanism. Obviously, I have no room to fathom here all the complicated developments of the Caliphate in doctrine and practice. Perhaps, it is enough to discuss shortly Ibn Khaldūn (1332–1406). He has been the critical consciousness of the waning classical Muslim civilization and his theory of the Caliphate/Islamic State is worth re-considering because it can still teach us a lot.19 Ibn Khaldūn theorized the Caliphate as the perfect Islamic model of state although, as institution, the classical Umayyad or Abbasid Caliphates had bygone, and there was no possibility to renew them again. I hold that the historical experience of the Islamic world in his time led Ibn Khaldūn to argue that an involution from a political and ethical utopia into a patrimonial and tyrannical form of power (from khilāfa → to mulk) took place in Islamic political practice, along with a progressive secularization and atomization of power. Ibn Khaldūn envisaged two needs accordingly: renewing the utopia of the right Islamic government as the teleological end of politics on the one hand, and methodologically building up politics on the ground of philosophy, on the other hand. Ibn Khaldūn’s argument was that royal authority is the natural outcome of human constraints and of the social and political mechanism of the ‘aṣabiyya. Now, there are three kinds of royal authority or sovereignty (mulk): (1) natural sovereignty (mulk ṭabī‘ī), that is the pure tyrannical autocracy; (2) political or rational sovereignty (mulk siyāsī), corresponding to the secular and mundane state, ruled in accordance with rational principles; and finally (3) the caliphate (khilāfa), which is a rational and political mulk whose legislation is nevertheless of divine and revealed origin, a legislation the successor/caliph (khalīfa) of the legislator Prophet is fully engaged to defend and to implement. The Caliphate is the perfect form of royal authority, but in Ibn Khaldūn’s time natural sovereignty in the best cases and tyranny in the worst were dominating. The basis of royal authority was no more reason and morals, but force and egoism: royal authority requires superiority and force, which express the wrathful animal human nature. But force can turn right sovereignty into tyranny, while, we know, kingship cannot withstand and endure without justice. Actually, justice is the very foundation of government and sovereignty, but justice is lost in such a natural sovereignty scenario. Ibn Khaldūn contended then that the caliphate was more than a mulk: it was the Islamic model of state in which ‘aṣabiyya and religion were perfectly interwoven. This retrospective utopia was grounded upon a highly realistic and objective vision of history.20 The study of society through history and the study of politics are  Ibn Khaldūn, Muqaddima (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 1993); for an overview, see Robert Irwin, Ibn Khaldun. An Intellectual Biography (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2018). 20  See at least Abdallah Laroui, Islam et Modernité (Paris: La Découverte, 1987).

19

7  Universalism and Cosmopolitanism in Islam: The Idea of the Caliphate

125

interwoven, because politics is the core of society and society is the main object of historical inquiry. This is the reason why Ibn Khaldūn and Machiavelli have often been compared. An essential feature divides the two thinkers, however. While Ibn Khaldūn kept a substantial religious outlook, Machiavelli was persuaded that religion is simply a political instrument in order to manage power. Ibn Khaldūn’s argument confirms the now widely held historiographical trend (Marshall Hodgson, Ira Lapidus, Patricia Crone and Martin Hinds, Abdullah Saeed, and I dare to add myself)21 that sees in the early separation between the political authority and the religious function one of the main characteristics of the Islamic theory and praxis. There are both theoretical and historical reasons for this; Khaled Abou el-Fadl says, In Islamic history, the absence of an institutional Church ensured that religion could not monopolize or control the public sphere. Rather, religion or the representatives of sharī‘a law were always forced to compete to influence the public sphere in a variety of ways. Importantly, throughout Islamic history there has never been a single voice that represents the sharī‘a law or the canons of religion. Historically, the Islamic faith and sharī‘a law have been represented by several competing schools of theological and jurisprudential thought, the most powerful and notable of these organized into privately run professional guilds. Although the state often claimed to rule in God’s name, the legitimacy of such claims were challenged by these professional guilds.22

Pluralism of voices, as a natural characteristic of the Islamic pattern of thought, prevented a strict bound between religion and public power. Though the state claimed to be supported by religious law, it did not succeed in depriving the ‘ulamā’ of their religious authority or in silencing civil society. In the troubled circumstances of the present Muslim world’s disarray, secularization of power has been contested by contemporary Islamist trends which resumed both the idea of the Islamic state (the Caliphate) and the retrospective utopia of the Prophet’s perfect polity.23 Today, radical Sunni Islamic movements like the Salafis have systematically resumed the deformed perspective of the Islamic state’s retrospective utopia. The inflexibilities that can be detected in their social, juridical and political conceptions – including aberrant behaviours such as the application of corporal punishment or the marginalization of women – are grounded upon the conviction that it is necessary or sufficient to reproduce the conditions of the Prophet’s time as they were fifteen centuries ago to solve all the problems of Muslim societies.24

 See for example: Patricia Crone, Medieval Islamic Political Thought (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2004); Abdullah Saeed and S. Akbarzadeh, eds., Islam and Political Legitimacy (London, New  York: Routledge, 2003); Campanini, La politica nell’Islam. Un’interpretazione (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2019). 22  Khaled Abou el-Fadl, The Great Theft. Wrestling Islam from the Extremists (New York: Harper & Collins, 2005), 22. 23  See also Asma Afsaruddin, The First Muslims: History and Memory (Oxford: Oneworld, 2007). 24  Campanini, “The Utopian Dimension of a (Possible?) Islamic Philosophy of History”, in Claudia Gualtieri, ed., Utopia in the Present. Cultural Politics and Challenge (Bern: Peter Lang, 2018), 43–56. 21

126

M. Campanini

Admittedly, radical Sunni movements’ claim for an Islamic state in the contemporary historical situation enjoys two innovative (albeit not necessarily progressive) aspects: (a) On the one hand, it contradicts the traditional secularization of power in the context of Islamic practice and political thought, reviving an idea of theocracy which – as I have said – is not peculiar of classic Islamic thought. As Aziz al-­ Azmeh put it: It is a seldom appreciated fact that political exegesis of the Koran, that is reading the Koran as a whole for the purpose of constructing political theory, is a twentieth-century phenomenon associated with integralist Islamic fundamentalism, without precedent in the classical and medieval periods, just as the slogan ubiquitous today that Islam is at once “religion and state” is a product of the twentieth century.25

This crucial topic is a token of post-modernity in the Islamic state’s conception. (b) On the other hand, the radical claim for an Islamic state meets the contemporary challenge of elaborating an institutional political framework  within which “authentic” Islam can express itself. This is precisely the “Islamic state” the radicals are opposing as alternative to the modern (or post-modern) colonial-­ national state. After the end of colonization and the failure of the post-colonial states in Muslim countries, both in their liberal or socialist forms, the seizure of power by corrupted ruling élites, the growing social inequalities, and the ongoing neo-colonialist interference of the Western great powers, the myth of the Islamic state (the Caliphate-Imamate) – and its universalism and cosmopolitanism – appeared as the panacea for the radicals to solve present contradictions in an Islamic way.

7.4  Concluding Note The new functionality and political operability of the concept of the Islamic state is shared not only by radical movements but to a great extent by moderate Muslim intellectuals like those of the Waṣaṭiyya.26 This is the reason why the Islamic state’s and Caliphate’s issue must be discussed from renewed perspectives, following new paths, but recovering universalism and cosmopolitan tolerances of the past for comparisons and for future possible other patterns. Central today is the role of civil society wherein Islamic universalism and cosmopolitanism could find their natural space of expression, for civil society is the natural environment, so to speak, of Islamic universalism. The classical concept of umma is still valuable and cohesive

 Aziz Al-Azmeh, The Times of History: Universal Topics of Islamic Historiography (Budapest and New York: Central European University Press, 2007), 197. 26  Raymond Baker, Islam without Fear. Egypt and the New Islamists (Cambridge Mass. – London: Harvard University Press, 2003). 25

7  Universalism and Cosmopolitanism in Islam: The Idea of the Caliphate

127

but must be re-read and harmonized with those of citizenship and with the needs of the globalized international relations. It is not an impossible reform, although it obliges a profound re-consideration of a number of classical Islamic juridical and political thought patterns.27

References Abou el-Fadl, Khaled. 2005. The great theft. Wrestling Islam from the Extremists. New  York: Harper & Collins. Abu Rabi‘, Ibrahim. 2004. Contemporary Arab Thought: Studies in post-1967 Arab Intellectual History. London: Pluto Press. Afsaruddin, Asma. 2013. Striving in the Path of God. Jihad and Martyrdom in Islamic Thought. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Al-Azmeh, Aziz. 2007. The Times of History: Universal Topics of Islamic Historiography. Budapest/New York: Central European University Press. Al-Ghazālī, Abū Ḥāmid. 1994. Deliverance from Error. In The Faith and Practice of al-Ghazali. Oxford/Oneworld: William Montgomery Watt. Al-Na‘im, Abdullahi. 1990. Toward an Islamic Reformation: Civil Liberties, Human Rights and International Law. Syracuse: Syracuse University Press. Asma, Afsaruddin. 2007. The First Muslims. History and Memory. Oxford: Oneworld. Ayalon, David. 1996. Le Phénomene Mamelouk dans l'Orient Islamique. Paris: P.U.F. Baker, Raymond. 2003. Islam Without Fear. Egypt and the New Islamists. Cambridge, MA/ London: Harvard University Press. Campanini, Massimo. 2008. Ideologia e politica nell’Islam. Bologna: Il Mulino. ———. 2018. The Utopian Dimension of a (Possible?) Islamic Philosophy of History. In Utopia in the Present. Cultural Politics and Challenge, ed. Claudia Gualtieri, 43–56. Bern: Peter Lang. ———. 2019. La politica nell’Islam. Un’interpretazione. Bologna: Il Mulino. Crone, Patricia. 2004. Medieval Islamic Political Thought. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Dawisha, Adeed. 2002. Arab Nationalism in the Twentieth Century: From Triumph to Despair. Princeton University Press: Princeton. Donelli, Federico. 2017. Islam e pluralismo. La coabitazione religiosa nell’Impero ottomano. Milano-Firenze: Mondadori- Le Monnier. Enayat, Hamid. 1982. Modern Islamic Political Thought. Basingstoke/London: Macmillan. Hanafi, Hasan. 1995. Islam in the Modern World. Cairo: Anglo-Egyptian Bookshop. ———. 2018. La teologia islamica della liberazione. Milano: Jaca Book. Hourani, Albert. 1973. Arabic Thought in the Liberal Age. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Irwin, Robert. 2018. Ibn Khaldun. An Intellectual Biography. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Khaldūn, Ibn. 1993. Muqaddima. Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya. Laroui, Abdallah. 1987. Islam et Modernité. Paris: La Découverte. Mayer, Ann Elizabeth. 1991. Islam and Human Rights: Tradition and Politics. Boulder: Westview Press. Pagani, Samuela, ed. 2006. L’altro nella cultura araba. Messina: Mesogea. Peters, Rudolph. 1996. Jihad in Classical and Modern Islam. Princeton: Markus Wiener. Rahman, Fazlur. 1994. Major Themes in the Qur’an. Minneapolis: Biblioteca Islamica. Ramadan, Tariq. 2008. Islam, la réforme radical. Paris: Archipoche. Sachedina, Abdulaziz. 2001. The Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism. New  York/Oxford: Oxford University Press.

27

 See for example Tariq Ramadan, Islam, la réforme radical (Paris: Archipoche, 2008).

128

M. Campanini

Saeed, Abdullah, and Shahram Akbarzadeh, eds. 2003. Islam and Political Legitimacy. London/ New York: Routledge. Wahyudi, Yudian. 2003. Arab Responses to Hasan Hanafi's “Muqaddima fī ‘ilm al-istighrāṣb”. The Muslim World 93: 233–248.

Chapter 8

Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an Shabbir Akhtar

Abstract  Given the civic needs of open Western societies which respect pluralism, democracy and human rights, how should Christians read the Qur’an? I examine four major methods or ways on how Christians do read the Qur’an, and demonstrate that all are inappropriate to the needs of our modern secular democracies. These are often allied to approaches that use the mask of revisionist scholarship to conceal malice and irrational hatred of Islamic values. First, major Christian methods that approach Islam, the Qur’an, and the Prophet Muhammad could be entitled as follows, successively in this chapter: the non/reception method, the externalization method, the rejection method, and the paternalist method. Examples of such methods will be referred to. Second, a further examination of revisionist scholarship and literature shows other methods of approaching Islam and its sacred text and prophet; here, five other methods are outlined, which intertwine with the first four methods; these five are as follows: the Qur’an’s alleged misunderstanding of Christian dogmas method, the radical skepticism of the origins of Islam method, the Qur’an’s half-way to truth method, the Qur’an’s unoriginality method, and Muhammad as a messenger for the Arabs only method. Critical comments follow each of these methods, as a way of overcoming biases and prejudices that nurture Islamophobia and right-wing parties and populist movements. Keywords  Christian methods · Reception of the Qur’an · Externalization of Islam · Rejection of Islam · Kenneth Cragg · Samuel Zwemer · Mark Robert Anderson

S. Akhtar (*) Regent’s Park College, University of Oxford, Oxford, UK e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_8

129

130

S. Akhtar

8.1  Introduction Muslims affirm that the Qur’an’s author, the only God, directly addresses readers to endorse Muhammad’s claim to be a divinely inspired universal messenger. Through the Qur’an, the Prophet of Islam proclaims for the last time and forever the monotheism of Abraham. Christians and Muslims read the Qur’an from opposed motives and motivations. Muslims rarely if ever study the Bible even though the Qur’an mentions the Bible (Torah and Gospel as roughly the old and the new testaments). Most Muslims see no point in studying the Bible. Why? Unlike the Qur’an, which is self-described as God’s word, the Bible contains no analogously direct divine invitation to faith in God – for God is not the speaker. Many Christians study the Qur’an even though the Bible does not mention the Qur’an. Such Christians deduce from the Bible the correct biblical position on the Qur’an’s claims - just as (Sunni) Muslims never hesitate to dismiss post-Qur’anic claims to revelation, such as the ones made by the Ahmadiyyah sect, officially declared apostate by orthodox Sunni Islam, or the ones made by the originally Shi‘ite sect of the Baha’is, who themselves later opted to leave Islam. The Bible rejects Islam implicitly; the Qur’an explicitly denounces parts of some Christian doctrines. If Christianity were fully true, then Judaism and Islam would each be only partly true. The complete truth of Christian dogmas would imply the fulfillment and thus supersession of Judaism, the discarded parent. This classical replacement theology has long faced the problem of the post-Christian faith of Islam. This upstart teenager, so to speak, needs to know his or her proper place at the banquet. In this paper I assess the approach of Christian students of Islam, those who declare their faith, or whose faith is evident from their ecclesiastical titles and allegiances. These scholars and writers avow their faith as part of their method but would reject my claim that such faith-based approach crucially biases their attitude to Islam. I do not deal here with methods of inquiry used by secular scholars, often Marxists, who have ideology but no faith. They dismiss all Semitic scriptures as ancient propaganda and deplore the details of their enduring rivalry as juvenile tribal bigotry. Nor do I assess those with no declared faith, or those who have faith but are clearly not motivated by it in their work on Islam. In this age of devious and insidious inter-faith tactical polemic, I must add that no true Muslim would use any Christian methods to read the Qur’an. I do not deal here with such unorthodox and heretical Muslims and ex-Muslims who might be sympathetic to such Christian strategies, perhaps as fellow co-conspirators, in an attempt to undermine Sunni orthodoxy. Some contemporary methods continue to reflect the past colonial missionary efforts of white nations that wished to colonize and civilize the non-Western, especially the Islamic, world. The location of this perceived Christian obligation has shifted and narrowed. The proudly Christian colonialist Rudyard Kipling defined it generically as ‘the white man’s burden’. Now it falls only on the shoulders of the missionary Western Christian scholar, male or female. Strident forms of this

8  Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an

131

approach have currently resurfaced in the efforts of popular evangelical missionaries from prosperous and militarily powerful Western nations. These are allied to approaches that use the mask of so-called revisionist historical scholarship about Islamic origins to conceal malice and irrational hatred of Islamic teachings and values. Given the civic needs of open Western societies which respect pluralism, democracy and human rights, how should Christians read the Qur’an? I examine four major methods or ways on how Christians do read the Qur’an, and demonstrate that all are inappropriate to the needs of our modern secular democracies. These are often allied to approaches that use the mask of revisionist scholarship to conceal malice and irrational hatred of Islamic values. First, major Christian methods that approach Islam, the Qur’an, and the Prophet Muhammad could be entitled as follows, successively in this chapter: the non/reception method, the externalization method, the rejection method, and the paternalist method. Examples of such methods will be referred to. Second, a further examination of revisionist scholarship and literature shows other methods of approaching Islam and its sacred text and prophet; here, five other methods are outlined, which intertwine with the first four methods; these five are as follows: the Qur’an’s alleged misunderstanding of Christian dogmas method, the radical skepticism of the origins of Islam method, the Qur’an’s half-way to truth method, the Qur’an’s unoriginality method, and Muhammad as a messenger for the Arabs only method. Critical comments follow each of these methods, as a way of overcoming biases and prejudices that nurture Islamophobia and right-wing parties and populist movements.

8.2  The Non/Reception of the Qur’an The Qur’an poses for Christians a challenge and a permanent puzzle. It is a scandal just as the cross was a scandal in the eyes of Jews and Gentiles alike, and indeed still scandalizes Muslims. The predicament of conscientious and fair-minded Christians who read the Qur’an finds no analogue among Muslims, with similar dispositions, who study the Bible. Seldom do Muslims take any interest in the Bible. They believe that the case against Christian dogmas has been closed – and closed by God some 1400 years ago. For Muslims, the persistence of Christianity in a post-Islamic world remains, charitably speaking, evidence of God’s irregular grace and, less charitably, of determined Christian perversity in the face of the evident superiority of Islam. Christians are not restrained by any clear biblical strictures in their assessment of the Qur’an. Muslims are, by contrast, religiously obliged to reject certain central Christian ecclesial claims. These are asymmetrical situations. Muslims do not see their situation as a predicament since Islam adequately explains the existence of its two revealed predecessors. Christianity is not a scandal, only a partial mistake. Christians commit the one irremissible sin, that of shirk: compromising the one true God’s sole and exclusive deity by associating Him with any created being. Christians deify a created being called Jesus Christ.

132

S. Akhtar

Jesus Christ’s appearance has caused strife and dissension not only in his own day (Matt.10.34-5; Q61.14) but forever afterwards. His appearance shook the turbulent tree of history. Muhammad has also continued to shake its many branches, causing the bitter fruits of disunity to fall on the heads of the family members of the faiths of Near Eastern origin (see Q5.51; 9.23-24; 48.29; 60.1). Muslims accept some 50% of what mainstream Christians affirm about Jesus – most claims about his life, work, mission, miracles and messianic status, claims found in the Synoptic Gospels. Muslims reject the crucial dogmas of Christology enshrined in the historic creeds of the Church, based on implicit references in John and in both the authentic and disputed Pauline epistles. Muslims share with Christians about one half of their views – but Christians think it is the wrong half. Muslims hold a competing estimate of Jesus Christ’s work and nature: he was neither God incarnate nor the Son of God but rather God’s servant and messenger. He was the Seal of the Prophets of Israel, being the last one to be sent to them. No messengers came after him until the Arabian Apostle, the Seal of the Prophets, sent to all humanity, Jew and Gentile (Q33.40). Jesus is Muhammad’s most important precursor: he predicts Muhammad’s advent (see Q61.6) and will also play a role in Islamic eschatology, a role whose details are based on contested traditions of the Prophet rather than on clear Qur’anic assertions. Jesus was a ‘muslim’, a prophet submitted to God’s will. He anticipated the coming of Muhammad whose advent would finally consummate sacred history by ushering in the Kingdom of God on Earth. Continuity of revelation and of prophecy are key Qur’anic doctrines which inform the Muslim understanding of the Bible. The New Testament (injīl) is a sequel to the Torah; the Qur’an is a sequel to both. The Western and Western Christian verdict is that the Qur’an must be a work of human authorship, one that does not succeed in its aims. Why? It fails to hit its intended targets: it does not successfully attack Christianity. The author’s aims are confused. The book says something other than what Muslims claim it says. It either says more - by unwittingly exalting Jesus above Muhammad. Or it says less than it should - by humiliating the real Jesus even though Muslims claim the Qur’an honours the real Jesus of history whose nature and ministry have been misunderstood by Christians. The Muslim scripture may then inadvertently support the very rival it ostensibly seeks to attack. The author of the book is a confused stutterer, so to speak, not the eloquent divine speaker of Muslim orthodoxy. Finally, Westerners, in particular committed Christians, Jews and liberals, feel either religiously or morally obliged to reject the message of the Qur’an. They try to refute what they see as its dangerous but regrettably enduringly influential claims which claim the right to direct even modern lives in their billions.

8  Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an

133

8.3  Externalization: Islam Is a False Faith Ever since the birth of historical Islam, most Christians have seen it as, at best, an inferior form of Christianity, a heresy driven by a rivalry between the descendants of Isaac and Ishmael. The view that Islam is a false faith with a dangerous imperial political potential, a colonial and missionary rival to Christianity, has ancient pedigree. In Islam’s formative stage, seven years before the hijrah [migration] to Medina, Muslim refugees from Mecca sought asylum in Christian Abyssinia. The ruler of that nation, along with his bishops, approved of the Meccan Qur’anic portrait of Zechariah, John, Mary and Jesus found in surah 19. The historic middle eastern churches have not all been hostile to Islam. Soon after the start of imperial Islamic history in 632 AD, however, dismissals of Islam, its Prophet and Book, were motivated by alarm at Islam’s irresistibly powerful military presence on all Christian frontiers. Apocalyptic Christian literature produced at the time denounced Islam as demonic and diabolical, the revenge of the Ishmaelites (Arabs) against the chosen line of Isaac. Byzantine (Eastern) Christianity resembled Islam: both endorsed a theology of temporal power. The hostility of Latin (Western) Christendom begins with the Crusades and reaches a climax in the age of European imperialism whose heyday was 150 years (1798 to 1948). Most Muslims believe that the Crusades never ended.1 Most Christian methods of investigating the Qur’an are inspired by one crucial attitude: Islam must not be taken seriously on its own terms. Its adherents’ own account of their faith, doctrine and history, must be rejected. The arguments given vary in their subtlety, soundness and accompany varied morally questionable attitudes. Some modern methods, subversive of Islam, rely on conspiracy theories about Islamic origins, self-indulgent accounts suitably masked as scholarship. We know where the bodies are buried! Each faith says that to the rival: we know your weak points. A striking variant motivated by the above attitude described in the opening of the above paragraph is a method guided by the axiom that the scripture of Islam contains concealed testimony to the truth of the Bible in a way that undermines its own claim to be a comprehensive truth. Thus the Islamic scripture not only shares some truths with the Bible, as the Qur’an itself claims to do, it unintentionally attests to the superiority of the Christian vision that it ostensibly seeks to reject. The Qur’an is self-defeating since its claims, understood properly, support the rival stance. Sometimes this is said to be evident from merely reading the surface of the text; at other times, it emerges only when the Qur’an is probed and mined, by an alert Christian, who is seeking religious truths located at the level of our ultimate ideals and subconscious human yearnings.

1  See Norman Daniel, Islam and the West (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1960), a classic analysis of the hostility between Christians and Muslims since the earliest days.

134

S. Akhtar

Such views and their attendant methods are motivated by confessional motives rather than academically respectable grounds. At best, such views misrepresent or even torture and distort the Qur’an’s clear message and, at worst, such views are patronizing and condescending. Approaches can, however, be critical but appreciative and scholarly, expressed in politically correct language, displaying scholarly courtesy and aiming at academic objectivity - but such perspectives remain nonetheless discernibly motivated by some residual, perhaps subliminal, anxiety and hostility, even malice and envy. Works now published by confessional publishing houses are primarily apologetic but usually avoid shallow polemic. These works raise profound and cardinal issues and seek, understandably, to show the superiority of the Christian offer of salvation. All lack clear concessions to Islam; most committed Christians remain singularly and unaccountably reluctant to admit that the Qur’an may contain some distinctively important spiritual truths. One possible exception here was the late Anglican Bishop Kenneth Cragg (1913–2012). In a class of his own, he had a uniquely stylish approach to Islam. His prose was literary, somewhat turgid, overly adorned, his stance marked by equivocal comments about the challenge of Islam, especially at key junctures in his contention for the faith of his forefathers. All the methods mentioned so far seek the same missionary goals but vary in regard to how frank their practitioners are in proclaiming this ambition. These methods share the view that it is legitimate to use one’s own confession as a criterion to assess the Islamic rival. As I shall demonstrate below, the methods differ concerning whether or not, and to what extent, this guiding attitude is revealed or concealed by the practitioners.

8.4  Rejection: Islam Is from the Devil The early Christians thought that Islam must be inspired by the Devil. Its Prophet must be the anti-Christ since God had, in Christ, already reconciled the world to Himself. Christ’s finality and sufficiency marked the climax of sacred history. Such simple polemic cites reasons solely from authoritative, confessional, including interpreted biblical, sources. It preaches crassly to the converted. Such simplistic apologetics merely affirms rather than contends for the Christian hope and hypothesis. In secular terms, such a method is spiteful and often retarded while in Christian parlance it bears false witness against the alien. It slanders Muhammad and his community. It is unchristian. This ancient view is still influential, mirrored in modern exchanges, especially internet skirmishes conducted by some American and other evangelicals. It is not academic scholarship but rather polemical and sensationalist journalism and preaching - but it is far more influential than mere academic research. Insidiously, however, parts of it resemble the more respectable works of academic scholarship. Only in its most frank and explicit form does this method border on hate literature.

8  Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an

135

Ancient polemic becomes modern crude apologetics. It is the staple diet of churches which take refugees from among Pakistani Christians. Thus, Muhammad was an epileptic sent only to the Arabs. He suffered from an inferiority complex when he encountered Jews and Christians and therefore wrote an Arabic ‘scripture’. He made blunders about Jewish and Christian doctrines – and therefore these monotheists turned against him and mocked him. Afterwards, he made camp all by himself and shouted through the Qur’an: ‘I will show you.’ He became violent and added that all prophecy culminated in him. An apparently friendly and psychologically intriguing version of this claim is that Islam witnesses to the truth of Christianity! The rival is not really a rival but rather a friend in disguise. Muhammad was a confused preacher. The Qur’an can be mined to prove that Jesus Christ is superior to Muhammad: the natural climax of Islam is Christianity. In particular, Meccan Islam, a powerless persecuted faith, is inferior grade Christianity and therefore worthy of some respect. The Medinan Islam, however, is a betrayal of an original partly true faith. Muhammad was corrupted by power and sex. A polite modern variant of this view is found in Kenneth Cragg’s writings.2 We shall explore Cragg’s method and its consequences in Sect. 8.5 below. Here we note that the polemical quarrying of the Qur’an is used to locate any materials that might serve to establish Christian superiority - as if the purpose of the Qur’an’s advent was to confirm core Christian beliefs rather than challenge them. This method cites selectively from the Qur’an, freely quoting, misquoting, and misinterpreting the Qur’an in order to show the superiority of Christianity to Islam. One finds this approach on evangelical websites and in the preaching of some pastors in inner city areas crowded with mosques and veiled Muslim women. The claim is that there is no need to preach the Gospel to Muslims or to ask them to read the Bible. If they read their own scripture with some care, they would see that Jesus was greater than Muhammad and, moreover, that only the Bible does justice to the Christ sketched out so haphazardly in the Qur’an. For example, it has been routinely but gratuitously claimed by some popular evangelical preachers that the Night of Power (Q97.1), the late Ramadan night of the Qur’an’s initial revelation, is really Christmas, in honour of the birth of Emmanuel, God with us (Jesus)!3 It is pointed out that the Qur’anic Jesus is, unlike the Arabian apostle, born of a virgin. Jesus speaks from the very day of his birth (Q19.30) while Muhammad spoke as a prophet only at the age of forty. ‘Muhammadology’ will always be, some Sufi adoration apart, low compared to even the lowest of Christologies. More broadly, the Qur’an admits that the Children of Israel were favoured and elected by Allah, that the line of Isaac was blessed and preferred (Q12.6). I end with two observations that help us traverse this complex and hostile terrain. Critical biblical scholarship produced by Christians and Jews shows that the Bible

 I list and critique Cragg’s works in Islam as Political Religion (London: Routledge, 2010).  The irony is that Jesus was not, in fact, born in late December!

2 3

136

S. Akhtar

is marred by historical and factual errors. However, many conservative Christians continue to use it to assess the factual and historical claims found in a rival scripture. This was commonplace, almost axiomatic, in the past.4 Only evangelical and other extremely conservative Christians – who uphold the inerrancy of scripture – would now cite a discrepancy between the Bible and the Qur’an as automatic proof (or at least evidence) that it is the Qur’an which got its historical facts wrong. Secondly, the evangelical use of the Qur’an to prove core  – distinctively  – Christian doctrines that are explicitly and repeatedly denied in the Qur’an is irresponsible and juvenile. Equally, I urge Muslims, eager for biblical confirmation of key Qur’anic claims, admittedly a religious duty for Muslims (Q21.7), to do so by mining and weighing evidence, without torturing the plain meaning of biblical passages as interpreted by Christian commentators. Thus, Muslims must defend carefully the startling Qur’anic assertion that the Torah and the Gospel both endorsed military jihad no less than the Qur’an (see Q9.111) or that Muhammad was predicted in both testaments of the bible (Q7.157). Some Muslim apologists assemble Islam’s five pillars from selected biblical verses. This is not, however, unreasonable since confession, prayer, fasting, alms and charity, and pilgrimage, in some form, whether mandated by holy law or encouraged by divine moral admonition, are generic features of Abrahamic monotheism.

8.5  Paternalism 8.5.1  The Case of Kenneth Cragg and Samuel Zwemer Kenneth Cragg (1913–2012) contended that the Qur’an cannot mean only what it claims to mean. It is partly true – but not wholly true on its own terms. God’s law is good but tragically it fails to achieve its own purposes. This failure of the law necessitates Christ’s grace. Indeed, a proper understanding of Islam implies the truth of Christianity: what Islam promises is fulfilled only in the Christ. Countless rejected and apparently failed prophets, ruined cities, the law flouted repeatedly: what do all these realities jointly insinuate? That only grace, in suffering love, can accomplish God’s salvific task in the human heart. This verdict was repeated endlessly  – with increasing stridency and lack of grace – in a cascade of books and articles published over some seventy years, mostly after Cragg returned from the Middle East. Cragg saw the Qur’an as a preparation for the Gospel, despite coming, unlike the Torah and Judaism, after the Gospel. Cragg overlooks the fact that Muhammad succeeded, and that God’s grace supplements, not replaces God’s law. To seek to prioritize law and grace is misguide since 4  In the recent past, influential critics of the Qur’an, scholars such as Abraham Geiger, simply assumed that the Bible served to correct the errors in the Qur’an. See Geiger’s explanation of the discrepancy between Q28.21-28 and Exod.2.15-21 in Brannon Wheeler, Moses in the Quran and Islamic Exegesis (London: Routledge, 2002), p. 38.

8  Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an

137

it is a false dichotomy. Nothing, retorts Cragg, can replace God’s all-sufficient grace; Muhammad’s success was spiritually unworthy. And God’s grace must be God’s grace in Christ. Or it is all in vain. Cragg reasoned, in effect and in intention, that the Qur’an is internally inconsistent: it preaches the unqualified greatness of God – Allahu akbar – while effectively denying this very greatness. How so? Answer: by stipulating that God cannot be any greater than a being who sends prophets and exacts divine retribution from a perpetually recalcitrant humanity. What could prevent Allah, muses Cragg, from being the even greater god who suffers, suffers unjustly, suffers voluntarily and thereby redeems the sinful world. Now this is true greatness indeed! Why does the Qur’an veto the very possibility of the incarnation, understood as the voluntary and loving self-annihilation of one aspect of the triune Godhead, in the ultimate interests of redeeming and saving a sin-addicted humanity? Cragg contended that the Qur’an conceals a deep yearning for a friendship, indeed fellowship, with God that only the worship of God in Christ could secure. It was a gracious intimacy, rooted in virtuous conduct, beyond the law. Islam salutes such mystical intimacy so long as God’s uniqueness and transcendence are not compromised in the process, as these are by the incarnation. Cragg’s view is an example of religious paternalism: we treat the Muslim’s self-­understanding as resembling the child who knows only his or her wishes, not his or her best interests. Cragg has much to teach Muslims and, like most other Europeans of his generation, nothing to learn from the natives. It is a shame that Cragg did not see it fit to learn from Islam when he lived at a time when churches in the West were emptying while the overflowing mosques of European inner cities were bringing the Friday traffic to a halt not only in Cairo but also in Bradford and New York. The self-understanding of the Islamic stance is being dismissed a priori – that is, for prior theologically motivated reasons whose truth is treated as axiomatic. This attitude betrays Cragg’s real intent: to prepare Christians for the task of proselytizing Muslims by claiming that Muslims do not fully understand their own faith. If they did, they would become Christians. Cragg never seriously entertained the view that the Qur’an understands Christianity and rejects it nonetheless as essentially untrue. Of course, Cragg himself has no difficulties understanding Islam and yet rejecting it as false. Cragg’s missionary aim of conversion is, in effect, achieved by the apparently more innocent theological ambition of mining Islam to find doctrines that make it resemble Christianity and thereby undermine its integrity as an autonomous rival rather than merely a preparatory and incomplete form of Christianity. Cragg seeks to subvert Islam rather than directly converting Muslims! He tried desperately to Christianize Islam, by regularly privileging the views of Muslims who are seen as marginal or deviant by their fellow believers. It would be analogous to a Muslim claiming that only liberal scholarly ‘Christians’, such as Rudold Bultmann (1884–1976) and Don Cupitt (b. 1934), had got it all right. A disciple of Cragg might retort: Does not the Qur’an Islamize Christianity and Judaism? No. It openly rejects them as humanly contrived deviations from the revealed primordial

138

S. Akhtar

faith of islam, from strict Noahide and Abrahamic monotheism. That is an historical claim, verifiable through evidence, not a subtle or devious method of subversion. One finds in Western post-Enlightenment secular academic inquiry a parallel to the tempting but polemical inter-faith idea that an outsider’s view of a belief or practice is more objective than that of the participants’ own view of their faith. Thus, a second-order secular meta-narrative about a faith, a conceptual analysis of its key concepts and practices, is considered truer than any traditional or inherited view which is robustly supernatural or metaphysical. Some philosophers of language have claimed that religious people do not know the true status of their own faith claims. Only second-order analyses offered by such philosophers yield the truth about what religious people are really saying, when they innocently engage in first-order religious speech about God, faith, eternal life and so on.5 Cragg marginalizes Qur’anic aspirations that he finds unacceptable even when these are central to Islam. In parallel, he chooses some totally unrepresentative Muslims and makes their voices central to a true Islam. Thus, martyrs such as Sayyid Qutb (1906–1966) are ruthlessly probed and found to be lacking in certain Christian virtues, especially their refusal to countenance tragedy as a valid response to life’s vicissitudes. Instead, Cragg shows some sympathy for his persecutors who were openly indifferent, if not hostile, to Islamic faith and practice. Cragg’s strategies, used to align the Qur’an with alien Christian norms, effectively marginalize, attenuate and eviscerate the contents of that autonomous scripture. Cragg accuses the Qur’an of doing the same to the true Jesus. For Cragg, Islam effectively started life as a defective Jewish or Christian heresy. Cragg sometimes hints that it was a shame that Muhammad did not become a bishop, perhaps owing to a failing of Christian mission in seventh century Arabia. The late bishop’s work often reads as one long lament: if only Islam were Christianity! If we are dealing with the casual brutality of history, we cannot detain ourselves with the fantasy of a world that might have been more congenial to our wishes. This frustration turned to despair in his monographs and articles published in the last two decades of his century-long life, and especially after 9/11. However, Cragg also explained to Westerners Islam’s appeal to Muslims at a time, after the second world war, when few understood this religion’s enduring spiritual power and nascent post-imperial political potential. Virtually, the entire Muslim world had been colonized and emasculated by Western powers. Cragg’s views were, however, in a final twist, a subtle and courteous extension of the prevalent colonialist mentality, though he never perceived, certainly never acknowledged, this crucial limitation in his thought. In effect, he was merely preparing his own community for the more effective evangelization of Muslims in the face of countless failed attempts of the past. Predictably, Cragg had marked sympathy for the plight of Christian Arabs, especially Palestinian Christians and Egyptian Copts. He saw such middle eastern Christians as doubly victims - of Zionist Israel and of emergent revivalist anti-colonial Islam.

 For details, see my The Light in the Enlightenment (London: Grey Seal/Cassell, 1990).

5

8  Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an

139

Cragg’s method has pragmatic strengths in our polarized world. It increases sympathy for Islam by suggesting that it is an essentially similar if deficient version of one’s own Christian faith - rather than a coherent, autonomous and therefore threatening rival, a true alternative to Christian certainties. It is analogous to the way that Islam in Protestant Britain might be seen as resembling a superstitious and especially fervent form of Catholicism  – this being said as a compliment. It would reduce the foreignness of Islam in Western eyes. I see Cragg as the American missionary Samuel Zwemer’s English counterpart and inheritor. Agonizing over the spiritually stony and infertile Arab desert soil, Zwemer (1867–1952) was convinced that Islam was simply an error. Cragg was more sympathetic; he sought and found some genuine and some spurious affinities with Christianity while yearning for more such alignments and liaisons. Unlike the simple-minded and single-minded Zwemer, Cragg was intellectually bifocal, virtually schizophrenic, in his perspective on the Qur’an’s enduring challenge to his own faith.

8.5.2  The Case of Mark Robert Anderson After these two seminal missionaries, we can find frank and more readily intelligible defences of Cragg’s ulterior and ultimate aims in the work of Christian apologists such as Mark Robert Anderson, a Canadian Christian active in the Levant.6 Like some other missionaries active among Muslims, he openly states his faith position and then meticulously critiques the Qur’an and the man who brought it.7 Estimates of the rival scripture’s key claims are made without the paraphernalia of undue literary and stylized sentences or any tedious regard for excessive courtesy. Islam is indeed seductive but essentially false, though it need not be demonized using scurrilous language. For gentlemanly polemicists such as Anderson, Jesus is humiliated, not honoured in the Qur’an. He is eccentric and needy, always asking his disciples to help him. The Qur’anic God is irritated and annoyed by him. Since Muslims make a claim to the messiah, they would be shocked by these allegations.8 A telltale sign of an erroneous method is to locate a higher Christology in the Qur’an than is warranted by that scripture’s total message. Some Christians are tempted to do this. So are some Muslims.9 Some christianize Islam by mining  Mark Robert Anderson, The Quran in Context: A Christian Exploration (Downer’s Grove, Illinois: IVP Academic, 2016). 7  Such Christians include David Marshall, Dan Madigan, Richard Schumack, and Gordon Nickel. 8  See my Finding and Following Jesus: The Muslim Claim on the Messiah. Yaqeen American Islamic research magazine, December 24, 2018b. At: https://yaqeeninstitute.org/shabbir-akhtar/ finding-and-following-jesus-the-muslim-claim-to-the-messiah/#.Xfn57C-ZPfY 9  See Mahmoud Ayoub, “Towards an Islamic Christology II” in Irfan A. Omar (ed.), A Muslim View of Christianity (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2007), pp. 156–183. Such a high Christology is not 6

140

S. Akhtar

i­ncidental references in the Qur’an and assigning too much weight to them. This attempt to make excessive and unwarranted concessions to the Christian rival becomes a false basis for establishing Christian-Muslim relations. Equally, to locate a lower Christology than is warranted by the Islamic scripture, to suggest, as Anderson does, that the Qur’anic portrait cuts Jesus down to size and puts him in its place, and insults the real Jesus – uncritically if not axiomatically identified as the New Testament Jesus - is to encourage unnecessary hostility between the world’s two religious super powers.10 Supporters of this approach defend a maximally conservative view of the Bible’s origins and contents while subjecting the Qur’an to the most hyperbolic and modern secular liberal sceptical objections, both about its provenance and subject matter. Typically, practitioners of this method force the Qur’an to endure ordeal by secular reason as they engage in a prejudicially rigorous scrutiny of its claims about women and sacred violence. By contrast, no contextually analogous biblical claims are critiqued  – biblical verses about slavery, ancient Jewish and Christian societies in Canaan or first century Palestine or Byzantium. “Canaan: every land is Canaan. So conquer it.” Such scholars excuse violence in the Hebrew Bible and highlight it in the Qur’an and in Muhammad’s life as a general: Muslims set out to conquer if not convert the whole world. Fair enough. But to say that the Old Testament mandate for violent dispossession of the Canaanites was limited to those people is to overlook the way that Western colonizers saw every virgin territory as a new Canaan to be conquered, a new promised land to be annexed. Thus, biblical claims are shielded by a protective lenience while the Qur’an’s endure the full force of secular modernity. Anderson reinforces his critique by arguing that Muslims live in a ‘shame and honour’ culture - as if these were values foreign to Western nations which exact vengeance quite enthusiastically to vindicate their honour during military conflict with Muslim peoples worldwide. Muslims readily note such shameful double standards of justice.

8.6  Qur’an’s Alleged Misunderstanding of Christian Dogmas A view popular among frustrated missionaries with academic pretensions is that the Qur’an does not really reject orthodox Christian claims, but rejects only deviant and heretical ones that the contemporaneous and later historic churches also rejected as false. Concerning doctrines such as the Trinity and the Incarnation, the Qur’an simply misunderstands the dogmas it intends to attack while its denial of the crucifixion

supported by the Qur’an. 10  For more on Christology, especially Lukan Christology and the Qur’an, see my An Islamic View of Christian Origins, forthcoming from Routledge. This work is a sequel to my The New Testament in Muslim Eyes (London: Routledge, 2018a).

8  Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an

141

is only apparent, being found only in one passage which invites controversial domestic commentary. The Qur’an certainly rejects certain Christian heresies, core orthodox Christian dogmas, and the two-tier biblical history of salvation, the election of ethnic Israel first, followed by its universal mission to be a light to the Gentiles. The Qur’an reveals that divine guidance was always available, from the beginning, to Jews and Gentiles alike  – to the entire monogenetic human race, simply in virtue of their humanity, not their ethnic belonging. The Islamic scripture repeatedly condemns the notion that God has a son or any children – a criticism levelled at Christians and Arab pagans alike. ‘God neither begets nor is begotten’ (Q112.3). This verse, repudiating the Christian creed as blasphemous mythology, must read as a custom-made insult to the Christian creed. It was probably revealed in the aftermath of some Christian assertion about Jesus being the son of God – and in the aftermath of some pagan Arabs attributing angels to Him as daughters. The notion of physical paternity is rejected by Christians and Muslims alike but there is no reason to suppose that the Qur’an implicitly accepts spiritual paternity given its denial that God has any partners in his divinity. The level of sophistication and subtlety among Christologists and thinkers of the early church, during the first four centuries of intense internal debate over theological minutiae, is striking. It would therefore be unfair to expect the Qur’an, a scripture that is more interested in law and applied ethics than in speculative metaphysics and theology, to deny only precisely worded formulations that recruited and exhausted centuries of inter-­ denominational strife and ecclesial ingenuity.

8.7  Radical Skepticism: the Origins of Islam Are Dubious A wholly unacceptable method is inspired by a radically revisionist scepticism about the Qur’an and Islam’s origins. The Qur’an cannot be reliably associated with any known historical figure. The Muhammad of Islamic history and his Qur’an are obscure phenomena that rise out of an historical vacancy. But this does not mean, contra the Muslims, that the Qur’an is therefore a miracle. It means rather that we do not know when or how these realities shaped classical history. We must deconstruct the received Islamic account and reconstruct a novel perspective.11 This view is motivated by envy and prejudice, not objective research into Islamic origins. Such a self-indulgent and arbitrarily prejudicial perspective gratuitously rejects wholesale the traditional Muslim historical self-understanding in favour of an alien and hostile external estimate and assessment. This outlook can be  The late Patricia Crone, the late Rev. Keith Small, the late Andrew Rippin all held a version of this view as do Tom Holland, Nicolai Sinai, and Gabriel Said Reynolds. Many were inspired by the John Wansbrough school of Quranic studies. Some scholars have deserted this camp, realizing that it is embarrassingly juvenile to think that Islam, like Christianity, began life as a Jewish messianic movement!

11

142

S. Akhtar

supplemented by literary works that present a revisionist history masked as fictional reconstruction.12 The contention that the Muslim historical self-understanding is mistaken serves Jewish and Christian interests. While such agnostic/atheist orientalist methods do not appeal to the authority of the Bible, their findings undermine Islam and thus indirectly support the Judeo-Christian rival. Such hyperbolic scepticism about Islamic origins and about the contents of the Qur’an effectively reduces the Qur’an to a wholly derivative document of an unoriginal and upstart faith. This sceptical view of Islamic history is often combined with an indefensibly conservative view of Christian origins, a fact that betrays the method’s hidden malice and prejudice against Islam. Christian scholars who approve of such revisionism marry a conservative and largely untenable view of the Bible’s origins and canonical status with a maximally and indefensibly revisionist view of Islamic scriptural origins. The Qur’an even becomes simply very late Christian apocrypha! The canon-­ apocrypha distinction is invalid for the Qur’an. Revisionist historians try to create a Qur’anic apocrypha by exaggerating the number of minor variant readings, all in any case fully authorized by Islamic tradition from the very beginning. This is hardly comparable to the history of extensive and intrusive biblical redaction which is acknowledged by liberal Christian scholars. A radically revisionist account of the Qur’an’s origin and transmission is externally produced and then imposed on Muslims. None of it is produced by any authentic Muslim scholar, no matter how liberal. Such hyperbolic orientalist scepticism is a form of intellectual racism. It is part of a larger trend to question the occurrence of any lenient and tolerant periods of Islamic hegemony in history, seeking to deny the achievements of Islamic civilization and pretending that the Islamic record is every bit as deplorable as the worst periods of Christian history. Thus, Muslims also committed genocides too. The lenient ascendancy of Islam is only a myth created by self-hating anti-Christian liberal Europeans. Such a dishonest, intolerant and uncharitable attitude has no place in objective scholarship. Along with protection against blasphemy, the revisionist school should be discouraged, and boycotted within academia, though it would be hard to get it legally banned. It is analogous to Holocaust denial, a crime in some open societies otherwise vigorously committed to the defence of free speech. The evidence for the traditional view of Islam’s origins is incontrovertible although, as in the parallel case of the Holocaust, details are debatable and subject to indefinite research and scrutiny. These should be disputed publicly in a safe research space. But the attempt to generate an artificial and maliciously motivated historical debate is, in both cases, based on fabrication, lies, and willful distortion of solid available evidence to the  Salman Rushdie’s Satanic Verses (London: Viking, 1988) is the best example of this trend. For a refutation, see my Be Careful with Muhammad! (London: Bellew, 1989). Until the publication of my book, it was assumed that all experts on Islam are non-Muslims, never the Muslims themselves, since they could not be trusted to be objective. Does not visceral hostility to Islam also lead to bias, no less than commitment to it, albeit in the opposite direction? Is it only a choice between prejudices?

12

8  Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an

143

contrary. The motivation is malice, not the quest for truth. Propaganda can be masked as scholarship and serve partisan political interests. The debate about Islamic origins and early history, as we saw during the Rushdie affair, is no academic debate. It is not like debating, for example, the exact date of the foundations of the Roman empire, a debate that might distress some Italian fascists of the Mussolini era. Claims about Islamic origins affect billions of people and cause them immense pain and agony. Moreover, we know that this denial of the Islamic narrative is a dog-whistle for other pernicious views such as Islamophobia. (It is no coincidence that Rushdie, the anti-racism campaigner, had right-wing racist supporters.) Such pseudo-scholarship can be exploited and recruited as a tool by racist political parties in Europe’s far right parties. Polemical ‘scholarship’ accompanies and correlates with and sometimes even causes racist stereotyping followed by actual, not merely rhetorical, violence, against the targeted group. Thus, for instance, future policies against migrants in Germany, the home of such revisionist historical scholarship, may be aligned with the findings of such ‘research.’ Claims that are not founded on evidence cannot be refuted by counter-evidence. They are based on irrational hatred and prejudice and should therefore be mocked, ridiculed and dismissed just as their proponents dismiss the entire Muslim tradition as mistaken. This mockery is actually motivated by the fact that Islam is not historically the main religion of the white continent of Europe. Such racist neo-orientalist views should not be dignified as being worthy of detailed academic rebuttal. Indeed, we should not allow such works in the public domain: Why should we feed this beast the oxygen of publicity provided by the respectable forum of decent debate?

8.8  “The Qur’an Got It Half-Right” The Qur’an offers a coherent and appealing alternative to the Christian offer of salvation. The Qur’an achieves this partly through its penetrating and unanswered – and not, contrary to what Jews and Christians often say, disjointed and polemical – critique of their beliefs and practices. The Qur’an’s internal consistency does not entail the truth of its claims or of its self-description regarding its provenance. Fairy tales are consistent but untrue. Christians are not expected to concede that Muhammad was God’s prophet who delivered his message faithfully – and that only his followers subsequently misunderstood or corrupted it. Christians cannot hold this analogously generous and courteously lenient view of Islam and of its founding prophet. At most, some may concede that Muhammad was a confused preacher who occasionally and co-­ incidentally got a few things right – just as even a broken clock gets the time right twice in 24 hours. The Arab merchant misunderstood the Bible. Christians seek to find inconsistencies that crept into the Qur’an as a result of incompetent plagiarism of the Bible. Since the Qur’an is, the argument runs, the product of a fallible human mind, it contains mistakes. Some of these errors are mixed with half-truths, including the incidental and accidental inclusion of allegedly distinctively Christian

144

S. Akhtar

truths – whose presence, albeit unintentionally, undermines the Qur’an’s professed message. Christians find this technique appealing: it accounts for the presence and persistence of the Islamic competitor without seriously investigating the possibility of its truth. This method is compatible with the outlook of Christian apologists and missionary scholars who seek to engage Islam, Christianity’s enduring rival for the hand of universal grace. Such scholars study Islam from purely utilitarian motives. The premise is that Islam is a powerful but dangerously mistaken rival that cannot be safely ignored. This view is the most promising one for Christian missionary outreach. While unsuitable for inter-faith work, whether as theological inquiry or political enterprise, one cannot doubt its utility for missionary endeavours among Muslims  – although the labours involved are not reflected in the meagre fruit of this tree. Many missionaries labouring among Muslims, Zwemer onwards, are fond of the parable of the sower, a parable, found in all the Synoptic Gospels (Matt.13-3-9; Mark 4.1-9; Luke 8.4-8) in almost verbatim form. It speaks about the reception of the Gospel among different kinds of hearers of the Word. Few missionaries stop to ask: was it the right seed that was being broadcast – this verb literally means to sow seed by hand - by the sower? Was the seed suited to the field and the soil? Was it sown in the right season? Surely, Europe itself had proved stony soil for the Gospel. After the two great European wars of the twentieth century, most Europeans realized that Christianity had failed to produce good human beings despite some two millennia of Christianity. Christians did not even love each other, let alone their enemies. It is ironic that Christians should be so zealous to cut down a tree in a rival orchard, one that still bears and has borne much better fruit for centuries. Such are the perverted ways of competitive pieties.

8.9  “The Qur’an Is Unoriginal” It is rare for a scholar to be able to muster enough intellectual patience to treat a rival (allegedly) revealed canon with sustained objectivity while believing that it is, in the last analysis, false in part or wholly. Yet this is the only way to avoid slandering the people of the Qur’an. This request for a parallel courtesy awaits reciprocity. Christians rightly resent being slandered by Muslims who misrepresent and caricature their faith, scarcely taking its proper measure  – its remarkable origins as a Jewish reform movement, its fecund dogmatic, denominational, philosophical and enduring intellectual traditions. Christians colonized and annexed the Hebrew Bible. The same tendency persists in the attempted colonization of the Islamic scripture. Crude and sophisticated forms of the claim – that the Qur’an cannot really be saying what it seems to be saying – share the same aim. Both are classic orientalist dispossessions of the alien native voice. The white man can speak on behalf of the native and express more clearly what the latter really wants to say and believe. Here the Qur’an is seen as an

8  Reading the Rival’s Scripture in Open Societies: Christians Encountering the Qur’an

145

unoriginal scripture from a primitive culture lacking philosophical sophistication, a book whose Prophet was an incompetent plagiarist. Subtler versions of this claim include the view that the Qur’an’s subtext is essentially derived from Syrian sources and its claims are virtually all traceable to contemporaneous rabbinic and other extra-biblical, including apocryphal, writings. And the experts on such matters are invariably non-Muslims.13 In scholarly circles, while respect for the autonomy of agnosticism has grown, respect for Islam as a sui generis faith with Abrahamic affinities has decreased. Some modern Christians disown the Christian component in orientalist and colonialist attacks on Islam partly since orientalism is no longer fashionable. The Christian component is still alive in some methods above, as we saw earlier. Good methods are Christian in a moral sense – charitable, sincere, gracious, truthful, and contrite.

8.10  “Muhammad: a Prophet for the Arabs Only” One commendable way to engage the people of the Qur’an is to concede that Muhammad was indeed a prophet – but sent solely to the Arabs. This is a reversal of the Islamic view that Jesus was sent solely to the ethnic house of Israel. The Islamic view is not optional since it is held to be divinely revealed while the Christian view is a concession to Islam. It is in the same vein as the Vatican II proclamation that Muslims, like Jews and Christians, worship the God of Abraham, a claim found amply in the Qur’an. Some Christians believe that much of the Qur’an is compatible with what Christians know has been revealed of God in Christ.14 Muhammad was a nabi (prophet) of divine mercy, justice, and judgement, but he was not a rasūl (messenger) armed with the final law that superseded the earlier dispensations of Judaism and Christianity. The correct method must engage with the orthodox understanding of the Qur’an’s meaning, and not attempt to make central any deviant or perverse reading as if it were the correct or normative or central one. The correct middle is engagement with mainstream and orthodox Islam, the only Islam worth reforming or renovating. It is no achievement to win over some Muslim heretics. The right method accepts the surface meaning of the Qur’an before it rejects, disputes or seeks to refute it. It is unacceptable to argue that the Qur’an does not really say what it seems to say, what most Muslims themselves claim it proclaims. It is equally reprehensible to argue that it bears confused and concealed testimony to the very truths it professes to reject and refute. That is an insulting line of reasoning which has motives, not grounds. It reflects frustration with the Muslim resistance to the Gospel.  Gabriel Said Reynolds entertains a subtle form of the crass view that the Qur’an has a concealed subtext which shows it is essentially plagiarized from Jewish and Christian sources. 14  For example, interfaith campaigners such as Clinton Bennett, Keith Ward, and Julian Bond, all find some common spiritual ground with Muslims. 13

146

S. Akhtar

8.11  Concluding Notes I have argued that the quest to understand the Qur’an should not be driven by questionable motives or undeclared agendas. Rather, it ought to be motivated by the moral and intellectual demands of liberal citizenship in open and free cultures. Liberal theology, not tied to any denomination, would accept some good in the Qur’anic message. But concessions that are confessional are more valuable than those made in Christianity’s liberal scholarly wing. A safe space for research into the Qur’an will require single standards of intellectual honesty for all interested parties. Only then can stronger and healthier Christian-Muslim relations and friendships flourish. Only then can we together move towards justice and away from Western Christian condescension towards the peace-loving prophet of Islam and his universal community of faith. Only then can we mitigate the ancient clash of the crucial claims of the two contenders – and ensure world peace. It is said that men and women cannot be only friends. Can Christians and Muslims at least be friends? The onus is on Christians. All Christians must openly reject the absurd and immoral view that while Muslims are generally good and sincere people, the Qur’an’s message is evil – as if an evil faith could produce good human beings. A true faith can still fail to produce good people but no wholly false or evil faith could produce decent human beings of character and integrity for 1400 years.15

References Akhtar, Shabbir. 1989. Be Careful with Muhammad! London: Bellew. ———. 1990. The Light in the Enlightenment. London: Grey Seal/Cassell. ———. 2010. Islam as Political Religion. London: Routledge. ———. 2018a. The New Testament in Muslim Eyes. London: Routledge. ———. 2018b. Finding and Following Jesus: The Muslim Claim on the Messiah. Yaqeen Institute for Islamic Research. December 24. At: https://yaqeeninstitute.org/shabbir-­akhtar/finding-­and-­ following-­jesus-­the-­muslim-­claim-­to-­the-­messiah/#.Xfn57C-­ZPfY Anderson, Mark Robert. 2016. The Quran in Context: A Christian Exploration. In Downer’s Grove. Illinois: IVP Academic. Ayoub, Mahmoud. 2007. Towards an Islamic Christology II. In A Muslim View of Christianity, ed. Irfan A. Omar, 156–183. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books. Daniel, Norman. 1960. Islam and the West. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Rushdie, Salman. 1988. Satanic Verses. London: Viking. Wheeler, Brannon. 2002. Moses in the Quran and Islamic Exegesis. London: Routledge.

 The correct implications of my critique of Christian methods for Christian mission to Muslims will be explored in a sequel to this paper. The larger context is supplied by the related problems of Islamic apostasy laws, and surveillance and security issues in policing the uniquely ‘problematic’ Muslim communities in the open societies of the West.

15

Part II

Pluralism in Modern Islamic Thought and Politics

Chapter 9

Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd and Abdolkarim Soroush Pegah Zohouri

Abstract  This chapter engages with the issue of pluralism in contemporary Islamic thought by discussing the work of three Muslim thinkers, namely, Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd, and Abdolkarim Soroush. In order to address this theme, the chapter first contextualizes their work within the historical fragmentation of authority in Islam. Secondly, it elaborates on their hermeneutical project as the basis for religious pluralism in both its inward and outward dimension: inward, as the promotion of a plurality of interpretations within Islam; outward as the opening to the possibility of access to Salvation and Truth to different religious traditions. The chapter argues that although coming from different intellectual traditions, Arkoun, Abu Zayd and Soroush testify to the plurality of voices within Islam, as well as the centrality of the question of pluralism within contemporary Islamic thought. By shifting their analysis from an ontological to an epistemological exploration of religion, these thinkers challenge the monopoly of any authority over the correct interpretation of the Sacred Sources and Truth. In this process, their attention to the hermeneutics of the Sacred Sources reflects their knowledge of both Islamic theological tradition as well as theories from the humanities and the social sciences. Keywords  Contemporary Islamic thought · Pluralism · Epistemology · Mohammed Arkoun · Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd · Abdolkarim Soroush

P. Zohouri (*) St. Antony’s College, University of Oxford, Oxford, UK e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_9

149

150

P. Zohouri

9.1  Introduction Debates on pluralism have often been intertwined with discussions of power, authority and legitimacy in knowledge. In the philosophical-theological arena, pluralism entails the existence and acceptance of a plurality of legitimate voices and interpretations; in the socio-political field, it raises questions over the right of diverse voices and social groups to co-exist and be represented in society. Issues of power, authority and legitimacy in the production of religious knowledge characterise all religions, but are particularly relevant in Islam for two reasons: first, the absence of a centralized religious hierarchy and the consequent dominance of the interpreters of the Sacred Sources; and second, the proliferation of such interpreters within Islam in the last decades, epitomized by the prevailing question of “who speaks for Islam?.”1 Among the emerging voices of the last three decades, the scholarly literature has identified a new generation of Muslim thinkers whose work is focused on pluralism, the relations between Islam and civil liberties, human rights, and interreligious dialogue.2 Among the most discussed figures in this literature are Mohammed Arkoun (1928–2010), Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd (1943–2010) and Abdolkarim Soroush (b. 1945). The expansion of their readership at the transnational level testifies to the widespread interest among contemporary Muslim communities in the debate on Islam and pluralism, on the one hand, and their ability to provide an intellectual framework for existing sentiments and ideas within Islamic society, on the other.3 Exploring such intellectual trends can, therefore, shed light on broader tendencies within that society. This study investigates the question of pluralism in contemporary Islamic thought by engaging with these three thinkers’ intellectual production. It will argue that their hermeneutical understanding of the Sacred Sources emphasizes the legitimacy of a variety of interpretations in Islam and disputes that anyone has a monopoly over

1  Dale F.  Eickelman, “Who speaks for Islam? Inside the Islamic reformation,” in An Islamic Reformation?, eds. Michaelle Browers and Charles Kurzman (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2004); John L. Esposito and Dalia Mogahed, Who Speaks for Islam? What a Billion Muslims Really Think (New York: Gallup Press, 2007); Gudrun Krämer, and Sabine Schmidtke eds., Speaking for Islam: Religious Authorities in Muslim Societies (Leiden: Brill, 2006a, b); Khaled Abou El Fadl, And God Knows the Soldiers: The Authoritative and Authoritarian in Islamic Discourses (Lanham: University Press of America, 2001), 20. 2  Mehran Kamrava ed., The New Voices of Islam: Rethinking Politics and Modernity (London: I.B. Tauris, 2006); Suha Taji-Farouki ed., Modern Muslim Intellectuals and the Qurʼan (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004); Charles Kurzman ed., Liberal Islam: A Sourcebook (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998); Ronald L. Nettler, Mohamed Mahmoud, and John Cooper eds., Islam and Modernity: Muslim Intellectuals Respond (London: I.B. Tauris, 1998); Shireen Hunter, Reformist Voices of Islam: Mediating Islam and Modernity (Armonk: Sharpe, 2009); Lena Larsen, Kari Vogt, and Christian Moe eds., New Directions in Islamic Thought: Exploring Reform and Muslim Tradition (London: I.B. Tauris, 2009). 3  Mohammed A.  Bamyeh, “Introduction: The social dynamism of the organic intellectual,” in Intellectuals and Civil Society in the Middle East: Liberalism, Modernity and Political Discourse, ed. Mohammed A. Bamyeh (London: I.B. Tauris, 2012) 3.

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 151

knowledge and truth; this approach is reflected also in their discussion of religious pluralism. Therefore, this chapter will first introduce these thinkers by contextualizing their appearance within the historical fragmentation of Islamic authority. Second, it will explore how their work has reflected a pluralist understanding of Islam through their hermeneutical projects and its implications beyond the Islamic tradition.4

9.2  A  New Phase in the Fragmentation of Islamic Intellectual Authority: Arkoun, Abu Zayd and Soroush A broad scholarship has explored the concurrence of knowledge production and religious authority in Islam, testifying to the diversity of authorities that have existed throughout the religion’s history.5 An overview of this literature demonstrates the lack of a monolithic orthodoxy within Islam and describes at least three phases in the fragmentation of authority in knowledge. First comes the pre-modern phase during which the scope, nature and locus of religious authority were already fluid, although still dominated by the ulama – the traditional holders of knowledge in the Islamic world.6 Second is the modern phase, starting towards the end of the nineteenth century, when modernization (particularly mass communications and mass education), and the increased interaction with European powers, led to the decline of the ulama’s supremacy in the production of knowledge and the emergence of a newly-educated elite.7 Figures such as Jamal al-Din Al-Afghani, Muhammad Abduh, and Rashid Rida addressed the relationship between Islam, modernity and the West by challenging the traditional definitions and methods of religious knowledge. They criticised the “decadence” of Muslim societies and reconceived Islam as a tool for social justice and political resistance to European hegemony in the modern world.8 Finally, a third phase developed along with globalization, advanced communication technologies, the growing Muslim diaspora communities in the

4  This chapter will leave the comparison of their socio-political understandings of pluralism to further research. 5  Peter Mandaville, “Globalization and the politics of religious knowledge: Pluralizing authority in the Muslim world,” Theory, Culture & Society 24:2 (2007) 101–115; Wael B. Hallaq, Authority, Continuity, and Change in Islamic Law (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005); Abou El Fadl, And God Knows the Soldiers, 2001; Muhammad Qasim Zaman, The Ulama in Contemporary Islam: Custodians of Change (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002), 38–59. 6  Krämer and Schmidtke eds., Speaking for Islam; Kathryn A. Miller, Guardians of Islam: Religious Authority and Muslim Communities of Late Medieval Spain (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008). 7  Suha Taji-Farouki, “Introduction,” in Modern Muslim Intellectuals and the Qurʼan, ed. Suha TajiFarouki (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 10. 8  John L.  Esposito, ed., Makers of Contemporary Islam (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 12.

152

P. Zohouri

West, and the emergence of previously under-represented voices such as women and Muslims from the geographical “peripheries” of the Islamic world.9 These structural changes resulted in a further multiplication of authorities within Islam. Among the multitude of voices, Arkoun, Abu Zayd and Soroush were part of a new generation of thinkers who built on the work of the twentieth-century reformist intellectuals. In addition to pluralism, new issues addressed by these thinkers included democracy, freedom, human rights, gender equality, the status of minorities, and inter-religious relations.10 Whilst maintaining, like their predecessors, the necessity of interpreting the sacred message for the contemporary world, the altered historical and geographical context changed key themes of their interpretation, and the methodology they applied to these projects. Some previous issues endured in contemporary debates: the emphasis on social justice as the core of the Islamic message and the relationship of Islam to modernity and the West.11 This “West”, however, had become part of their identities: Arkoun, Abu Zayd and Soroush, although of Middle Eastern origin (Algeria, Egypt, and Iran, respectively), lived in Europe and North America (France, the Netherlands, and the United States). They were consequently more familiar with Western modernity and better equipped to critique it.12 Furthermore, over the course of the twentieth century, confidence in the modern project of emancipation and progress had progressively weakened, and the emergence of post-structuralist literature that questioned many modernist assumptions influenced these thinkers’ writings. The hermeneutics of the Sacred Sources, which characterised much of their work, engaged them with thinkers such as Gadamer, Foucault and Derrida.13 Arkoun’s interdisciplinary approach (using linguistics, cultural anthropology, semiotics and other modern fields) in the study of the Qur’an reflects this new attitude;14 Abu Zayd’s examination of Qur’an’s linguistic and stylistic structure is shaped by the postmodernists’ emphasis on discourses and texts;15

9  Mandaville, “Globalization and the politics of religious knowledge,” 101–115; Frédéric Volpi and Bryan S. Turner, “Introduction: Making Islamic authority matter,” Theory, Culture & Society 24:2 (2007):1–19; Zaman, The Ulama in Contemporary Islam; Juliane Hammer, and Riem Spielhaus, “Muslim women and the challenge of authority: An introduction,” The Muslim World 103:3 (2013): 287–294. 10  Kamrava, The New Voices of Islam, 19; William Shepard, “The diversity of Islamic thought: Toward a typology,” in Islamic Thought in the Twentieth Century, ed. Suha Taj-Farouki and Basheer M. Nafi (London: I.B. Tauris, 2008). 11  Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd and Esther Ruth Nelson, Voice of an Exile: Reflections on Islam (Westport: Praeger, 2004), 1, 20. 12  Taji-Farouki, Introduction, 10. 13  Morteza Kariminiya, “Ta’wil, haqiqat va nass: Goftogu-ye Kiyan ba Nasr Hamed Abu Zayd,” Kiyan 54 (2000): 6; Mohammed Arkoun, “The vicissitudes of ethics in islamic thought,” in Humanism and Muslim Culture: Historical Heritage and Contemporary Challenges, ed. Jörn Rüsen Stefan Reichmuth, Aladdin Sarhan (Gottingen: V&R Unipress, 2012), 63. 14  Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd, Reformation of Islamic Thought: A Critical Historical Analysis (Amsterdam: Amsterdam Universty Press, 2006), 84. 15  Ibid. 93.

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 153

and Soroush’s “theory of contraction and expansion” is inspired by Karl Popper’s evolutionary epistemology and his theory of falsification as a critique of “verification”.16 Despite these similarities, their particular intellectual trajectories shaped their different approaches to pluralism. Mohammed Arkoun (1928–2010), was a professor of Islamic Thought at the Sorbonne University. Born in Algeria, he moved to France to continue his studies, where he initially became known as a leading scholar of Islam, and – particularly from the 1990s – as a public figure (for instance, President Jacques Chirac appointed him to the Stasi Commission, set up to evaluate the application of the laïcité principle in France). Central to his academic project is an effort to create a method of Islamic studies capable of addressing contemporary concerns.17 Both the classical understanding of ijtihad and the orientalists’ historical-philological tradition, according to Arkoun, have failed to address current issues, leaving space for political scientists to dominate the study of Islam on the one hand, and favouring the rise of militant Islamists, on the other.18 He, therefore, suggests re-examining parts of Muslim thought that traditionally have been presented as unquestionable dogma by the Islamic orthodoxy, including issues such as the rule of law and the nature of the Qur’an.19 To analyse the mechanisms of knowledge production in different Abrahamitic societies he develops a multidisciplinary approach that incorporates academic disciplines such as history, anthropology, linguistics, hermeneutics, semiotics and discourse analysis.20 Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd (1943–2010) was an Egyptian scholar and professor at Cairo University whose unorthodox views led a Shari‘a court to declare him an apostate and force him to divorce his wife and flee to the Netherlands, where he became the Chair of Humanism and Islam at Utrecht University. Abu Zayd’s work underlines the historical dimension of the Qur’an as a human text21 and introduces modern linguistics and theories of hermeneutics to the analysis of the Sacred Sources.22 In line with Arkoun, he approaches the study of Islam by synthesising traditional Islamic theology with modern theories drawn from the humanities and social sciences.

 Abdolkarim Soroush, “Intellectual autobiography: An interview,” in Reason, Freedom and Democracy in Islam, ed. Mahmoud Sadri and Ahmad Sadri (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 13, 15. 17  Mohammed Arkoun, “Rethinking Islam today,” The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 588:1 (2003): 18. 18  Abu Zayd, Reformation of Islamic Thought, 84. 19  Mohammed Arkoun, The Unthought in Contemporary Islamic Thought (London: Saqi, 2002), 12–13, 398–334. 20  Ibid. 156–163. 21  Abu Zayd, Reformation of Islamic Thought, 97. 22  Navid Kermani, “From revelation to interpretation: Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd and the literary study of the Qur’an,” in Modern Muslim Intellectuals and the Qur’an, ed. Suha Taji-Farouki (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 187. 16

154

P. Zohouri

Abdolkarim Soroush (b. 1945) is an Iranian thinker and one of the leading intellectual figures in that country’s reformist movement. He pursued his studies in chemistry, history and the philosophy of science in London but returned to Iran following the Iranian Revolution in 1979. He initially joined the revolutionary effort as a member of the Committee for the Cultural Revolution, but quit the position due to disagreements, and gradually distanced himself from the country’s new establishment. During the 1990s he emerged as a leading figure in the Iranian reformist movement, which elected Mohammad Khatami as president in 1997. His criticism of the establishment and Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, the Iranian supreme leader, forced him into exile in Europe and North America. Soroush’s work distinguishes between Islam – eternal and beyond human reach – and understanding Islam, a historically contingent and fallible endeavour. This approach challenges the monopoly of any one group over truth. Methodologically, he combines Iranian Islamic-mysticism with modern Western theory, particularly from the philosophy of science, drawing on the work of thinkers such as Kant, Hegel, Karl Popper and Erich Fromm. Their diverse backgrounds – Arkoun formed between the Arab tradition and his French intellectual environment, Abu Zayd coming from the Arab tradition, and Soroush from the Iranian Shi’ite tradition – profoundly conditioned the way they address the question of interpretation. As the next two sections will consider, this is reflected both in the epistemological approaches each one develops in their study of Islam, and their discussion of religious pluralism.

9.3  F  rom an Ontological to an Epistemological Approach to Islam All three thinkers promote a pluralist understanding of Islam: any text, including the Sacred Sources, is open to infinite interpretations.23 Different understandings of Islam, they claim, are dependent on their historical and political context, and as such, specific to those contingencies. This implies not only the impossibility of a “neutral knowledge” or “pure readings of phenomena”,24 but also that the meaning of religion is necessarily fluid.25 They, therefore, see the study of Islam as an “epistemological project.”26 Their emphasis on the way knowledge and understandings of Islam are produced put the hermeneutics of the Sacred Sources at the core of these thinkers’ analyses. This shifts the attention from an ontological research of the  Abu Zayd, Reformation of Islamic Thought, 85, 86.  Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd, “Linguaggio religioso e ricerca di una nuova linguistica: Una lettura del pensiero di Mohammed Arkoun,” in Islam e storia, ed. Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd (Torino: Bollati Boringhieri, 2002), 184. 25  Iranian Labour News Agency (ILNA), “Some of our religious intellectuals are still afraid of being called liberal or secular,” 2006, accessed 10 October 2019, http://www.drsoroush.com/ English/News_Archive/E-NWS-20061027.html 26  Arkoun, “Rethinking Islam today,” 18. 23 24

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 155

Islamic message to an epistemological analysis of the tools necessary to understand and interpret this message, which is the basis of their pluralist understanding of Islam. They bring the Sacred Sources under scrutiny by differentiating the eternal message from its contingent, historical and cultural elements, thus challenging the monopoly of any group over the “correct” meaning. While the need to contextualize the Qur’anic verses within the specific context of sixth-century Arabia is not new, what distinguishes these scholars is their focus on the actual process of knowledge production. Attempts by reformist thinkers at the beginning of the twentieth century to introduce a rational-historical interrogation of the Qur’an had not challenged the sanctity of the text.27 During the 1970s and 1980s scholars such as Fazlur Rahman and Ali Shariati started questioning the status of the hadiths; with these scholars the revelation, the Qur’an itself, and the historical circumstances of its production all come under scrutiny.28 In his work, Arkoun explores the multitude of forgotten or ostracized traditions within Islam through a critique of what he calls “Islamic reason”: a form of reason that “accepts to function within religious postulates”, taking them as an “unchallenged given.”29 This critical analysis deconstructs the process of the crystallization of official religion, and advocates the reconstruction of an “exhaustive tradition” which includes both orthodoxy and heterodoxy.30 Islamic orthodoxy, Arkoun argues, resulted from the selection and canonization of specific interpretations over others.31 The pluralism that characterized the classical period (between the first and fifth centuries AH) was gradually reduced by the establishment of the two major orthodoxies, the Sunni and the Shi’ite. Contemporary Islamic thought is, in his analysis, shaped by categories and modes of reasoning developed during the scholastic period of seventh- to eighth-century AH.32 Moving beyond classical ijtihad (practiced by Muslims), and conventional Islamology (used in the European orientalist tradition), Arkoun employs historical semiotics and socio-linguistics to expose different interpretations of the Qur’an, developing an exegesis of how the selection and canonization of orthodox interpretation took place.33 In his deconstruction of orthodoxy, he distinguishes between “Qur’anic facts” and “Islamic facts,” linking the emergence of Islamic reason (i.e., orthodoxy) to the transition from the former to the latter. As “Qur’anic facts” correspond to God’s appeal to human consciousness during the lifetime of Muhammad, they are historically bounded  – reflecting the linguistic, socio-economic and political realities of seventh-century Arabia. As this ended with  Taji-Farouki, Introduction, 27.  Abdelwahab El-Affendi, “The people on the edge: Religious reform and the burden of the Western Muslim intellectuals,” Harvard Middle Eastern and Islamic Review 8 (2009): 32. 29  Ursula Günther, “Mohammed Arkoun: Towards a radical rethinking of Islamic thought,” in Modern Muslim Intellectuals and the Qur’an, ed. Suha Taji-Farouki (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 132, 134. 30  Mohammed Arkoun, Essais sur la pensée islamique (Paris: Maisonneuve et Larose, 1973), 10. 31  Arkoun, The Unthought in Contemporary Islamic Thought, 155, 249. 32  Arkoun, “Rethinking Islam today,” 27. 33  Abu Zayd, Reformation of Islamic Thought, 86. 27 28

156

P. Zohouri

the death of the prophet in 632 CE, they are no longer accessible.34 The subsequent process of collection and canonization of the “official closed corpus” (muṣḥaf) signalled the beginning of “Islamic facts.”35 This coincided with the “shift from the oral discourse” conducted through speech into the official, closed textual corpus.36 This “dogmatic enclosure” of the “bāb al-ijtihād”, around the tenth century  – although meant to guarantee consistency and coherence within Islamic discourse, allowing a common framework of expression and representation among different adherents – also marked the beginning of an official religious orthodoxy in Islam.37 This emerged through a process of selection of the “correct” texts and identifying and eliminating any discontinuities (i.e., names, authors, ideas, school of thoughts) within Islamic thought, marking the end of the pluralism that had characterized classical Islamic discourse. This historical and ideological process of selection created a de facto “system of values” meant to secure and preserve power.38 The creation of orthodoxy is therefore, in Arkoun’s account, strictly linked to the formation of what he calls the “thinkable” and “unthinkable” in Islamic thought. Incongruent notions about revelation, the nature of the Qur’an, secularism, and civil society were eliminated and consigned to the unthinkable and unthought.39 By disclosing the unthinkable, Arkoun aims to reveal the many different interpretations and voices which have been silenced by the emergence of orthodoxy within Islam. Unlike Abu Zayd and Soroush, he does not suggest an alternative interpretation to those formulated by previous Muslim commentators, but rather presents a “plural reading” of those interpretations.40 Similarly to Arkoun, Abu Zayd introduces linguistic and stylistic analysis as a way to contextualize the Scriptures.41 He employs traditional Qur’anic exegetical tools such as the distinction between ambiguous (mutashābih) and clear (muḥkam) verses, and between historical and universal verses.42 The divergence among theologians, he argues, lay not in the theoretical distinction between these categories, but in the actual implementation of such distinctions: in other words, on the association of each verse or verses to a specific category. The novelty of his approach to the debate consists of the methodology he uses to make this distinction.43 He distinguishes between text (nass) and interpretation (ta’wil), with the latter reflecting the reader’s social and cultural perspective:44  Arkoun, The Unthought in Contemporary Islamic Thought, 256–267.  Ibid. 57, 61–62. 36  Ibid. 262. 37  Günther, “Mohammed Arkoun: Towards a radical rethinking of Islamic thought,” 132, 133, 148. 38  Ibid. 139. 39  Arkoun, The Unthought in Contemporary Islamic Thought, 12, 13, 15–23. 40  Arkoun, “Islam facing development,” Diogenes 20:77 (1972): 83. 41  Abu Zayd, Reformation of Islamic Thought, 95–96. 42  Ibid. 93–94; Abu Zayd, Critique of Religious Discourse, translated by Jonathan Wright (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2018), 118. 43  Abu Zayd, Reformation of Islamic Thought, 95–96. 44  Abu Zayd, Critique of religious discourse, 118; Kermani, “From revelation to interpretation,” 138–139, 173. 34 35

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 157 The Qur’an, like any other text, can be read in different ways, and there has always been a plurality of interpretations. The text does not stand alone. Rather, it has to be interpreted, in order to arrive at its meaning, and interpretation is a human exercise and no interpreter is infallible.45

The historicization of the text and the investigation of its human dimension are therefore crucial in grasping the plurality of its interpretations. The history of Islam, Abu Zayd argues, is a history of pluralism in opinions arising over the centuries from many different movements and sects. This diversity is the result of the contingent sociological, political and economic factors faced by each of these groups, which caused them to frame their positions through differing, innovative interpretations of the text.46 Arab-Islamic civilization had remained thriving and vigorous as long as it was grounded on pluralism, reason, and freedom of thought.47 These conditions, however, did not last long due to socio-political factors: Abu Zayd recognizes, indeed, in the battle of Siffin (657 AD) the first attempt to abandon reason for scripture: on that occasion the Umayyads held pages of the Qur’an on their swords asking for “arbitration by God’s book.”48 The struggle for power across contending groups and factions ejected reason from its primary position, replacing it with ideological readings of the Sacred Sources, and dissolving pluralism in the process.49 This rejection of pluralism and concomitant claim of the existence of only one Islam, Abu Zayd points out, had a double consequence. First, the monopoly of religious scholars to identify the one true meaning of any Islamic text.50 This insistence on the authority of religious scholars, he argues, contradicts the Islamic refusal of priesthood as a sacred authority.51 Second, it ignores the historical, cultural and geographical context that has formed the meaning of Islam. These conditions shape not only the reader’s interpretation, but, more fundamentally, the revelation and canonization of the Qur’an itself. The revelation, Abu Zayd points out, adopted the cultural and linguistic features of the first addressees.52 As a cultural product, the Qur’an re-articulated pre-Islamic culture and concepts “via the specific language structure”, to become “the producer of a new culture.”53 To understand the Qur’an, therefore, it is imperative to take into account the historical, social, cultural and human dimensions preceding and surrounding the text. He argues that the process of canonization, the early rearrangement of the text, and the vocalization of the scripts all resulted from human intervention; such dimensions, which need to be  Yoginder Sikand, “For a plurality of Koranic interpretations: Interview with Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd,” Qantara, 2011, accessed 5 December 2019, https://en.qantara.de/content/ interview-with-nasr-hamid-abu-zayd-for-a-plurality-of-koranic-interpretations 46  Abu Zayd, Critique of Religious Discourse, 51. 47  Ibid. 82. 48  Ibid. 49  Ibid. 50  Ibid. 53. 51  Ibid. 52  Kermani, “From revelation to interpretation,” 177. 53  Abu Zayd, Reformation of Islamic Thought, 97. 45

158

P. Zohouri

investigated in the analysis of the texts, were omitted by ideological readings of the Qur’an.54 The scholar sees such readings, with their repression of critical reasoning, as an insuperable hindrance to pluralism. At the heart of his research, therefore, he proposes the investigation of the relationship between the interpretation of the text and ideology in both classical and contemporary Islamic thought.55 In line with Abu Zayd and Arkoun, Soroush criticises the ideological reading of religion, introducing in his analysis the distinction between religion (din) – immutable and divine, and religious knowledge (marefat’e dini) – a “human endeavour,” that is “constantly changing.”56 Contrary to previous thinkers such as Muhammad Abduh, Rashid Rida, Muhammad Iqbal, and Ali Shariati, Soroush does not believe that Islam itself needs reformation; rather, it is modern human understanding of Islam that has to be reformed.57 His theory of the “contraction and expansion of religious knowledge” represents an attempt to overcome what he sees as these previous thinkers’ lack of epistemological theory.58 The theory links religious understanding to the historical evolution of other fields of human knowledge: as the latter contracts and expands, according to Soroush, so does human understanding of religion.59 This mutual influence across fields of knowledge is apparent, for instance, in the theological debates on muḥkamāt (clear verses) and mutashābihāt (unclear verses). Although commentators defined these two concepts and applied them to different Qur’anic verses to free the text from external ideas, such endeavours inevitably introduced the commentator’s own external knowledge.60 The various interpretations this produced are therefore contextual, and although it is not possible to reach the “true” meaning of the text, each interpreter could attain a “correct meaning” by applying refined, rational methods to understand it within the limits of her or his own methodological and mental capacities.61 Soroush sees the multiple meanings of the text as part of the Creator’s intention.62 In The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, Soroush broadens this historicization beyond religious understanding to unpack religion itself: he investigates the historical and human dimensions in concepts such as revelation and the prophetic experience of the revelation (waḥy). By seeing the Prophet’s understanding of the revelation as shaped by his social and political context, as well as his life and personality, Soroush understands him as an  Ibid. 98.  Abu Zayd and Nelson, Voice of an Exile, 79. 56  Abdolkarim Soroush, “Islamic revival and reform: Theological approaches,” in Reason, Freedom, and Democracy in Islam: Essential Writings of Abdolkarim Soroush, eds. Mahmoud Sadri and Ahmad Sadri (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 31. 57  Ibid. 28. 58  Ibid. 30. 59  Ibid. 30–38. 60  Abdolkarim Soroush, “The evolution and devolution of religious knowledge,” in Liberal Islam: A Sourcebook, ed. Charles Kurzman (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), 248–249. 61  Abdolkarim Soroush, “Straight Paths  — 2: A Conversation on religious pluralism,” in The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, ed. Forough Jahanbakhsh (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 176. 62  Ibid. 178. 54 55

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 159

“active agent” rather than a “passive means” for the process of revelation.63 Given this fluidity and multiplicity of understandings, no one – including the clergy – can claim a monopoly over religion.64 All three thinkers, therefore, emphasize the plurality of interpretations of the Qur’an by investigating their historical and human dimensions. In their explorations of this plurality, they employ conceptual tools from both the Islamic tradition (Soroush borrowing also from the Shi’ite and mystic traditions), as well as from recent theories developed within the humanities and the social sciences. Their expertise in different disciplines shapes the methodology each prioritizes for this investigation: Arkoun and Abu Zayd emphasize discourse analysis, semiotics, and linguistics – although Arkoun engages more extensively with theories from political, cultural and social anthropology;65 Soroush applies his knowledge of philosophy, and particularly the philosophy of science, instead. At the same time, they all posit the centrality of reason as a conditio sine qua non of a pluralist understanding of Islam, and believe that an ideological reading of the Sacred Sources – explicitly promoted by the previous generation of thinkers but present throughout the history of Islam – is a hindrance to pluralism. Having been involved with the Iranian Islamic revolution, Soroush sees ideologies’ tendency to simplify complex systems of thought as instrumental for mass mobilization, but an obstacle to the pursuit of religious knowledge in all its complexity and variety.66 Having experienced personally the effects of the ideologization of Islam when accused of apostasy, Abu Zayd aims at uncovering the ideologization of Islam in both classical and modern Islamic thought.67 Arkoun also intends with his project to reject the ideologization of religion and move towards a free and critical form of Islamic thought.68 But he distances himself from his contemporaries (without explicitly mentioning Abu Zayd and Soroush), whom he sees as still ideologically driven: “many of them do not even rely on precise philological criticism, because they are too much influenced by ideological commitments.”69 Thus, while challenging a single dominant ideological understanding of Islam, the three scholars relate their pluralist projects to the previous Islamic intellectual tradition in different ways. Abu Zayd, for instance, emphasizes his continuity with earlier thinkers, arguing that he introduces new methodologies to achieve concepts

 Abdolkarim Soroush, “Bashar and Bashir: Soroush’s first response to Sobhani,” in The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, ed. Forough Jahanbakhsh (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 306. 64  Soroush, Straight Paths — 2, 179. 65  Mohammed Arkoun, “New perspectives for a Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue,” Journal of Ecumenical Studies 26:3 (1989): 528. 66  Forough Jahanbakhsh, Islam, democracy and religious modernism in Iran, 1953–2000: From Bazargan to Soroush (Leiden: Brill, 2001), 151–152. 67  Abu Zayd, “Linguaggio religioso e ricerca di una nuova linguistica,” 182–183. 68  Arkoun, The Unthought in Contemporary Islamic Thought, 15. 69  Mohammed Arkoun, “The Study of Islam in French scholarship,” in Mapping Islamic Studies: Genealogy, Continuity and Change, ed. Azim Nanji (Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter, 1997), 44. 63

160

P. Zohouri

and frameworks already discussed.70 He claims to pursue the traditional role of the jurists – disclosing the meaning of the Qur’an and re-encoding it according to the specific historical context – by employing these new methodologies. Arkoun and Soroush, on the contrary, perceive their projects as a systematic and foundational rethinking of the Islamic tradition, a restructuring meant to bring rationality into its central frame of reference: in Soroush’s words, “ijtihad itself is in need of another ijtihad.”71 Although this centrality of reason is not a new claim, contrary to the previous generation they understand reason as independent from – rather than subordinate to – revelation.72 In this process, however, Soroush still positions himself within the theological endeavour, while Arkoun situates his project outside theology, which he sees as incapable of actuating the radical rethinking he proposes. This interest in the phenomenological exploration of religion is influenced by Arkoun’s positionality at the intersection between the French academic field of Islamic studies and the Muslim world. This liminal setting influences also the interlocutors his project addresses: while Abu Zayd and Soroush’s main addressee remains the Muslim community (although they engage also with the academic community in the West), Arkoun addresses his Muslim and Western readership equally. His effort to expose neglected interpretations and concepts, therefore, is directed not only at the Islamic tradition but also at the orientalist study of Islam: for Arkoun, the use of conceptual tools from the Islamic tradition represents a way to overcome the secularist paradigm of European academia. These similarities and differences between Arkoun, Abu Zayd and Soroush’s epistemological frameworks are evident in their engagement with religious pluralism as well.

9.4  The Discussion of Religious Pluralism Religious pluralism beyond the Muslim community is an important component of these thinkers’ projects. Although this is not novel in Islamic thought, its intellectual formulation became central to contemporary debates as a result of developments linked to globalization. The appearance of new diasporic communities, higher rates of mobility, and new communication technologies – as well as the position of these thinkers themselves, between the Middle East and the West – furthered interest in the topic. In his work, Arkoun attempts to find a common epistemological basis for the study of the various religious traditions, seeing no difference between these experiences.73 Islam, in his account, represents a specific expression of a broader religious

 Kermani, “From Revelation to interpretation,” 185.  Soroush, “Islamic revival and reform,” 29; Forough Jahanbakhsh, “Introduction,” in The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, ed. Forough Jahanbakhsh (Leiden: Brill, 2009), xx. 72  Ibid. xxii. 73  Arkoun, “New perspectives for a Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue,” 528. 70 71

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 161

phenomenon that he calls the “Societies of the B/book”: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.74 These, he claims, tackled similar issues through different modalities, such as the “relation between the Sacred Text and its worldly manifestations through the religious imaginary”, and the “search for salvation through obedience of God’s will.”75 He promotes, therefore, a generalization of the methodology he uses for the Qur’an, in order to move beyond a single religious tradition.76 Rather than focusing on the metaphysical question of non-Muslims’ access to truth and Salvation, he analyses the different religious traditions as social phenomena reframing the definition of revelation as “the accession to the interior space of a human being […] of some novel meaning that opens up unlimited opportunities or back currents of meaning for human existence.”77 Such inclusive account of revelation encompasses any teaching  – including that of “Buddha, Confucius and African elders”  – that epitomizes the “collective experience of a group” and projects it towards new horizons and new human experiences of the divine.78 This broadened definition allows him to make a comparative analysis and explore the three stages of revelation embedded in all three monotheistic traditions: (1) the transcendent and infinite word of God, unknown as a whole to human beings and only partly revealed through the prophets;79 (2) the historical manifestation of the word of God, initially oral, delivered through the Hebrew prophets, then Jesus, and ultimately Muhammad;80 and (3) the “official closed canons/corpus”, once the initial oral form was written down and preserved in text (the Hebrew Bible, the New Testament and the Qur’an). This last stage, Arkoun claims, depended not on God but on historical, social and political facts and agencies; nevertheless, it is the most significant in the history of the revelations.81 In his analysis, therefore, Arkoun promotes an exploration of the question of meaning based on historical forces, moving beyond the concept of transcendence: All ‘believers’ whether they adhere to revealed religions or contemporary secular religions, would thus be equally constrained to envisage the question of meaning not from the angle of unchanging transcendence – that is of an ontology sheltered from all historicity – but in the light of historical forces that transmute the most sacred values, those regarded as most divine by virtue of their symbolic capital and as inseparable from necessarily mythical accounts of the founding, and from which each ethnocultural group extracts and recognises what it calls identity or personality.82

This does not imply a dismissal of the importance of the transcendence in human experience, but an acknowledgment of its being beyond the reach of human inquiry.  Ibid.  Rachid Benzine, I nuovi pensatori dell’Islam (Frosinone: Pisani, 2004). 118–119. 76  Arkoun, “New perspectives for a Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue,” 526, 528. 77  Arkoun, Rethinking Islam: Common Questions, Uncommon Answers (Boulder: Westview Press, 1994), 34. 78  Ibid. 79  Arkoun, “New perspectives for a Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue,” 526. 80  Ibid. 81  Ibid. 82  Arkoun, Rethinking Islam, 9. 74 75

162

P. Zohouri

He promotes the pursuit of a common ground across different religious experiences outside of the theological domain. Current practices of religious dialogue, he argues, are dominated by a “psychological obstacle” – i.e. the participants’ need to protect and ascertain specific unsurpassable values and the authenticity of their religion, rather than entering the other’s perspective – “the philosophical perspective of the reciprocity of consciences” in Arkoun’s terms.83 Through this process, theological references have become tools to confirm this mutual exclusion rather than to cross the traditional boundaries towards some sort of shared understanding,84 so that “theologies as we still use them among the three communities are intellectual and cultural systems of mutual exclusion.”85 Furthermore, Arkoun argues, theologians lack the intellectual tools necessary to engage with common theological issues on a scientific basis.86 He finds problematic, for instance, the opposition of Christian theologians to his use of human and social scientific methodologies in the study of Islam, which they consider as irrelevant to “spiritual perspectives”, and as reducing faith to an “ordinary object of knowledge.”87 It is only by moving beyond theological debates that it is possible to really reach the “reciprocity of consciences” Arkoun aspires to. Contrary to Arkoun, Abu Zayd sets his project within the theological tradition – although a reformed one: he focuses on the textual analysis of the Qur’an to identify the status of diverse believers described in the Sacred Text. The Qur’an, he argues, guaranties the equality of all human beings regardless of religious differences. Since there is no compulsion in religion (Qur’an 2:256), individuals’ freedom to believe, as well as the right to change religion, is protected.88 He identifies within the Sacred Text four human categories: (1) the faithful (al-mu’minūn) who believe in God and the afterlife and live according to the revealed law; (2) the disobedient (al-fāsiqūn) who believe in God and the afterlife but do not obey his law; (3) the polytheists (al-mushrikūn) who believe in God and “claim association with him”; and (4) the atheists (al-kāfirūn) who deny the existence of God and the afterlife.89 The first two categories, he argues, include previous prophesies of the Jews, Christians and Sabians. Islam, indeed, present itself not as a new religion but a continuation of the same message brought by these previous prophets and manifested in their scriptures. This explains why previous prophets were considered Muslims avant la lettre in the Qur’an.90 Grounding the definition of religion in the essential dimensions of  Mohammed Arkoun, “From inter-religious dialogue to the recognition of the religious phenomenon,” Diogenes 46:182 (1998): 123. 84  Arkoun, “New perspectives for a Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue,” 524. 85  Mohammed Arkoun, “Democracy: A challenge to Islamic thought” (Seminar June 1, 1999), accessed October 10, 2019 http: //www.philo.Sm.com/akroundemocratie.html 86  Arkoun, “New perspectives for a Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue,” 523. 87  Ibid. 88  Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd, “The Qur’anic concept of justice,” Polylog: Forum for Intercultural Philosophizing 3 (2001), accessed October 10, 2019, https://them.polylog.org/3/fan-en.htm 89  Ibid. 90  Ibid. 83

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 163

faith – belief in God, in the Last Day, and doing righteous deeds – Abu Zayd sees the differences between religions as limited to their specific human-made laws and thus circumstantial and subject to change.91 Having acknowledged that all previous prophets are considered Muslims in the Qur’an, Abu Zayd addresses the question of whether the other two religious categories (polytheists and the atheists), can enjoy justice in the Muslim community. He argues that the concept of fiṭra – the inherent purity and self-testimony of the existence of God and His absolute authority characterizing all humans at the moment of birth – includes them as well: the divine justice implied in the concept of fiṭra did not permit any injustice in the universe.92 Every man is responsible for his own eternal destination and is saved “by being sincere and ‘just’ to his inherent nature [fiṭra].”93 He tackles two contentious issues in this regard: first, with reference to the verse “polytheists should be slain whenever they are found” (Qur’an 2:191), he shows that an investigation of the verse chapter’s internal narrative and linguistic features uncovered the verse’s unique historical character. The teaching represented an exception to the norm, only invoked in the case of a war initiated against Muslims, or when fighting was the “only means to remove oppression and retain justice.’94 Second, addressing the issue of the conversion of Muslims to atheism or polytheism, he points out that – although forbidden by the Qur’an  – no “worldly penalty” is mentioned, as this was introduced and institutionalized only later by jurists.95 Abu Zayd, therefore, explores the status of other religions in the Qur’an through a textual analysis of the Sacred Sources: this means contextualizing single verses within the overall structure of the Holy Book, and more broadly, within the historical evolution of Islamic discourse. Soroush represents a middle ground between the two scholars. Although coming from a different – Shi’ite Iranian – tradition, like Arkoun, he understands religious pluralism as an epistemological theory to explain the existence of diverse religious experiences, not merely contending opinions within Islam: “the question of pluralism is a search to explain the actual existing plurality in the world and, for that matter, the inevitable, distinct, and sometimes contradictory plurality.”96 As such, religious pluralism is not meant to define the truth of any particular religion or provide the criteria for their truth or falsehood (in Soroush’s view this is necessarily beyond human cognition). His perspective, therefore, on religious pluralism is “extra-religious”,97 meaning that it is philosophical rather than theological or jurisprudential, transcending personal belief or religious identity.98 Broadening his

 Ibid.  Ibid. 93  Ibid. 94  Ibid. 95  Ibid. 96  Soroush and Kadivar, “Religious pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush debate,” 2008, accessed 5 December 5 2019, https://drsoroush.com/en/religious-pluralism-kadivar-soroush-debate/ 97  Ibid. 98  Ibid. 91 92

164

P. Zohouri

theory of “contraction and expansion”, he sees the tenets of all religions as shaped by human knowledge external to religion.99 He therefore suggests discussing religious pluralism beyond the realm of religion and then using the conclusions to address questions within religion.100 By accepting the existence of a plurality of religions – comparable to the multitude of languages, cultures or species – as an undeniable reality in the world, Soroush centres the debate on how to explain this diversity: all such explanations, he argues, are based on either “causes” or “reason.”101 Causes are defined as “non-epistemological and non-reasoning factors” entailing geographical and cultural backgrounds, social and physical conditions, material needs, training, interest or ignorance: “Causes are non-epistemological and non-­ reasoning factors, which consist of training, environment of birth, life geography, natural evolution, social and hereditary conditions, interests, selfishness, ignorance, and the like and are involved in the creation of human affairs.”102 The religiosity of most believers and even most clerics is caused rather than reasoned, as it is inherited and emulative of the family and larger context into which they are born.103 For the “average” Muslim, Christian, Buddhist or Hindu their faith stems from a clear cause, resulting from imitation and inculcation rather than reason.104 Only a few theologians and free thinkers ground their beliefs in thought and reason, question the assumptions of religion, or consider extra-religious views.105 According to Soroush, it is this reflective religiosity – vis-à-vis the average believers’ imitative religiosity – that produces pluralism.106 Since the world is complex, only engaging with diversity would allow the development of more comprehensive theories to get closer to the truth.107 Pluralism would emerge when reasoning and evidence are used to investigate existing epistemological claims beyond an individual’s own religion.108 Although truth itself is unreachable, the engagement with other forms of understanding contributes to approaching it more closely; various models of religious knowledge are not conflicting but interconnected, related and compatible.109 Soroush illustrates this point with Rūmī’s mystical image of an elephant surrounded by individuals each of whom has access to only one part of the animal.110 Religious  Soroush, “Straight Paths — 1: An Essay on religious pluralsim; positive and negative,” in The expansion of prophetic experience, ed. Forough Jahanbakhsh (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 120. 100  Soroush, “Religious pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush debate.” 101  Ibid.; Mohammed Hashas, “Abdolkarim Soroush: The neo-muʿtazilite that buries classical Islamic political theology in defence of religious democracy and pluralism,” Studia Islamica 10:1 (2014): 166. 102  Soroush, “Religious pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush debate.” 103  Soroush, “Straight Paths — 1, 149.” 104  Soroush, “Religious pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush debate.” 105  Soroush, “Straight Paths — 1,” 150. 106  Soroush, “Straight Paths — 2,” 161. 107  Ibid, 156. 108  Ibid, 168. 109  Soroush, “Straight Paths — 1,” 146. 110  Ibid, 128. 99

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 165

truths, in this vision, are compatible because they are conditional on both their context and the subject who believes in them  – what Soroush called “indexical models.”111 This does not imply a relativism of truth and falsehood,112 but rather a recognition of the phenomenological diversity existing in the world. Indeed, plurality might contain both truth and falsehood; the purpose of Soroush’s endeavour, he insists, is to explain this plurality: “The discussion on pluralism is to explain the plurality that exists in the world, whether this plurality is in the truths or it is a plurality that contains a mixture of truth and falsehood. A plurality has appeared in the world.”113 Seeing the ultimate questions of Salvation and divine guidance as beyond human cognition, Soroush does not engage with their metaphysical dimensions. Rather than a destination, he sees such guidance as a path characterised by the “willingness to accept truth and an absence of hostility towards it.”114 From this perspective, any individual is correctly guided when following what he believes to be the truth, yet is willing to take a different path if he realizes that truth lays somewhere else.115 Even in the realm of divine guidance and Salvation, therefore, Soroush sees the possibility for the truth of more than one religion and for its followers to be saved. All three thinkers, therefore, reduce the definition of religious experience and revelation to its essential terms to present an inclusive understanding of religious pluralism. In Soroush’s words, “Islam (and any other religion for that matter) is a religion by virtue of its essentials, not its accidentals. And being a Muslim demands belief and commitment to the essentials.”116 Contrary to Abu Zayd and Arkoun, however, for Soroush this attention to the essentials does not emphasise the common ground of religions. In fact, pluralism concerns the differences rather than the similarities among religions: the “multiplicity and not sameness.”117 This implies a different understanding of the goals of their intellectual projects. Arkoun intends to move towards a new secular space of “intelligibility and freedom”118 beyond a single religion, whereas Soroush aims for a better understanding of an individual’s chosen path as part of a plural and inevitably broader reality.119 He recognizes the possibility for individuals to remain true to their faiths, rejecting the views of others, if – after questioning the assumptions of their own religions – they reach an “equality of reasons”: a condition in which both debating reasons are strong so that no one can overpower the other.120 Soroush and Arkoun, in particular, understand religious

 Soroush, “Straight Paths — 2,” 166.  Soroush, “Straight Paths — 1,” 122 113  Soroush and Kadivar, “Religious pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush debate.” 114  Soroush, “Straight Paths — 2,” 172. 115  Ibid. 116  Abdolkarim Soroush, “Essentials and accidentals in religion,” in The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, ed. Forough Jahanbakhsh (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 63. 117  Soroush and Kadivar, “Religious pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush debate.” 118  Arkoun, “New perspectives for a Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue,” 528. 119  Soroush, Straight Paths — 1, 143–4. 120  Soroush and Kadivar, “Religious pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush debate.” 111 112

166

P. Zohouri

pluralism as an epistemological theory that moves beyond the status assigned by each religion to external faiths. Both their projects attempt to understand how humans answer the common question of meaning differently; both accept the existence of a variety of religions as an unquestionable reality as the starting point of their analysis; and finally, both situate their investigations of religious pluralism outside the realm of religion. Arkoun explains this plurality through socio-­ anthropological and linguistic analysis, while Soroush uses philosophical and mystical references. Consequently, in line with post-modernist literature, Arkoun sees the multitude of religious reasons as shaped by their historical and social-cultural context – which is what Soroush describes as “causal interpretations”121; by contrast, Soroush argues for the role of reason in the emergence of this historical plurality.122 The diversity of their three approaches is reflected also in the way they tackle the issues of truth and Salvation among religions: Arkoun discusses religions as social phenomena independently from questions of truth and Salvation. Abu Zayd proposes an inclusive approach to pluralism through the textual analysis of the Qur’anic verses and a discussion of the concept of fiṭra. Soroush represents a middle ground: by recognizing the impossibility to reach the “truth,” he bases Salvation on an individual’s “understandings of truth”: in other words, Salvation is perceived not as a destination but as a path consisting of the openness to follow whatever the individual understands to be the truth.

9.5  Conclusions Although coming from different traditions, and following their own intellectual trajectories, Arkoun, Abu Zayd and Soroush testify to the plurality of voices within Islam, as well as the centrality of the question of pluralism within contemporary Islamic thought. This chapter has demonstrated how their attention to the epistemological approach to religion is the basis for their promotion of a plurality of interpretations, both within Islam and among different religions. Indeed, they all challenge the monopoly of any single understanding of Islam by emphasizing the human and historical dimensions of the Sacred Sources. In this process, their attention to the hermeneutics of the Sacred Sources reflects their knowledge of Islamic theological concepts as well their different disciplinary trajectories: Abu Zayd and Arkoun emphasise linguistic and semiotic analysis, while Soroush employs a philosophical approach to the Islamic tradition. Their methodologies reflect also their engagement with religious pluralism. Abu Zayd proposes the contextualization and linguistic analysis of Qur’anic verses to foster an inclusive understanding of diverse religions, while Soroush and Arkoun focus their attention on creating an extra-religious epistemological framework to address the plurality of religions. Arkoun promotes a

121 122

 Soroush, “Straight Paths — 2,” 160.  Ibid, 159.

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 167

comparative historical and socio-anthropological analysis of different religious phenomena; Soroush formulates a philosophical explanation for the existence of such diversity. Their attention to this hermeneutical project and emphasis on the plurality of interpretations does not imply an endorsement of relativism, nor deflect from their efforts to formulate their understandings of the Qur’an. Although recognizing the impossibility of reaching any final interpretation, Soroush and Abu Zayd nevertheless propose their own understanding of the Islamic message but present it as open to confutation. Arkoun, on the contrary, does not formulate one interpretation, but works to reconstruct the totality of interpretations – albeit aware of the impossibility of reaching a complete integration.123 Through their different engagements with the question of interpretation, both within and beyond the Islamic tradition, these thinkers demonstrate the existing pluralism of contemporary Islamic thought.

References Abou El Fadl, Khaled. 2001. And God Knows the Soldiers: The Authoritative and Authoritarian in Islamic Discourses. Lanham: University Press of America. Abu Zayd, Nasr Hamid. 2001. The Qur’anic concept of justice. Polylog: Forum for Intercultural Philosophizing 3. https://them.polylog.org/3/fan-­en.htm. Accessed 10 Oct 2019. ———. 2002. Linguaggio religioso e ricerca di una nuova linguistica: Una lettura del pensiero di Mohammed Arkoun. In Islam e storia, ed. Nasr Abu Zayd, 180–198. Torino: Bollati Boringhieri. ———. 2006. Reformation of Islamic Thought: A Critical Historical Analysis. Amsterdam: Amsterdam Universty Press. ———. 2018. Critique of Religious Discourse. Translated by Jonathan Wright. New Haven: Yale University Press. Abu Zayd, Nasr Hamid, and Esther Ruth Nelson. 2004. Voice of an Exile: Reflections on Islam. Westport: Praeger. Arkoun, Mohammed. 1972. Islam facing development. Diogenes 20 (77): 71–91. ———. 1973. Essais sur la pensée islamique. Paris: Maisonneuve et Larose. ———. 1989. New perspectives for a Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue. Journal of Ecumenical Studies 26 (3): 523–529. ———. 1994. Rethinking Islam: Common Questions, Uncommon Answers. Boulder: Westview Press. ———. 1997. The Study of Islam in French Scholarship. In Mapping Islamic Studies: Genealogy, Continuity and Change, ed. Azim Nanji, 33–44. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. ———. 1998. From inter-religious dialogue to the recognition of the religious phenomenon. Diogenes 46 (182): 123–151. ———. 1999. Democracy: A challenge to Islamic thought (Seminar June 1, 1999). http: //www. philo.Sm.com/akroundemocratie.html. Accessed 10 Oct 2019. ———. 2002. The Unthought in Contemporary Islamic Thought. London: Saqi. ———. 2003. Rethinking Islam today. The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 588 (1): 18–39.

123

 Mohammed Arkoun, “Islam facing development,” 84.

168

P. Zohouri

———. 2012. The Vicissitudes of Ethics in Islamic Thought. In Humanism and Muslim Culture: Historical Heritage and Contemporary Challenges, ed. Jörn Rüsen Stefan Reichmuth and Aladdin Sarhan, 61–88. Gottingen: V&R Unipress. Bamyeh, Mohammed. 2012. Introduction: The social dynamism of the organic intellectual. In Intellectuals and Civil Society in the Middle East, ed. Mohammed A. Bamyeh, 1–26. New York: I.B. Tauris. Benzine, Rachid. 2004. I nuovi pensatori dell’Islam. Frosinone: Pisani. Eickelman, Dale F. 2004. Who speaks for Islam? Inside the Islamic reformation. In An Islamic Reformation? ed. Michaelle Browers and Charles Kurzman, 18–27. Lanham: Lexington Books. El-Affendi, Abdelwahab. 2009. The People on the edge: Religious reform and the burden of the Western Muslim intellectuals. Harvard Middle Eastern and Islamic Review 8: 19–50. Esposito, John L., ed. 2001. Makers of Contemporary Islam. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Esposito, John L., and Dalia Mogahed. 2007. Who Speaks for Islam? What a Billion Muslims Really Think. New York: Gallup Press. Günther, Ursula. 2004. Mohammed Arkoun: Towards a Radical Rethinking of Islamic Thought. In Modern Muslim intellectuals and the Qur’an, ed. Suha Taji-Farouki, 125–167. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hallaq, Wael B. 2005. Authority, Continuity, and Change in Islamic Law. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hammer, Juliane, and Riem Spielhaus. 2013. Muslim women and the challenge of authority: An introduction. The Muslim World 103 (3): 287–294. Hunter, Shireen. 2009. Reformist Voices of Islam: Mediating Islam and Modernity. Armonk: Sharpe. Hashas, Mohammed. 2014. Abdolkarim Soroush: The neo-muʿtazilite that buries classical Islamic political theology in defence of religious democracy and pluralism. Studia Islamica 109: 147–173. Iranian Labour News Agency (ILNA). 2006. Some of our religious intellectuals are still afraid of being called liberal or secular. http://www.drsoroush.com/English/News_Archive/E-­NWS-­20061027.html. Accessed 10 Oct 2019. Jahanbakhsh, Forough. 2001. Islam, Democracy and Religious Modernism in Iran, 1953–2000: From Bazargan to Soroush. Leiden: Brill. ———. 2009. Introduction. In The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, ed. Forough Jahanbakhsh, xv-1. Leiden: Brill. Kamrava, Mehran, ed. 2006. The New Voices of Islam: Rethinking Politics and Modernity. London: I.B. Tauris. Kariminiya, Morteza. 2000. Ta’wil, haqiqat va nass: Goftogu-ye Kiyan ba Nasr Hamed Abu Zayd. Kiyan 54: 2–17. Kermani, Navid. 2004. From Revelation to Interpretation: Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd and the Literary Study of the Qur’an. In Modern Muslim Intellectuals and the Qur’an, ed. Suha Taji-Farouki, 169–192. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Krämer, Gudrun, and Sabine Schmidtke. 2006a. Introduction: Religious Authority and Religious Authorities in Muslim Societies. A Critical Overview. In Speaking for Islam: Religious Authorities in Muslim Societies, ed. Gudrun Krämer and Sabine Schmidtke, 1–14. Leiden: Brill. ———, eds. 2006b. Speaking for Islam: Religious Authorities in Muslim Societies. Leiden: Brill. Kurzman, Charles, ed. 1998. Liberal Islam: A Sourcebook. New York: Oxford University Press. Larsen, Lena, Kari Vogt, and Christian Moe, eds. 2009. New Directions in Islamic Thought: Exploring Reform and Muslim Tradition. London: I.B. Tauris. Mandaville, Peter. 2007. Globalization and the politics of religious knowledge: Pluralizing authority in the Muslim world. Theory, Culture & Society 24 (2): 101–115. Miller, Kathryn A. 2008. Guardians of Islam: Religious Authority and Muslim Communities of Late Nedieval Spain. New York: Columbia University Press. Nettler, Ronald L., Mohamed Mahmoud, and John Cooper, eds. 1998. Islam and Modernity: Muslim Intellectuals Respond. London: I.B. Tauris.

9  Pluralism in Contemporary Islamic Thought: The Case of Mohammed Arkoun, Nasr… 169 Shepard, William. 2008. The Diversity of Islamic Thought: Toward a Typology. In Islamic Thought in the Twentieth Century, ed. Suha Taj-Farouki and Basheer M. Nafi. London: I.B. Tauris. Sikand, Yoginder. 2011. For a plurality of koranic interpretations: Interview with Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd. Qantara. https://en.qantara.de/content/interview-­with-­nasr-­hamid-­abu-­zayd-­for-­a-­ plurality-­of-­koranic-­interpretations. Accessed 5 Dec 2019. Soroush, Abdolkarim. 1993. Farbehtar az ideolojy. Kiyan 14: 2–20. ———. 1998. The Evolution and Devolution of Religious Knowledge. In Liberal Islam: A Sourcebook, ed. Charles Kurzman, 244–251. New York: Oxford University Press. ———. Reason, Freedom and Democracy in Islam, ed. Mahmoud Sadri and Ahmad Sadri. New York: Oxford University Press. Soroush, Abdolkarim and Mohsen Kadivar. 2008. Religious pluralism: Kadivar, Soroush debate. https://drsoroush.com/en/religious-­pluralism-­kadivar-­soroush-­debate/. Accessed 5 Dec 2019. Soroush, Abdolkarim. 2009. In The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, ed. Forough Jahanbakhsh. Leiden: Brill. Taji-Farouki, Suha, ed. 2004. Modern Muslim Intellectuals and the Qurʼan. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Volpi, Frédéric, and Bryan S. Turner. 2007. Introduction: Making Islamic authority matter. Theory, Culture & Society 24 (2): 1–19. Zaman, Muhammad Qasim. 2002. The Ulama in Contemporary Islam: Custodians of Change. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Chapter 10

Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought Taraneh R. Wilkinson

Abstract  The Islamic concept of “tawḥīd” or Divine Unity is more than a simple affirmation that God is One. It lies at the heart of Islamic spirituality, thought, and practice. It is a concept with a rich semantic field and complex philosophical connotations. Tawḥīd affirms God’s incomparable unity in such a way as to embrace the plurality of existence and infuse it with life and meaning. Tawḥīd, in the context of Turkish Muslim thought, has functioned as a conceptual tool for addressing difference to suggest ways of engaging the challenges posed by skepticism and the truth-­ claims of other religions within an Islamic context. This chapter lays out various Turkish Muslim theological interpretations and applications of tawḥīd (Turkish: tevhid) to the phenomena of religious pluralism and global diversity, and then turns to the work of theologian Şaban Ali Düzgün as a case study. The paper concludes with the observation that, in both Düzgün’s work and in Turkish discussions on pluralism more generally, tawḥīd serves as both a limit and a facilitator to pluralism. Keywords  Divine Unity · tawḥīd · ilahiyat · Turkish Muslim theology · Şaban Ali Düzgün · Suleyman Ateş · Fatma Barbarosoğlu · Said Nursi

10.1  Introduction There is no respite, friend, from your suffering, as long as you do not realize it is a test! There is no escape from these dark corridors, unless you cast aside the feeble luminescence of treacherous street lamps and take refuge in the light of the one who has given you your

T. R. Wilkinson (*) Foundation for Religious Studies “John XXIII”, Bologna, Italy e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_10

171

172

T. R. Wilkinson

pain. For as long as you cannot take refuge in the light of tawhid amid darkness, you are condemned to darkness. (Gülisten Dertli1)

Many Muslims and non-Muslims alike understand tawḥīd as an affirmation of God’s existence and unity. Yet in the words of Gülisten Dertli, a popular author for the Turkish Diyanet online publication Bedirhaber, tawḥīd is not merely the affirmation of God’s existence. Nor is she alone. For many Muslims tawḥīd entails a host of connotations and is bound up in some of the most intimate aspects of an individual believers’ relationship to the One God. As Dertli indicates, tawḥīd means saving knowledge, as well as a special state or relationship of the believer to God. Tawḥīd is the secret of God’s nurturing presence in darkest adversity. Tawḥīd is the unbending and inescapable reality of all Creation’s submission to its Creator. Tawḥīd is light. To embrace it brings hope, insight, peace, and safety. In short, for Dertli and many others, tawḥīd is a holistic matter that engages the believer in the entirety of her being, determining her relationship to both her Creator and the rest of Creation. Thus, it is an individual orientation that sees only God, on the one hand, and receives the multiplicity of created beings as they come from God, on the other. Importantly, and as this chapter will explore, this dual relationship to God and world contains elements of both inclusion and exclusion, rendering tawḥīd an important element in Turkish responses to human diversity and other religions. To take another popular Turkish example of a holistic reading of tawḥīd, contemporary Sufi author Cemalnur Sargut takes up the task of defining tawḥīd. She explains: Tevhid [tawḥīd] is a difficult concept to grasp...Tevhid is to feel that the work of the Divine is in all things, so tevhid is the ability to love all things. As Yunus Emre said, “I love the created for the sake of the Creator.” By this he meant that he saw Him in everything, and loved Him in everything. Tevhid is the beginning and the end of everything. Pre-eternity and eternity begin with tevhid. We manifest from the One...Everything comes from the One and returns to the One.2

In this sense, the Islamic concept of “tawḥīd” or Divine Unity is more than a simple affirmation that God is One. While not a quranic term, it lies at the heart of Islamic spirituality, thought, and practice. An Arabic word indicating the affirmation of God’s oneness, tawḥīd has a long history and can indicate anything from verbally affirming that “God is one” to a metaphysical or mystical view on reality’s most fundamental fabric, as seen in Sargut’s definition. It is a concept with a rich semantic field and complex philosophical connotations. To give a more concrete illustration in the Turkish context, the research library of the Center of Islamic Studies in Istanbul catalogues tawḥīd (Turkish: tevhid or Allahın birliği) under beliefs and  Gülistan Dertli, “Anahtarı Var Açılmaz Sanılan Kapıların,” http://bedirhaber.com/gulistan-dertliyazilari/anahtari-var-acilmaz-sanilan-kapilarin-58114.html, accessed December 6, 2018). In Turkish: “O dertten kurtuluş yok arkadaş imtihan olduğunu anlamadıkça! O karanlık sokaklardan çıkış yok yalancı sokak lambalarının cılız ışıltılarını yok sayıp, derdi verenin nuruna sığınmadıkça. Karanlıklar içindeki tevhid nurunun aydınlığına sığınmadıkça karanlığa mahkumsun.” 2  Cemalnur Sargut, Beauty and Light: Mystical Discourses of a Contemporary Female Sufi Master (n.p. Fons Vitae, 2018), 95. 1

10  Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought

173

theology, in its own distinct sub-category of necessary being, following the two sub-­ categories proof of necessary being and attributes of necessary being.3 Tawḥīd thus includes but goes beyond a simple affirmation of monotheism. Among other things, it tags the philosophical and theological underpinnings of the concept of monotheism—these underpinnings are significant for Turkish Muslim theological formulations of the religious other. This chapter considers tawḥīd’s philosophical and theological significance for religious pluralism according to Turkish Muslim scholars and argues that these philosophical and theological readings of tawḥīd affirm God’s incomparable unity in such a way as to address the plurality of existence and religious beliefs. The use of tawḥīd to address human diversity is not unique to Turkey. Outside of Turkey, this approach to tawḥīd has also appeared in some contemporary Muslim discussions of gender and difference.4 In such discussions tawḥīd has functioned as a conceptual tool for addressing difference in the context of religious pluralism. Specifically, in Turkish Muslim thought, tawḥīd is often understood as the kernel of a dynamic and authentic Islam that embraces change and difference over the course of human history, providing a point of Islamic engagement with skepticism and the truth-claims of non-Muslim religions.

10.2  C  ontemporary Turkish Theology (Dis-)/Engagements with Religious Pluralism Before addressing Turkish Muslim uses of tawḥīd for addressing religious pluralism, it may be helpful, first, to examine how Turkish Muslim scholars engage and frame the question of religious pluralism. While British scholar Alan Race is credited for introducing the terminological trio of religious exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism in his work Christians and Religious Pluralism (1983), the expression “religious pluralism” (in Turkish “dini çoğulculuk” or “dinsel çoğulculuk”) means different things to different people. For some, it might represent a Western hegemonic claim to truth disguised as an affirmation of lived diversity. For others, it might simply mean the de facto plurality of created existence. Therefore, it is important to keep in mind that a range of attitudes towards pluralism exists within 3  Founded in 1984, the İSAM library contains over 250,000 physical books, the archives of influential Ottoman and Turkish thinkers, as well as a database with comprehensive archive listings throughout the whole of Turkey. Its catalogue follows the Dewey decimal system, including extensive subsections on Islam and Islamic sciences. Their catalogue is based on Dewey Onlu Tasnif ve Relatif Endeks, 15th Printing (Istanbul: Millî Eğitim Basımevi, 1962). 4  In her seminal work Qur’an and Woman (1992), Amina Wadud famously used the concept of tawḥīd to affirm that God transcends gender and therefore does not favor a specific gender, leaving gender as a category of difference divinely willed as part of human creation. Jerusha T. Lamptey, in her monograph Never Wholly Other (2014), expanded on the discussion of gender difference in Islam to apply it to questions of religious pluralism, affirming tawḥīd as the grounds for Muslims to uphold the divine plan for a common humanity that comes to know itself through difference.

174

T. R. Wilkinson

and outside Muslim contexts. For instance, Protestant evangelical scholar Donald Arthur Carson, whose work The Gagging of God appeared amid an explosion of discussions on religious pluralism in the mid-1990s, defined three types of pluralism, which he labeled empirical, cherished, and philosophical/hermeneutical pluralism. For Carson, empirical pluralism is simply the fact of diversity, cherished pluralism is the positive valuing of said diversity, and philosophical pluralism tries to posit and derive meaning from a plurality of ultimate philosophical truths. Of these three he blamed philosophical pluralism for enforcing a relativistic tyranny, writing, “...the gospel of relativistic tolerance is perhaps the most ‘evangelical’ movement in Western culture at the moment, demanding assent and brooking no rivals.”5 Carson’s critical views of pluralism are not without parallels in contemporary Turkish Muslim thought and culture. For example, popular pious author and sociologist Fatma Barbarosoğlu, as part of her critique of fashion and consumer-­ culture, has argued that hype about pluralism is both superficial and detrimental to actual local diversity.6 While she does not argue that local identity must stand in opposition to globalization, she has expressed concerns that pluralism is not quite as positive as scholars like to imply. That is, for her, pluralism connotes the potentially negative impacts of globalization on at-risk local and rural communities rather than erudite philosophical ideals.7 Framing Barbarosoğlu’s position in Carson’s terms, not only is cherished pluralism irrelevant to the lives of marginalized believers, the very discourse of cherished pluralism serves to harm the actual empirical pluralism that has already served as an integral part of the now threatened local identity. In addition to critical suspicions towards cherished pluralism, there are many Turkish Muslims who outright reject philosophical pluralism, interpreting tawḥīd as something that applies exclusively to Muslims. For example, the late kalām scholar Mevlut Özler (1957–2014) went so far as to dismiss early Muslim accounts of Christian and Jewish ḥanīfs (monotheists), firmly denying that Jews or Christians could be faithful monotheists or affirm tawḥīd.8 This kind of reading not only discards pluralism as a normative value, it frames tawḥīd as an exclusive rather than an inclusive concept. Alongside negative responses to pluralism, Turkish Muslim intellectuals also participate in traditions of positive dialogue, particularly with Western Christian culture. For instance, Said Nursi (1877–1960), a Kurdish Sunni Muslim born in the Turkish village of Nurs under the Ottoman Empire, called for unity between Muslims and true Christians prior to the Vatican II push for increased understanding and cooperation between Muslims and Christians.9 Nursi sent one of the first legally 5  Donald Arthur Carson, The Gagging of God: Christianity Confronts Pluralism (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 33. 6  Fatma Barbarosoğlu, Sözüm Söz [My Word is Word] (İstanbul: Profil Yayıncılık, 2012), 43. 7  Barbarosoğlu, Sözüm Söz, 44. 8  Mevlüt Özler, İslâm Düşüncesinde Tevhid [Tawhid in Islamic Thought] (Istanbul: Rağbet Yayınları, 2005), 44. 9  Thomas Michel, Insights from the Risale-i nur: Said Nursi’s advice for modern believers (Clifton, NJ: Tughra Books, 2013), 2.

10  Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought

175

printed copies of his magnum opus Risale-i Nur to Pope Pius XII ten years before the opening of Vatican II.10 While not a pluralist, Nursi’s thought and example of dialogue remains influential for many Turkish Muslims. An openness to intellectual and interreligious dialogue can also be seen in aspects of Turkish Muslim academic theology. Turkish “ilahiyat” or theology faculties are state-funded institutes of higher education. Founded in the early moments of the modern Turkish Republic (the first unsuccessfully in 1924 and the second in 1949), these faculties combine traditional Islamic sciences and “modern” (read: “Western”) approaches to the study of religion—including non-Muslim religion.11 Turkish Muslim theologians not only apply secular methods to the study of religion, they actively engage non-Muslim philosophical and theological thought. For this reason, Turkish Muslim theologians have addressed Euro-American Christian philosophical and theological treatments of religious pluralism as well as non-Turkish Muslim responses to religious pluralism. The first well-known discussion of this kind in Turkish theology dealt with matters of exclusivism and inclusivism without reference to non-Turkish debates.12 Rather than speaking of exclusivism and inclusivism, the debate was framed in terms of whether Islam had a monopoly over heaven. This Turkish debate over who possessed a “heaven monopoly” took place in the late 1980s and early 1990s between Turkish theology faculty members Suleyman Ateş (b. 1933) and Talat Koçyiğit (1927–2011). Ateş argued that Islam did not possess a heaven monopoly whereas Koçyiğit argued that Islam was the only path to heaven. While earlier debates in the late 1980s on the status of other religions were grounded in Islamic categories and were initially done without reference to the typology of exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism; over the last several decades the discussion has been replete with non-Islamic terms, non-Turkish figures, and appropriations of Race’s famous paradigm.13 In particular, Turkish Muslim theologians tend to engage most heavily the works of Protestant philosopher John Hick and those of Muslim philosopher Seyyed Hossein Nasr. Both Hick and Nasr have famously offered philosophically unifying accounts of the phenomenon of religious pluralism, affirming at least partial truth in various religious truth-claims via a singular philosophical framework largely determined by each scholar’s respective religious background.  Michel, Insights, 5.  Felix Körner, Philip Dorroll, and Taraneh Wilkinson have written on the “modern” qualities of Turkish Muslim academic theology. See for instance, Felix Körner, Rethinking Islam: Revisionist Koran Hermeneutics in Contemporary Turkish University Theology (Würzburg: Ergon Press, 2005); Philip C.  Dorroll, “The Turkish Understanding of Religion: Rethinking Tradition and Modernity in Contemporary Turkish Islamic Thought,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 82 (2014), 1033–1069; Taraneh Wilkinson, Dialectical Encounters: Contemporary Turkish Muslim Thought in Dialogue (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2019). 12  For a detailed summary of this debate, see Cafer S. Yaran’s “Non-exclusivist Attitudes towards Other Religions,” in Change and Essence: Dialectical Relations Between Change and Continuity in the Turkish Intellectual Tradition, eds. Sinasi Gunduz and Cafer S. Yaran (Washington, DC: The Council for Research and Values in Philosophy, 2005). 13  Cafer S. Yaran, “Non-Exclusivist Attitudes Towards Other Religions in Recent Turkish Theology and Philosophy of Religion,” 16. 10 11

176

T. R. Wilkinson

For instance, philosopher of religion Cafer S. Yaran has hailed Hick’s pluralism as a completely new paradigm for philosophy of religion, something that points beyond a simple call for tolerance.14 Even within this paradigm, plurality is still affirmed within a framework of unity. Further, Turkish affirmation of plurality, though in engagement with the legacies of Hick and Nasr, tends to present itself as an expression of Maturidite theology, which in the Turkish context is understood as compatible with religious humanism and a robust role for free human agency.15 Other Turkish Muslim theologians, not without criticism, have even appealed to deism as an Islamically justifiable framework for dialogue and harmony with other religions.16 Terminology that addresses religious diversity in terms of both unity and plurality dates back at least as early as the 1950s. Hilmi Ziya Ülken (1901–1974) wrote in his 1958 preface of his seminal Aşk Ahlâkı (1931) of a “unity in plurality” (çoklukta birlik) citing the French “monopluralisme” as a philosophy that he claimed can be found in the thought of Plato, Plotinus, Nicolas of Cusa, Giordani Bruno, Schelling, James M.  Baldwin, and Bergson.17 This monopluralism bespeaks an embrace of infinite human diversity as well as a confidence that, amid this diversity, unifying truth and solidarity across humanity remains possible. As Ülken writes in Aşk Ahlâkı, “Let us address each person in the language they are accustomed to. Let us not measure anyone with truths foreign [to them]. Let us do nothing other than help to bring to the surface the treasures [already] sleeping beneath their consciousness. Let us find the spirit of truth together.”18 He states his purpose is to accept human diversity, while affirming a uniting flame of truth that transcends individual and cultural differences: “Do not a soldier, a merchant, a poet, someone from India, a European, a villager seem as distant from one another as planets? Yet, the forge of infinite passion boiling within humans burns with the same flame.”19 In another mid-­ century example, Hüsnü Tekşen offered in his 1940 Vicdan Felsefesi (Philosophy of Conscience) the following analogy: God moves through all manner of creation enlivening it according to its individual nature, just as electricity animates a wide variety of appliances differently.20 As will be seen, this view of a divine unifying  Cafer S. Yaran, Bilgelik Peşinde [In Pursuit of Wisdom] (Istanbul: Ensar Naşriyat, 2011), 254–5.  For a historically informed analysis of contemporary articulations of Maturidite responses to religious reform and diversity see Dorroll, Philip C.  Dorroll, “The Turkish Understanding of Religion: Rethinking Tradition and Modernity in Contemporary Turkish Islamic Thought.” 16  The late Yaşar Nuri Öztürk (d. 2016) famously espoused such a position. Turkish Muslim literature for and against deism has since seen an uptick. 17  Hilmi Ziya Ülken, Aşk Ahlâkı, 3rd edition (Ankara: Demirbaş Yayınları, 1971), xxix. The preface cited is from the 1958 edition of the Aşk Ahlâkı, whose title translates to Morals of Love. 18  Ülken, Aşk Ahlâkı, 3rd edition (Ankara: Demirbaş Yayınları, 1971), 11. Turkish: “Herkese kendi alıştığı dille hitap edelim. Hiç kimseyi yabancı hakikatlarla karşılaştırmıyalım. Onlara şuurlarının altında uyuyan hazineyi meydana çıkarmaları için yardım etmekten başka bir şey yapmıyalım. Seninle ruhun hakikatını bulalım.” 19  Ülken, Aşk Ahlâkı, 3rd edition (Ankara: Demirbaş Yayınları, 1971), 11. Turkish: “Bir asker, bir tüccar, bir şair, bir Hintli, bir Avrupalı ve bir köylü birbirinden gezegenler kadar uzak görünmezler mi? Fakat, insanın içinde kaynayan nihayetsiz ihtiras ocağı aynı ateşle yanmaktadır.” 20  Hüsnü Tekşen, Vicdan Felsefesi (Istanbul: Mustafa Asım Matbaası, 1940), 23. 14 15

10  Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought

177

purpose embracing the radical diversity of human experience is shared by contemporary theologians, like Şaban Ali Düzgün, whom this chapter discusses below. Within academic Turkish Muslim theology plurality has often been understood as a positive given, a divine blessing that is made possible by a unified underlying reality: tawḥīd. So how do plurality and unity relate to the question of religious pluralism? While Turkish Muslim theologians hail from various sub-disciplines, such as kalām, philosophy of religion, and history of religions, many theologians approach questions of religious pluralism through a dual lens of plurality and unity. In the words of the late kalām scholar Bekir Topaloğlu (1932–2016), “Every individual who seeks God commences from their own point of understanding, feeling, and intuition, using their own will. From this view, there are as many ways [to God] as there are people. However, all of these roads leading to truth unite into one single road after a certain point. This road is called ‘The Straight Path’ in the terminology of the Qur’ān.”21 It is this sense that Turkish Muslims are likely to affirm empirical pluralism and cherished pluralism within an Islamic paradigm, while simultaneously rejecting philosophical pluralism. According to such a view, plurality is real and divinely intended, but said plurality does not lead to a religious pluralism that affirms multiple ultimate realities. In other words, religious pluralism, when taken up in Turkish Muslim theology, does not entail relativism or agnosticism about ultimate reality as part of a legitimate Muslim response to religious diversity, even if some Turkish theologians express openness or agnosticism concerning the salvation of some non-Muslims.22 Instead, the response of Turkish Muslim theologians has often been to affirm diversity and plurality within a framework of Divine Unity. Or as historian of religion Mahmut Aydın advocated in The Myth of Religious Superiority,23 truth is like Rūmī’s elephant—individuals who cannot see its totality may describe different parts of ultimate reality with accuracy and still fail to agree. Someone who reaches out and feels an ear as opposed to a leg, or the tail as opposed to the trunk will disagree on the nature of the elephant when speaking with someone who has experienced a different part of the elephant. Yet, the elephant is one and all its constituent parts are subsumed under its living unity—as with the elephant, so too with God. Although Mahmut Aydın’s understanding of pluralism is that “those who attain God’s grace are saved by their own religious traditions independently  Bekir Topaloğlu, Preface 2  in Özler, İslâm Düşüncesinde Tevhid (Istanbul: Rağbet Yayınları, 2005), 11. Original Turkish: “Allah’a ulaşmak isteyen her fert kendi iradesini kullanarak kendi anlayış, duyuş ve seziş noktasından hareket eder. Bu bakımdan yollar insanlar sayısınca çoktur. Ancak hakka yönelen bütün yollar bir süre sonra bir tek yolda birleşir. Bu yol Kur’an terminolojisinde ‘sırat-ı müstakim’ adıyla yer almıştır.” 22  Agnosticism about salvation and the openness to the possibility of multiple salvations can be found in some Turkish Muslim discussions, for example the work of Mahmut Aydın, who has accepted the possibility of multiple salvations, and in the work of Adnan Aslan, who has entertained the thought of Classical Muslim thinker Muhammad Al-Ghazali to leave open an agnostic stance towards non-Muslims seeking truth. See, for instance, Adnan Aslan, Dinî Çoğulculuk, Ateizm, ve Geleksel Ekol: Eleştirel Bir Yaklaşım (Istanbul: İSAM Yayınları, 2010). 23  Mahmut Aydın, “A Muslim Pluralist: Jalaluddin Rûmi,” in The Myth of Religious Superiority: A Multifaith Exploration, ed. Paul F. Knitter (New York: Orbis Books, 2005): 220–236. 21

178

T. R. Wilkinson

from others,”24 plurality is nevertheless affirmed within the framework of unity. This is not to say that Turkish Muslim theologians form a tidy consensus on the appropriateness of the label “pluralism” nor is it to say that they neglect other uses of the term religious pluralism. In The Dictionary of Muslim and Christian Concepts (İslamiyet-Hıristiyanlık Kavramları Sözlüğü), the philosopher of religion Rahim Acar splits pluralism (“çoğulculuk”) into “descriptive” and “normative” types.25 When it comes to religious pluralism, Acar understands pluralism to mean something normative: either the claim that multiple religions are true, or the call to dialogue fruitfully with other religions. When it comes to the Qur’ān or Muslim societies, he identifies historical and scriptural precedence for affirming social and political pluralism as well as limited forms of legal pluralism. Nevertheless, Acar states that the most common Muslim approaches, including Sufi formulations, hold that truth is one.26

10.3  Tawḥīd (Divine Unity) as the Foundation of Pluralism Returning to the central notion of Divine Unity, Turkish Muslim theologians, along with Muslims around the world, stress the irrecusable connection between human nature and consciousness of ultimate truth. According to this view, human beings are by nature monotheistic and created to know and acknowledge God as the ultimate reality. This connection proves central to Turkish Muslim articulations of human nature and, by extension, human diversity. As one example, Mevlüt Özler’s comparative study of the concept of tawḥīd in Maturidite, Ash‘arite, and Mu‘tazilite theological sources, entitled Tawḥīd in Islamic Thought (Turkish title: İslam Düşüncesinde Tevhid, 2005), states without ambiguity that Islam’s essence is tawḥīd.27 For Özler not only is tawḥīd the core of Islam, but it is also the human inheritance from God. If human beings are thinking and civilizational animals, then it directly follows for Özler that human beings are also religious animals.28 The core of this basic religiosity is unadulterated monotheism. Özler notes that even the Jahiliyya, or the period of ethical and religious ignorance of pre-Islamic Arab peoples, was replete with monotheistic beliefs.29 This monotheistic consciousness is reaffirmed and purified with the arrival of Muhammad’s prophetic mission to include not only an affirmation that God exists, but also a clear negation that any   Mahmut Aydin [sic.], “Religious Pluralism: A Challenge for Muslims—A Theological Evaluation,” Journal of Ecumenical Studies 38 (2001), 336. 25  Rahim Acar, “Çoğulculuk (İsl.),” in İslamiyet-Hıristiyanlık Kavramları Sözlüğü, vol 1, eds. Mualla Selçuk, Halis Albayrak, Peter Antes, Richard Heinzmann, Martin Thurner (Ankara: Ankara Üniversitesi Yayınevi, 2013), 130. 26  Rahim Acar, “Çoğulculuk (İsl.),” 131. 27  Özler, İslâm Düşüncesinde Tevhid, 21. 28  Ibid, 24. 29  Ibid, 35. 24

10  Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought

179

other being can exist alongside God.30 Such monotheistic consciousness is a function of human beings’ primal and fundamental nature or fiṭra, as Özler remarks without hesitation, “Human beings since they were created, in every epoch of history, have always carried within them the idea of an essential being as Lord and Creator of all things. Thus, belief in God is natural, universal, and necessary for all human beings. A human whose original nature (fiṭra) has not been corrupted always feels a desire and need for God within herself and powerfully senses God’s presence.”31 Despite its philosophical associations, tawḥīd is nonetheless viewed as a pervasive, universal human intuition. Mustafa Said Yazıcıoğlu elaborates that tawḥīd, in contrast to the Christian notion of the Trinity, is a simple, easy-to-grasp concept that is properly suited to each person’s primal, God-given nature. Despite the conceptual elegance of tawḥīd, he laments that the concept is not fully appropriated in Muslim culture today; whereas Western Christian thought and religion have invested heavily in developing the philosophical implications of trinitarian approaches to divinity.32 Similar sentiments manifest in Recep Şentürk’s review of Adnan Aslan’s Religious Pluralism in Christian and Islamic Philosophy: The Thought of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr (1998). Şentürk stresses the importance of considering the deep, underlying philosophical assumptions endemic to a religious or academic tradition and the dangers of ignoring said dimensions when tackling global issues and religious pluralism. For this reason Şentürk values approaches that examine the question of pluralism with an eye to exploring deeper philosophical assumptions.33 I argue that exploring the deeper philosophical assumptions concerning religious pluralism in a Turkish Muslim context requires attending to the various functions of tawḥīd. As we have seen so far, the concept of Divine Unity can be used to embrace diversity or reject certain kinds of diversity. Some might criticize Turkish Muslim responses to pluralism for dismissing the more unsettling challenges of religious pluralism by invoking this notion of unity. However, it is worth mentioning that the philosophical drive to think of reality in terms of unity is in no way limited to Muslim thought. From Protestant philosopher of religion John Hick34 to  Ibid, 24.  Ibid, 13. Original Turkish: “İnsanoğlu yaratıldığından beri, tarihin her döneminde, içinde, her şeyin rabbi ve yaratıcısı olan bir zatın varlığı fikrini daima taşımıştır. Allah inancı insanlarda fıtrî, umumî ve zarurîdir. Fıtratı bozulmamış insan bir ilâha yönelme arzu ve ihtiyacını kendi içinde daima duyar ve onun varlığını kuvvetle hisseder.” Note: Turkish does not have gendered pronouns; I have defaulted the Turkish he/she pronoun to “she” as the translator. 32  Mustafa Said Yazıcıoğlu, Preface 1 in İslâm Düşüncesinde Tevhid (Istanbul: Rağbet Yayınları, 2005), 9. 33  Recep Şentürk, review of Religious Pluralism in Christian and Islamic Philosophy: The Thought of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr, by Adnan Aslan, İslâm Araştırmaları Dergisi 2 (1998), 251–252. 34  John Hick converted to an Evangelical form of Christianity, later moved away from fundamentalism during his initial university studies, and was a member of the United Reformed Church for much of his life. By the end of his life, he had moved away from traditional forms of Christianity 30 31

180

T. R. Wilkinson

non-­Muslim and secular discourses of pluralism, which try to subsume other truth claims within a framework of higher-order philosophical knowing or shared values, the tendency to treat plurality within unifying explanatory frameworks, whether descriptive or normative, is pervasive if not unavoidable across philosophical disciplines. The issue is, therefore, not so much the fact that Turkish responses to pluralism subsume plurality under unity, but the issue is rather how plurality functions in relation to unity that matters most. To look at how plurality functions in relation to the unity of ultimate reality, our discussion now turns to the work of Turkish theologian and kalām scholar Şaban Ali Düzgün (b. 1968-). Düzgün’s thought provides an illustrative example of a constructive theological application of tawḥīd to the phenomena of religious pluralism and global diversity.

10.4  The Case of Şaban Ali Düzgün: The Plurality of Tawḥīd Şaban Ali Düzgün is the head of the Kelam (kalām) Sub-department at the Ankara University İlahiyat Faculty; he draws on Maturidite theology to affirm the profound connection between human freedom, diversity, and tawḥīd. Şaban Ali Düzgün’s work tackles what it means to be religious in a contemporary, global context and writes specifically to his Turkish Muslim audience about the struggles of living an authentically Muslim and globally engaged life. As part of his work he stresses the importance of religious freedom and diversity in Islam and also takes up Christian theologians’ responses to contemporary challenges of unbelief, skepticism, and the truth-claims of other religions. In order to situate pious identity in a hectic, modern world, Düzgün speaks to a shared human morality and grounds his case in an understanding of tawḥīd. For him, when God is recognized as wholly other, our connection to God is moral.35 God as Creator and sender of revelation presupposes and entails the human ability to have knowledge of God by logic and inference, and it is the fiṭra, or fundamental human nature, that allows individuals to seek God-knowledge with accuracy.36 Seeking God beyond the causal chain of events is something done with the ‘aql, or reason, according to Classical kalām and is something done through love for Sufis.37 Still, humanity’s connection with God transcends physical and even metaphysical considerations. More than an abstract consideration, this connection is a locus of and would attend Quaker meetings. “Obiturary: Professor John Hick,” Telegraph, February 16, 2012, https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/religion-obituaries/9087324/Professor-JohnHick.html 35  Şaban Ali Düzgün, Allah, Tabiat ve Tarih: Teolijide Yöntem Sorunu ve Teolojinin Metaparadigmatik Temelleri [God, Nature and History: The Question of Method in Theology and Theology’s Metaparadigmatic Foundations] (Ankara: Lotus Yayınevi, 2005; 2012), 63. 36  Düzgün, Allah, Tabiat ve Tarih, 131. 37  Ibdi, 134.

10  Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought

181

existential meaning.38 While knowledge of God is possible and important, the fundamental tie between a human being and God is a matter of the heart and not of the head. Nonetheless, when Düzgün argues for the authority of ‘aql, he uses the term in ways that suggest a dynamic synthesis of heart and thought.39 Similar to late Ottoman intellectuals who saw in Western modernity a dehumanized mechanization of reason and drew on both Sufi and subversive European intellectual trends to reemphasize the importance of a holistic approach to knowing,40 Düzgün refers to traditional Muslim understandings of the heart, listing six layers of the heart that go beyond the ‘aql or mind: ṣadr, qalb, fu’ad, lubb, nuhā, and hijr.41 Heart-felt recognition of God’s reality is not something achieved in opposition to logic, but rather is attained along a scale of deepening understanding. Only at the fourth level of the heart, the lubb, does one achieve full realization of tawḥīd or divine unity. Thus, monotheism is not simply a matter of logic and propositions but also a much deeper journey of knowledge, self-knowledge, and self-actualization. It is the act of seeking and trying to understand God which sustains humans. God is not an object of thought but an essential part of an individual’s thought process.42 In other words, God stands in intimate relationship to human beings through human cognitive and affective processes. Moreover, the centrality of the individual’s primal relationship to God (which contains cognitive dimensions) means that internal authority and, as I have argued elsewhere, mediated individual authority play a central role in successfully living out religion.43 Düzgün further stresses the value of divinely-willed plurality as essential to humanity’s and all of creation’s flourishing. Tawḥīd provides the foundation for this plurality. Not only is it foundational for the flourishing of human plurality (and thus what some call empirical pluralism), the framework of tawḥīd also provides the grounds for the affirmation of individual agency, which I read as a limited form of “cherished” pluralism and possibly a limited philosophical pluralism. Even though it would be erroneous to claim that Düzgün supports absolute relativism or multiple possible ultimate realities, by putting the individual  Ibid, 152.  Düzgün uses the terms ‘aql and qalb nearly interchangeably in Allah, Tabiat ve Tarih, 125. The combining of both heart and mind into one term like ‘aql or fu’ad is not uncommon in the classical Arabic tradition. For instance, Farid Jabré’s study of al-Ghazālī’s terminology strongly emphasizes the functional interchangeability of the words ‘aql (mind) and qalb (heart) — see his Essai sur le lexique de Ghazali (Beirut: Lebanese University Publications, 1970). 40  Nazım İrem writes, “Bergon’s anti-scientism, blended with Romanticism, was the source of a new aestheticism that was based on a new conception of the human being as an intuitively creative free agent.” İrem, “Bergson and Politics: Ottoman-Turkish Encounters with Innovation,” The European Legacy 16 (2011): 874. İrem goes on to show how late Ottoman and Turkish intellectuals adapted Bergsonism to their own context. 41  Düzgün, ATT, 208. Note, for instance, that “nuhā” is a Quranic term associated with the ability to think (cf. Q 20:54). In this sense, Düzgün’s understanding of the heart does not exclude faculties of intelligence. 42  Düzgün, ATT, 153. Catholic theologian Karl Rahner has famously made a similar argument in his Hearer of the Word, published first in German in 1941. 43  See chapters five and six of Taraneh Wilkinson, Dialectical Encounters. 38 39

182

T. R. Wilkinson

connection between human being and God as the locus of internal authority, Düzgün affirms individuals are free to pursue relationship to truth qua individuals in all their cultural, linguistic, intellectual and individual diversity. By locating human dignity, plurality, and authority in the relationship between Creator and individual, Düzgün affirms both plurality and unity. That is, God accounts for unity in the Creator-­ creature connection, whilst human beings enjoy a plurality of relations to one another and to the divine. Thus his position is consonant with a limited “normative” pluralism in that it values human diversity as a necessary and normative quality for human flourishing and, moreover, validates individuals’ diverse relationships to the One God, without postulating multiple Ultimate Realities or an ultimately unknowable Ultimate Reality à la Hick. In short, Düzgün’s understanding of the role of tawḥīd regarding questions of pluralism and individual agency integrates long-standing Islamic concerns with humanistic values and contemporary issues. Moreover, he affirms that God is as good as God is powerful and by articulating the God-human relationship as one that facilitates individual agency and dignity rather than erases it. For Düzgün, tawḥīd means affirming that God’s power and goodness are one.44 As an act of surrender to God, tawḥīd is an orientation. It is the believer’s orientation to truth. Importantly, an orientation to one truth does not necessarily negate orientations to other creaturely, i.e. finite, dimensions of reality. However, it does shape the believer’s relationship to the plurality of finite existence. And although Islam is characterized by an affirmation of God’s oneness, this should not be confused with a rejection of the plurality of creation or the plurality of human existence. For Düzgün, Islam does not reject human difference, neither does it take our differences as fundamental to our human character.45 Difference exists. Difference is healthy and necessary. Humanity remains nevertheless one. What is more, tawḥīd is a central concept in making unified sense of this human difference. Affirming God’s unity goes hand in hand with affirming human plurality. Düzgün refers to Q49:13 to stress God’s plan for human plurality.46 The verse reads: “People, We created you all from a single man and a single woman, and made you into races and tribes so that you should come to know one another. In God’s eyes, the most honored of you are the ones most mindful of Him: God is all knowing, all aware.”47 Tawḥīd is not merely about unity, it is also about the plurality of finite reality.48 For Düzgün, the human relation to the plurality

 Düzgün, Allah, Tabiat ve Tarih, 141.  Şaban Ali Düzgün, Din, Birey ve Toplum [Religion, Individual and Society], 3rd Edition (Ankara: Akçağ Yayınları, 2013), 38. 46  Düzgün, Din, Birey ve Toplum, 117. Also in Düzgün, Çağdaş Dünyada Din ve Dindarlar [Religion and Religious People in the Contemporary World] (Ankara: Lotus Yayınevi, 2012; 2014), 207–208. 47  English translation is a modification of the M.A.S. Abdel Haleem translation. 48  To compare, Muslim scholar Jerusha T.  Lamptey’s work Never Wholly Other: A Muslima Theology of Religious Pluralism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014) also emphasizes the significance of this quranic passage and takes up the category of difference in the context of religious pluralism. 44 45

10  Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought

183

of finite reality is one of moral integrity and individual freedom thanks to the believer’s connection to the One God. In other words, the positing of human diversity as God’s plan for human flourishing goes beyond acknowledging the fact of empirical plurality. As a guarantor of human freedom, tawḥīd is also the guarantor of human morality—affirming God’s oneness and affirming God as the sole true source of one’s being—frees the individual from the claims of the world upon her person, empowering her to live a life of rectitude even in the face of external corrupting pressures. With God as the ultimate authority, the pious individual cannot be forced to recognize the unquestioned authority of any being other than God.49 Thus, in affirming tawḥīd, all earthly sources of authority are recognized as finite and relative.50 God alone is the ultimate source of authority. This clarity of purpose and consciousness, Düzgün reminds his reader, is to be found amid the first Muslims, who distinguished themselves by acting with a God-centered sense of authority.51 Even the learned and pious Muslims of later ages would end statements with the recognition that “God knows best.”52 For Düzgün, such attitudes are more than lip-­ service; they are powerful, liberating insights. Düzgün is not the only one to stress this aspect of tawḥīd as an essential guarantor of human freedom, including religious freedom. Bekir Topaloğlu affirmed, too, that an individual’s complete and total recognition of God’s unparalleled unity functions as the sole guarantor of human freedom.53 This connection between tawḥīd and human agency seems to bear provenance as far back as the late Ottoman era when Young Ottomans were adapting sociological approaches to the understanding of law and ethical theory. For Düzgün and other Turkish theologians today, as well as for the Young Ottomans a century before them, the “primeval obligation which man [sic] has assumed toward God is also the basis of man’s absolute liberty in this world...”54 For Düzgün, Islam’s most pointed universality lies in its dual affirmations of tawḥīd and human morality—after all, morality is recognized even by secular thinkers as something common to humanity. This universal Islam is “islam” with a lower-case “i”.55 Düzgün explains that “[i]slam means voluntary submission [to God]. This submission is valid for all things whether living or inanimate.”56 In this sense, all of creation is Muslim. Even natural laws, which are divinely ordained, constitute a form of

 Düzgün, Din, Birey ve Toplum, 123.  While I here use the word “relative,” Düzgün does not espouse relativism (Turkish: görecilik). He is a universalist who also recognizes the social embeddedness of human knowledge. On the social character of knowledge, see for instance Düzgün, Allah, Tabiat ve Tarih, 99. 51  Düzgün, Din, Birey ve Toplum, 123. 52  Ibid, 123. The quranic verse he uses to support this is (Yusuf) Q12:76. 53  Bekir Topaloğlu, Preface 2 in İslâm Düşüncesinde Tevhid, 12. 54  Şerif Mardin, The Genesis of Young Ottoman Thought (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 2000), 92. The original year of publication for this work is 1962. 55  Düzgün, Din, Birey ve Toplum, 105. 56  Ibid, 105. Original Turkish: “İslâm, gönüllü teslimiyeti ifade eder. Bu teslimiyet, canlı cansız herkes ve her şey için geçerlidir.” 49 50

184

T. R. Wilkinson

submission.57 It is precisely this submission to God that enables individual human beings to be truly free and creative moral agents.58 Finally, for Düzgün, tawḥīd is a way of putting the pieces back together after recovering from modernity’s unhealthy need for a false unity of human experience.59 In order to resist the perennial human tendencies towards monopoly and homogenization, which loom as harrowing specters in the modern age, believers must reject a single history, a single type of human being, and a single type of modernity.60 Q5:48 is a verse that both affirms the finality of Islam but also reminds believers that God willed human heterogeneity even in matters of faith, and Düzgün reads it as a divine command to honor heterogeny.61 Q5:48 reads: We sent to you the Scripture with the truth, confirming the Scriptures that came before it, and with final authority over them: so judge between them according to what God has sent down. Do not follow their whims, which deviate from the truth that has come to you. We have assigned a law and a path to each of you. If God had so willed, He would have made you one community, but He wanted to test you through that which He has given you, so race to do good: you will all return to God and He will make clear to you the matters you differed about.62

Düzgün reads this verse as a divine injunction to foster tolerance and honor plurality. When Düzgün speaks of plurality in this manner, he is not speaking of a do-­ whatever pluralism that admits of no shared human values. Instead he intends a concrete ethnic and religious plurality that expresses core human values in infinite variation.63 This healthy plurality is not a plurality of goods and commodities for purchase and sale. Rather than market pluralism, he advocates for plurality in human ways of life.64 Even in the sphere of sacred text and textual commentary, plurality of opinion and a healthy diversity in readings keep believers open to the  Ibid, 106.  Düzgün’s position on human freedom and intuition is not without precedents. İrem credits Turkish theologian Baltacıoğlu and his Bergsonian circle in the early mid-twentieth century for developing a “conservative voluntarist philosophy of action,” founded on the idea of the individual as creative, intuitive, and spiritual. Nazim İrem, “Undercurrents of European Modernity and the Foundations of Modern Turkish Conservativism: Bergsonianism in Retrospect,” Middle Eastern Studies 40 (2004): 93. It would be perhaps worthwhile to see whether the Turkish Bergsonian circle made an explicit connection between the creative individual and tawḥīd as Düzgün clearly does. 59  Düzgün, Çağdaş Dünyada Din ve Dindarlar, 188. 60  While the theory of multiple modernities is usually traced back to Shmuel Eisenstadt’s Comparative Civilizations and Multiple Modernities (2000), late Ottoman engagements with European intellectual currents already indicated both a sense of a possible and distinct Ottoman or Turkish modernity, divided opinions on what that modernity might look like, as well as cognizance of the divided expressions of modernity within European intellectual tradition itself. See for instance Nazim Irem, “Undercurrents of European Modernity and the Foundations of Modern Turkish Conservatism,” Middle Eastern Studies 40 (2004): 79–112. 61  Düzgün, Çağdaş Dünyada Din ve Dindarlar, 189. 62  M.A.S. Abdel Haleem translation. 63  Düzgün, Çağdaş Dünyada Din ve Dindarlar, 197. 64  Ibid, 197. Düzgün’s critique of the marketization of an otherwise divinely willed blessing is a similar motion to that of Fatma Barbarosoğlu and her critique of Islamic “fashion” as a contradic57 58

10  Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought

185

transcendent speaking in and through the text. What brings all of this plurality together is Divine Unity. While there may be many religions, there is only one way, and that is the way and struggle of affirming tawḥīd.65 Consciousness of God’s absolute unity is the common truth and common call of all divine faiths. In short, human beings require a healthy tawḥīd to sustain real plurality.66 And plurality is in turn necessary for keeping in check civilizational corruption that would erode human beings’ innate sense of their connection to the One God. Accordingly, various civilizations need to develop an ethic not just of recognizing the other but also of seeing the other as a living source of value and human civilization.67 Düzgün calls specifically on European culture to rediscover its own heterogeny and further advocates for a “dialogue of life.”68 Concrete, stripped of pretensions of dictating universal standards, what Düzgün envisions is more particular and local, as he advocates for the development of discourses in various local cultural codes, especially among non-Western cultures.69 Düzgün stresses that Muslims in particular have the potential to create new forms of religious expression along with their own forms of civilization.70 For a Muslim individual who takes on this responsibility, religion becomes something truly living—not merely a status quo to maintain, a lost ideal to be retrieved, or a fossilized tradition to be handed down. Furthermore, Muslims and non-Muslims alike need to let go of the temptation to see all Muslims as a homogeneous group.71 As part of such efforts, he calls for Muslims in the West to recognize the polar dangers of radicalization and assimilation and to shun the homogenizing force of reductive discourses.72 In addition to addressing Muslims looking for guidance on living out their convictions in the modern world, Düzgün has also spent significant energies engaging Christian theologians on the subjects of religious pluralism, interreligious dialogue, and religion in a globalized world. While a visiting academic at Georgetown University, he interviewed Catholic theologian Roger Haight and asked him the following question: [The p]ostmodern situation in its emphasis on historicity and religious pluralism poses new questions and puts severe pressure on the traditional absolutistic claims. In your understanding is a new theocentrism something necessary, one which refrains from traditional

tion in terms at odds with Islamic values of modesty, humility, and frugality. Barbarosoğlu, though not a theologian, is a sociologist by training and a popular writer in Turkey. 65  Bekir Topaloğlu, Preface 2, 12. 66  Düzgün, Çağdaş Dünyada Din ve Dindarlar, 198. He writes here that where the concept of tawḥīd is compromised, pluralism cannot be fruitful. 67  Düzgün, Çağdaş Dünyada Din ve Dindarlar, 201. 68  Ibid, 289. 69  Düzgün, Çağdaş Dünyada Din ve Dindarlar, 289. Original Turkish: “...hangi kültür ortamında olurlarsa olsunlar Batı dışı toplumların kendi kültür kodlarıyla bir çağdaşlık geliştirmelerinin imkânını kabul etmek gerekecektir.” 70  Ibid, 289. 71  Ibid, 295. 72  Ibid, 295.

186

T. R. Wilkinson

totalizing metanarratives? Is pluralism an indispensable consequence of the necessity to interpret religious texts? How is it possible to decide whether a text admits a pluralism of different interpretations?73

In response to this question, Haight distinguished between a religious metanarrative and a theory of religions, the former being more problematic than the latter. The difference between the two is that religious metanarrative tries to assign a place or role for those of other religions that does not fit their self-understanding. In this way, a religious metanarrative boldly makes claims about the whole of reality. This distinction between theory and metanarrative offers an opportunity for reflection on Turkish discussions of religious pluralism. Arguably, Turkish discussions remain in the space of religious metanarrative—one that is shaped by an underlying embrace of tawḥīd or Divine Unity. Alternatively, perhaps Turkish Muslim understandings of tawḥīd provide a unifying but under-determined theoretical framework with which to make sense of other religions, leaving space open for a certain measure of agnosticism, philosophical curiosity, and even pluralism. After all, Turkish Muslim references to tawḥīd in the context of religious pluralism range from that of a credal starting point to a kind of regulative ideal with moral implications. Whatever the case may be, religious pluralism as a concept runs up against a philosophical limitation; in the process of affirming plurality, some form of philosophical evaluative perspective or metanarrative assumes primacy. That is, once the challenge of religious pluralism is framed in terms of whether it is possible or desirable to speak theoretically across a plurality of religious phenomena, the intellectual necessity of at least some type of unifying discourse becomes apparent.

10.5  Conclusion This chapter has given a brief presentation and analysis of Turkish Muslim discussions on pluralism, as pursued primarily within Turkish theology faculties. As part of this presentation, the work of Şaban Ali Düzgün has provided a more detailed case study on the dynamics of tawḥīd and pluralism. Both in Düzgün’s work and in wider Turkish discussions on pluralism, tawḥīd functions in a dual sense as both a limit and a facilitator to pluralism, allowing for strong affirmations of empirical pluralism as well as limited affirmations of “cherished” pluralism, and in some cases philosophical pluralism; or to use the categorization of Rahim Acar, Turkish discussions of religious pluralism include positions that support limited forms of “normative” pluralism. Importantly, it is the very relationship between the human and the Divine implicated in the concept of tawḥīd that promotes a

 Şaban Ali Düzgün, “Pluralism and Christianity in a Postmodern Age: An Interview with Roger Haight,” Ankara Üniversitesi İlahiyat Fakültesi Dergisi 47 (2006): 46. This part of the article (i.e. the interview) is in English.

73

10  Divine Unity and Human Plurality in Turkish Muslim Thought

187

“double-visioned” understanding of pluralism.74 This double-visioned aspect encompasses both inclusive and exclusive elements as well as a dual orientation of believer to both God and world. In other words, contingent reality, i.e. creation, is plural, even potentially infinitely plural, while the divine is singular, implicating an open-ended plurality of contingent relationships to a singular Divine Reality. Further, a number of Turkish scholars attribute value to the plurality of these contingent relationships to God, viewing this plurality as a divine mercy and a necessary component to human flourishing. At the same time, Turkish scholars differ on how and where to identify positive plurality as a divinely willed component in human flourishing. In sum, in Muslim and non-Muslim contexts alike, articulating and addressing the philosophical and faith implications of “religious pluralism” are works in progress. What is more, they reflect a specific discourse that has taken root only in the past several decades. While Turkish Muslim approaches to religious pluralism predominantly root themselves in an uncompromising affirmation of Divine Unity, this does not mean that a framework of tawḥīd precludes deeper philosophical or theological inquiry into the mechanics of truth-claims, salvation, or all the infinite ways in which finite reality manifests God’s incomparable unity.

References Acar, Rahim. 2013. Çoğulculuk (İsl.). In İslamiyet-Hıristiyanlık Kavramları Sözlüğü, ed. Mualla Selçuk, Halis Albayrak, Peter Antes, Richard Heinzmann, and Martin Thurner, vol. 1, 130–131. Ankara: Ankara Üniversitesi Yayınevi. Aslan, Adnan. 2010. Dinî Çoğulculuk, Ateizm, ve Geleksel Ekol: Eleştirel Bir Yaklaşım. Istanbul: İSAM Yayınları. Aydın, Mahmut. 2005. A Muslim Pluralist: Jalaluddin Rûmi. In The Myth of Religious Superiority: A Multifaith Exploration, ed. Paul F. Knitter, 220–236. New York: Orbis Books. Aydin [sic.], Mahmut. 2001. Religious Pluralism: A Challenge for Muslims—A Theological Evaluation. Journal of Ecumenical Studies 38: 330–352. Barbarosoğlu, Fatma. 2012. Sözüm Söz. İstanbul: Profil Yayıncılık. Carson, Donald Arthur. 1996. The Gagging of God: Christianity Confronts Pluralism. Grand Rapids: Zondervan. Dertli, Gülistan. 2018. Anahtarı Var Açılmaz Sanılan Kapıların. Bedirhaber. December 2. Dorroll, Philip C. 2014. The Turkish Understanding of Religion: Rethinking Tradition and Modernity in Contemporary Turkish Islamic Thought. Journal of the American Academy of Religion 82: 1033–1069. Düzgün, Şaban Ali. 2005; 2012. Allah, Tabiat ve Tarih: Teolijide Yöntem Sorunu ve Teolojinin Metaparadigmatik Temelleri. Ankara: Lotus Yayınevi.

 I borrow the term “double-visioned” from Thomas Reynolds’s treatment of pluralism in “Reconsidering Schleiermacher and the Problem of Religious Diversity: Toward a Dialectical Pluralism,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 73 (2005): 171–2. While Reynolds applies this to a Christian understanding of God-world relation and his reading of Schleiermacher’s view of religion as both inclusive and nevertheless firmly grounded in Christian piety, I hold it may also apply to the present context with some adjustments.

74

188

T. R. Wilkinson

———. 2006. Pluralism and Christianity in a Postmodern Age: An Interview with Roger Haight. Ankara Üniversitesi İlahiyat Fakültesi Dergisi 47: 43–66. ———. 2012; 2014. Çağdaş Dünyada Din ve Dindarlar. Ankara: Lotus Yayınevi. ———. 2013. Din, Birey ve Toplum. Ankara: Akçağ Yayınları. İrem, Nazim. 2004. Undercurrents of European Modernity and the Foundations of Modern Turkish Conservativism. Middle Eastern Studies 40: 79–112. İrem, Nazım. 2011. Bergson and Politics: Ottoman-Turkish Encounters with Innovation. The European Legacy 16: 873–882. Jabré, Farid. 1970. Essai sur le lexique de Ghazali. Beirut: Lebanese University Publications. Körner, Felix. 2005. Rethinking Islam: Revisionist Koran Hermeneutics in Contemporary Turkish University Theology. Würzburg: Ergon Press. Lamptey, Jerusha T. 2014. Never Wholly Other. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Mardin, Şerif. 1962; 2000. The Genesis of Young Ottoman Thought. Princeton/Syracuse: Princeton University Press/Syracuse University Press. Michel, Thomas. 2013. Insights from the Risale-i nur: Said Nursi’s advice for modern believers. Clifton: Tughra Books. Nasr, Seyyed Hossein. 2004. The Heart of Islam: Enduring Values for Humanity. New  York: HarperOne. Obiturary. 2012. Professor John Hick. Telegraph, February 16. Özler, Mevlüt. 2005. Islam Düşüncesinde Tevhid. Istanbul: Rağbet Yayınları. Reynolds, Thomas. 2005. Reconsidering Schleiermacher and the Problem of Religious Diversity: Toward a Dialectical Pluralism. Journal of the American Academy of Religion 73: 151–181. Sargut, Cemalnur. 2018. Beauty and Light: Mystical Discourses of a Contemporary Female Sufi Master. Trans. C. Zulfikar. N.p. Fons Vitae. Şentürk, Recep. 1998. Review of Religious Pluralism in Christian and Islamic Philosophy: The Thought of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr, by Adnan Aslan. İslâm Araştırmaları Dergisi 2: 251–252. Topaloğlu, Bekir. 2005. Second Preface. In Tevhid, ed. İslâm Düşüncesinde, 11–12. Istanbul: Rağbet Yayınları. Wadud, Amina. 1992. Qur’an and Woman: Rereading the Sacred Text from a Woman’s Perspective. Kuala Lumpur: Penerbit Fajar Bakti. Wilkinson, Taraneh R. 2019. Dialectical Encounters: Contemporary Turkish Muslim Thought in Dialogue. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Yaran, Cafer S. 2005. Non-exclusivist Attitudes towards Other Religions. In Change and Essence: Dialectical Relations Between Change and Continuity in the Turkish Intellectual Tradition, ed. Sinasi Gunduz and Cafer S. Yaran, 7–23. Washington, DC: The Council for Research and Values in Philosophy. ———. 2011. Bilgelik Peşinde. Istanbul: Ensar Naşriyat. Yazıcıoğlu, Mustafa Said. 2005. First preface. In Tevhid, ed. İslâm Düşüncesinde, 9–10. Istanbul: Rağbet Yayınları.

Chapter 11

Nurcholish Madjid and Religious Pluralism in Indonesian Islam M. Amin Abdullah

Abstract  This chapter attempts to showcase the legacy of Nurcholish Madjid (1939–2005), an influential Muslim intellectual who championed religious pluralism in Indonesian Islam in the early post-independence era. Madjid argued for a rational and dynamic interpretation of Islam by promoting the use of Western social theory to reform the way traditionalist minds interpret Islam. With this approach, by the late 1980s, Madjid managed to build the basis for moderate views of Muslims, especially of those who come from the middle class background. The chapter first discusses briefly the making of Indonesian Islam that serves to give the historical background of the early role of Muslims from different periods. Then, it introduces how Madjid, also known as Cak Nur, emerges as a prominent figure that enriches the discourse of Indonesian Islam and its relevance today. Finally, it displays the recent challenges to the pluralist view of Islam from the rise of right wing groups and how to tackle them in order to preserve the religious diversity in Indonesia’s democracy. Keywords  Nurcholish Madjid · Cak Nur · Indonesian Islam · Liberal Islam · Pancasila · Bhinneka Tunggal Ika

11.1  Introduction Home to more than 250 million people, Indonesia is the fourth most populous country and the world’s largest Muslim-majority nation. While it hosts the biggest Muslim community, Indonesia is also made up of indigenous people living in their land as well as people from different ethnic and racial backgrounds residing in rural

M. A. Abdullah (*) Sunan Kalijaga State Islamic University, Yogyakarta, Indonesia © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_11

189

190

M. A. Abdullah

areas and urban cities. This vast social and cultural setting is captured in Indonesia’s official motto, Bhinneka Tunggal Ika, or ‘Unity in Diversity.’ Unlike the history of Islam in the Middle East, Islam is not originally from Indonesia. Located in the intersection of Indian Ocean and South China Sea, Islam entered the archipelago through the harbors of East Sumatra under the ruling of Srivijaya, a Buddhist kingdom. Loaded with commercial activities with the Arabs and Southern Indian traders, Islam arrived in ports of Tuban and Gresik, North Java. Despite the great influence from foreign traders from the Muslim world, the Islamization in Java was ascribed to the famous Walisongo, or ‘Nine Saints.’ They are famous for using artistic approach to explain Islam to the locals. For instance, Sunan Kalijaga (1460–1513) used the shadow puppet theater or wayang, Sunan Drajat (1470–1522) composed a melody for the traditional percussion orchestra (gamelan), and Sunan Bonang (1465–1525) is said to have invented the poetic instructional form known as suluk, a term that comes from the Arabic word meaning one’s “wayfaring” in quest of divine knowledge.1 Since the thirteenth century, the international traders from China, India, and Arabia had long influenced the region socially and culturally without attempting to enforce any political power. In the early seventeenth century, the Europeans arrived, and the Dutch started to impose their rule to the locals. The colonial government replaced the archipelago’s many states with a unified empire; it placed strict limits on Muslim participation in public affairs.2 In the late colonial period, the first modern mass organization for native political rights, the Sarikat Islam (Islamic Union), was established in 1911. But, as the organization gained more followers, it was then torn by the ideological dispute between members committed to the conventional Muslim politics and those inclined toward Marxism and secular nationalism.3 This contrasting political axis continues to exist up until today in Indonesia’s social, cultural, and political scene. A major ideological dispute occurred then, and led to the declaration of independence in 1945, which marked the new beginning of Indonesia as a modern nation-­ state. It took a quite rough process for the non-religious nationalists, the Muslims, and the non-Muslims to agree upon the first principle of the philosophical foundation of independent Indonesia named “Pancasila” or the ‘five principles’ and the final Constitutional draft. The Muslims objected to the first principle proposal, “Belief in God” as they felt that it sounded vague and it might recognize the heretical mystics, apostates, ethnic religionists, Communists. They also objected because there was no explicit mention of state support for Islam in that proposed clause. Then, the revised version was extended into “belief in God with the obligation for adherents of Islam to carry out Islamic law”, but this time the non-religious groups disagreed as it might be used to enforce the Islamic law in the future. The 1  Michael Laffan, The Making of Indonesian Islam: Orientalism and the Narration of a Sufi Past (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 2011), 8. 2  Robert W. Hefner, Civil Islam: Muslims and Democratization in Indonesia (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 2000), 15. 3  Ibid, 38.

11  Nurcholish Madjid and Religious Pluralism in Indonesian Islam

191

Muslims insisted to put it in the national principles, known as the “Jakarta Charter.” However, after the Christians, Hindus, and non-religious groups stated their disagreement, the co-declarers of Indonesian independence, Soekarno (also spelt as Sukarno, 1901–1970) and Mohammad Hatta (1902–1980), dropped the Jakarta Charter from the preamble to the Indonesian Constitution on August 18, 1945. To resolve this issue, at the recommendation of Muslim leaders in the two oldest Muslim civil organizations, namely Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama, Soekarno added a clause to the first principle of the Pancasila so that it read not just as “belief in God” but “belief in a singular God” (Ketuhanan yang Maha Esa).4 From the historical point of view, the Muslims have been playing critical roles in the establishment of Indonesia as a modern state. The ideological contestation between the idea of Islamic state and modern nation-state will always stand the test of time. Not only had the early traders influenced the making of Indonesian Islam, the intellectuals have also shaped the social and cultural dynamics along the way. One of the most prominent figures from the first generation of a pesantren (Islamic boarding school) and Western-educated graduates is Nurcholish Madjid, also known as Cak Nur. In this chapter, I would describe his background, how his works matter to the nation-building process, and explain the existing challenge in continuing his legacy to preserve the virtue of pluralism in Indonesia.

11.2  B  roadening the Horizon: Negotiating Islam and Nationalism Born in 1939, Nurcholish Madjid is a child of a farmer and founder of a traditionalist Middle-eastern-inspired education system, madrasa. Madjid spent his time in Gontor pesantren in Ponorogo, East Java, and continued his higher education in IAIN Syarif Hidayatullah in Jakarta. After completing his undergraduate studies, he went to the University of Chicago under the recommendation of Fazlur Rahman, an Islamic neo-modernist thinker. Initially, Nurcholish was invited to participate in an international research seminar programme on Islam and social change. Impressed by young Madjid intellectual capacity, Fazlur Rahman and Leonard Binder asked him to stay. At first, he was about to undertake political science with Binder but then Rahman persuaded him to change the subject to Islamic studies on the basis that the Muslim world needed modern scholars of Islam more than it needed political scientists. In his 1984 doctoral dissertation, he wrote about reason and revelation in Islam, examining the thoughts of Ibn Taymiyya.5

 Hefner, Civil Islam, 40–42.  Greg Barton, “Indonesia’s Nurcholish Madjid and Abdurrahman Wahid as intellectual Ulama: The meeting of Islamic traditionalism and modernism in neo-modernist thought,” Islam and Christian–Muslim Relations, 8:3 (1997), 323–350. 4 5

192

M. A. Abdullah

During his time in the United States, Madjid immersed himself in the history of Islamic civilization heritage, and in the sociology of religion. His religious viewpoints are influenced by the work of Marshall Hodgson and other academics in the field. Madjid developed his thoughts about Indonesian Islam by integrating the social sciences to understand Islamic texts and the dynamics of Islam in society. Madjid did not view Islam merely through the lens of Turath or Islam in the Text. He interpreted Islam by integrating its social and historical context. He called it as al-Hadatsah (modernity) and elaborated his perspectives on Islam and Indonesian Muslim in Islam: Doktrin dan Peradaban (1992). In another book entitled Khazanah Intelektual Islam (1984), he wrote about discourses in Islamic thoughts, such as Ibn Taymiyah’s ideas of kalām and ‘aqīda, al-Ghazālī’s taṣawwuf, Ibn Rushd’s fiqh. Madjid also examined their ideas through the perspectives of a social scientist, such as the historian Marshall Hodgson and the sociologist of religion Robert Bellah. Returning from the US, he joined IAIN Syarif Hidayatullah as a teaching faculty, and became a key figure in supporting Harun Nasution to reform the institution. Greg Barton notes how educational institutions, particularly Islamic state universities, play a critical role in providing space to the present and discuss new conceptual framework: The contribution of the IAIN system to the reform of Islam is of enormous significance. The formation of the IAIN, beginning with IAIN Sunan Kalijaga, in Yogyakarta, in 1951, and IAIN Syarif Hidayatullah, in Ciputat, Jakarta, in 1957, meant that, for the first time, large numbers of pesantren graduates were able to undertake university level studies. It should be pointed out, however, that IAIN in Yogyakarta and Jakarta were not exactly ‘universities’ for ulama along the lines of Cairo’s al-Azhar. Al-Azhar University had indeed been an inspirational model for the architects of the Institut Agama Islam Negeri (State Islamic Institutes) but the IAIN themselves, particularly IAIN Sunan Kalijaga in Yogyakarta and IAIN Syarif Hidayatullah in Jakarta, have developed into institutions that in many ways are much broader than al-Azhar.6

In the 1950s–1970s, many Muslims in Indonesia still interpreted Islamic teachings and thought through exclusive lenses, sectarianism, and archaic values (madhhabiyya, ḥizbiyya, ṭā’ifiyya.) In fact, in the 1950s, Muslim puritans wanted to establish al-khilāfa, al-dawla al-islāmiyya, on the grounds of religious superiority. As a Muslim-majority country, they believed that it is the will of the Muslims to represent the rest of society. Contrary to the revivalists’ vision, Madjid was against the idea of turning Indonesia into an Islamic state. His political stance could be summed up in this popular slogan: “Islam Yes, Partai Islam No”, or “(say) yes to Islam but (say) no to Islam-based party.” Madjid’s stance denouncing the establishment of an Islamic state got him labelled as a ‘secular’ by the Muslims who think that popular sovereignty violates the principles of divine law and universal religious community (umma). However, this judgment is misplaced since Madjid did not advocate secularism, the idea of separation between the state and the religious authority. Madjid did not wish to take Islam out of the public sphere and make it a matter of private piety only. He explained “secularization” as the “de-sacralization” of all concepts  Ibid, 328.

6

11  Nurcholish Madjid and Religious Pluralism in Indonesian Islam

193

and institutions that had been turned into sacred objects by the Muslim community.7 In his speeches and writings, Nurcholish Madjid promoted his thoughts about the idea of Indonesian Islam. He actively encouraged his fellow Muslims to interpret Islam with openness, to practice tolerance (al-hanifa al-samha), acknowledge the plurality (al-ta‘addudiyya), and to embrace inclusivity (al-taḍāmuniyya). He shows that there is intersection between Islam and democracy in terms of the principle of maṣlaḥa. At his time, these approaches were barely introduced in Islamic teachings at Islamic schools (pesantren), Islamic fora and organizations that were highly influenced by ideological currents from the Middle East. To Madjid, the five principle of Pancasila is the best alternative to Islamic theocracy: belief in God, humanitarianism, national unity, democracy as manifested through representatives of the people, and social justice. Pancasila offers a comprehensive foundation to establish a modern state without leaving behind the interest of existing religious groups who also played crucial role in the making of Indonesia. This nation building process results in what Jeremy Menchik called “godly nationalism”: Indonesia contains a form of nationalism that is neither Islamic nor secular, but rather exclusively and assertively religious. Active state support for religion did not die in 1945 with the failure of the Jakarta Charter and the state’s embrace of Pancasila, or in 1952 with the rejection of Islamic law, or in 2002 when the parliament again rejected the incorporation of Islamic law into state law, or with the repeated failures of Islamists in electoral competition despite moderating of their demands. Rather, the privileging of religion is made manifest through state support for religious orthodoxy over liminal and heterodox faiths. I define godly nationalism as an imagined community bound by a common, orthodox theism and mobilized through the state in cooperation with religious organizations in society. Godly nationalists feel that belief in God is a civic virtue that accrues both individual and social benefits. For individuals, belief in God brings an enlightened understanding of the world that is preferable to premodern beliefs such as animism, heterodox beliefs, or secular worldviews. Individuals who believe in God are seen to be wiser, more compassionate, generous, and tolerant. The archetype of a good citizen is one who believes in God and uses that belief to motivate his or her behavior.8

As a leading public intellectual in his generation, Madjid’s most notable contribution is modernizing the traditional views of Islam and advocating democratic values by championing the convergence of distinctive values of religious faith and the shared value of citizenship. His works influence Muslims, who practice their religious beliefs and exclude the different members of the community, to re-think their monolithic approach in navigating Islam in their daily life.

7  Martin van Bruinessen, “What happened to the smiling face of Indonesian Islam? Muslim intellectualism and the conservative turn in post-Suharto Indonesia,” RSIS Working Paper, No. 222 (2011), 1–45. 8  Jeremy Menchik, “Productive Intolerance: Godly Nationalism in Indonesia,” Comparative Studies in Society and History 56:3 (2014), 591.

194

M. A. Abdullah

11.3  P  rotecting Progressive Values in the Face of Islamist Populism Nurcholish Madjid’s ideas on Islam and Indonesia-ness have been disseminated in various occasions. The idea of pluralism and inclusivity (al-hanafiyya al-samha’) in Islam, which previously were not the ‘mainstream’ narrative in the post-colonial Indonesia, are now dispersed through Islamic education networks. There are more than 500 private and state Islamic schools and higher education institutes where Madjid’s viewpoints are circulated through teaching and classroom discussion in Islamic studies courses. In addition, his approach to contextualize Islamic texts into modern life affairs has been adopted in talks and workshops with a variety of themes, such as interfaith dialogue, culture and religion, gender and religion, human rights and religion, science and religion, etc. Throughout Nurcholish Madjid’s intellectual career, he has been notoriously described as the advocate of Liberal Islam. The perspective of Liberal Islam is a tool in studying Islam so that the teachings can be interpreted in progressive values. The most basic element in Liberal Islam is its criticism of traditional and revivalist Islam which is against the tenets of modernity and globalization. Madjid’s ideas on Islam and Indonesia-ness could be summed up in five principles that are associated with Liberal Islam: first, it is against the establishment of theocracy in Indonesia; second, it supports the idea of democracy ​​ as the political system; third, it defends the importance of women rights; fourth, it defends the rights of non-Muslims to have equal treatment as fellow citizen; fifth, it defends civil liberties such as freedom of thought, freedom of expression, freedom of association. These key points can be found in his various publications. For example, Madjid writes in his book Islam, Doktrin dan Peradaban: Sebuah Telaah Kritis tentang Masalah Keimanan, Kemanusiaan, dan Kemodernan [Islam: Doctrine and Civilization – A Critical Study on the Problem of Faith, Humanity and Modernity] (1992) that understanding the plurality of society [pluralism] is crucial for social order in a developed society; for him, accepting pluralism indicates how healthy a democratic society is, and how just it is; pluralism does not imply only a willingness to recognize the rights of other groups to exist, but also a willingness to act fairly towards the others on the basis of peace and mutual respect.9 Madjid’s account of freedom in light of the post-Reformasi [reform] period can be seen in a book titled Indonesia Kita [Our Indonesia] (2004). He argues that the value of freedom needs to be institutionalized and protected at all costs, especially freedom in the press and in academia. These are ‘sacred spaces’ for a democratic society. Despite the sentiment at that time that Indonesian democracy was deemed ‘immature’ - hence ‘excessive’ freedom might be dangerous - Madjid believes that it is not justifiable to think that way and that we should not limit our freedom. As the 9  Nurcholish Madjid, Islam, Doktrin dan Peradaban: Sebuah Telaah Kritis tentang Masalah Keimanan, Kemanusiaan, dan Kemodernan [Islam: Doctrine and Civilization – A Critical Study on the Problem of Faith, Humanity and Modernity] (Jakarta: Yayasan Paramadina, 1992).

11  Nurcholish Madjid and Religious Pluralism in Indonesian Islam

195

backbone of democracy, freedom must be carried out through a series of “trial and error” in our socio-political life. To exercise civil liberties is a continuous experience. More importantly, freedom is a prerequisite for the creation of check-and-­ balance system in political institutions, a system that was previously non-existent in the New Order era. Last but not least, in a book chapter of Indonesia Kita (2004) Madjid also acknowledges the problem of gender gap in education. Madjid writes that the gender gap in education is not a unique case for Indonesia. He noticed that it is quite an ironic situation since Indonesian women contributed greatly in the struggle against colonialism. And yet, the unequal distribution of quality education for women still persists. He encourages women to pursue higher and better education so that the gap can be narrowed down.10 To reach a wider audience and bring greater influence to the public, Madjid and his friends established a socio-educational organization named Paramadina in 1985. Since the early days of its founding, Paramadina has been organizing regular seminars and public lectures. They deliberately focus on Jakarta’s middle class groups to have stronger religious faith, a deeper knowledge of Islam and a progressive outlook on the role of religion in society. The foundation also publishes a number of anthologies of Madjid’s writings compiled from his public lectures to make them more accessible to popular readers. In January 1998, the foundation opened its private university, University of Paramadina, and Madjid became the first rector until he passed away in 2005 due to heart and kidney failures. Despite his influential scholarship in promoting democratic virtues to renew Islamic thought in Indonesia, Nurcholish Madjid is no immune to criticism. It was Ahmad Baso and Nur Khalik Ridwan who engaged critically with his works.11 According to Baso, Madjid’s approach left out the linkage of Islam to politics and power. His legacy on developing Indonesian Islam is limited to cultivate the grand ideas of Islam and modernity narratives, but he did not educate his audience to examine the notion of rationality and develop a qualified use of reason to create a strong civil society. Ridwan pointed out the shortcomings in Madjid’s theses on pluralism. Madjid indeed rejected exclusive truth claims and encouraged Muslims to always keep an open mind toward the possibility of multi-interpretations from different religious faiths. As a devoted promotor of religious pluralism, he actively encouraged the public to subscribe to the virtue of tolerance toward any individual, group, entity or community in society. To Ridwan, however, Madjid’s stance on religious pluralism is problematic in the sense that he failed to extend his analytical approach to examine the lived experience of religious minority groups. Madjid put his interpretation of religious pluralism in a neutral position and failed to question the status quo. Madjid’s popular bit against the establishment of Islamic party politics brought him sympathy from the elites of the regime. As part of the

 Nurcholish Madjid, Indonesia Kita [Our Indonesia] (Jakarta: Yayasan Paramadina, 2004).  Carool Kersten, Islam in Indonesia: The Contest for Society, Ideas and Values (New York: Oxford University Press, 2015), 110–115.

10 11

196

M. A. Abdullah

establishment, his works excluded emancipatory community activism at the grassroots level. There were no calls to action against the state-sponsored religious, ethnic, or political discrimination faced by, respectively, the Ahmadis, the Chinese, and the Communists, for instance. To Baso and Ridwan, Madjid’s mode of thinking resulted in rhetorical pluralism as he did not manage to translate his perspectives into solidarity at the praxis level.12 In the keynote speech at Nurcholis Madjid Memorial Lecture 2013, Sidney Jones,13 counter-terrorism researcher and the director of the Institute for Policy Analysis of Conflict, brought up the alarming number of religious-based violence conducted by vigilante groups such as the Defenders of Islam Front (FPI), GARIS (Gerakan Reformis Islam), that are infamous for vandalism acts targeted at the Ahmadis and members of HKBP Ciketing church. Jones posed a classic question on how, we, as a democratic country, are going to deal with the intolerant groups. She argued that using Pancasila to de-radicalize the groups would not work to solve the problem. That proposal lied behind a false assumption that imposing Pancasila education was a ‘success story’ from the New Order, the period in which Soeharto ruled (1965–1998) Indonesia and is often labelled as an ‘authoritarian developmentalist’ regime which prioritized economic development and used Pancasila as one of its repressive machines. Jones believed that zero-tolerance policy is still the best approach available to overcome the issue. However, it needed a solid commitment and strong leadership from the government and other public institutions to enforce the law. For the last 5 years, the situation has not improved much in terms of the state of religious freedom and the social and political tension caused by the vigilante groups, Sidney Jones’ question on how to deal with the intolerant groups is still relevant. In spite of the grim circumstance, Jones praised the existence and the works of Paramadina foundation as a home for enhancing the virtue of pluralism in religiously-­diverse Indonesia. I also believe that it is equally important to acknowledge Nurcholish Madjid’s legacy in paving the way for creating public civility in Indonesia’s multi-cultural society despite the sharp critique directed to his intellectual approach and political stance. More importantly, now greater collective effort is required to address the rise of right wing populism after the “212 Rally Alumni” demonstrators’ show-of-force, a successful campaign rally against the then-Jakarta governor, a Christian of Chinese descent, Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (Ahok), that resulted in his defeat in 2017 Jakarta gubernatorial race.14 Ahok’s opponent, an archetype of the ‘moderate Muslim’ and the former Rector of Paramadina University,

 Ibid. 237–239.  Sidney Jones, Sisi Gelap Reformasi di Indonesia: Munculnya Kelompok Masyarakat Madani Intoleran, ed. Husni Mubarok, Irsyad Rafsadi (Jakarta: Pusat Studi Agama dan Demokrasi Yayasan Paramadina, 2015). 14  Alexander R. Arifianto, “Quo Vadis Civil Islam? Explaining Rising Islamism in Post-Reformasi Indonesia,” 2018, accessed 02 October 2019, https://kyotoreview.org/issue-24/ rising-islamism-in-post-reformasi-indonesia/ 12 13

11  Nurcholish Madjid and Religious Pluralism in Indonesian Islam

197

Anies Baswedan, gave up his intellectual stance to win political power using demagogue tactics propagated by the Islamists. The governing elite of Indonesia and senior level people of the two-largest Islamic civil society organizations, Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama (NU), take pride in showcasing the compatibility of Islam and democracy to the international community. However, reality has shifted. The 212 show-of-force in late 2016 showed how anti-pluralist messages resonate with unprecedented number of Muslims from diverse backgrounds who hold to conservative views of Islam. According to the survey of Indikator Politik Indonesia, by February 2017, 57 percent of voters believed Ahok was guilty of blasphemy and 58 percent stated that they did not want a non-Muslim to be governor—an increase by 17 percent since the start of the mobilization.15 The proponent of this populist movement is not only from the Islamist groups but also from the conservative members from NU and Muhammadiyah. NU faces the emergence of NU Garis Lurus (The Right Path), a movement aligning with the members of FPI who declare themselves as Ahl al-Sunna wa al-Jamā‘a (“Followers of the Sunnah”) and hail Riziek Shihab (b. 1965) as the true representative. Meanwhile, Muhammadiyah lost their members who support the purification of Islam to the Tarbiyah groups, a Muslim Brotherhood-inspired political movement that believes the core principle of ‘aqīda should not be subordinated to any ideology.16 At the same time, the mainstreaming of the Islamist populist movement has been amplified through the social media and it reaches more ordinary people, including those who may never go to any Islamic boarding school (pesantren) or attend one of their Qur’anic study session (pengajian) but are easily persuaded to believe in the divisive narrative propagated by Islamist groups.

11.4  Concluding Remarks The presence of the Islamist populist movements remains a constant challenge for Indonesian democracy. Despite receiving worldwide acknowledgement for its transition from an authoritarian regime, it has to be admitted that the democratization process does not make the Indonesian Muslims voluntarily submit to the democratic principles, such as religious tolerance. The effort to cultivate and nurture the virtue of pluralism has to be started from reforming the mono-religious model in the national school curriculum. The current model emphasizes theological frameworks in the learning process rather than the sociological aspect of religion; the former  Marcus Mietzner, “Fighting Illiberalism with Illiberalism: Islamist populism and Democratic Deconsolidation in Indonesia,” Pacific Affairs: Volume 91, No. 2 (June 2018) 261–282. 16  Ahmad Syarif Syechbubakr, “Nahdlatul Ulama and Muhammadiyah struggle with internal divisions in the post-Soeharto era,” 28 May 2018, accessed 10 December 2018, https://indonesiaatmelb o u r n e . u n i m e l b . e d u . a u / nahdlatul-ulama-and-muhammadiyah-struggle-with-internal-divisions-in-the-post-soeharto-era/ 15

198

M. A. Abdullah

tends to lead students to come into the conclusion that their religion is superior to the others’. Meanwhile, the latter may focus better on teaching inclusive values, such as how to have and grow the willingness to “put up” with people who have different religious backgrounds. Reforming the religious education system in school is a fundamental step to prevent the younger generation from interpreting religious teachings with exclusivist lenses. On the other hand, the immediate action that needs to be taken by the state actors is to delegitimize the anti-pluralistic brand of political Islam. The elected government has to have the moral courage to drop the discriminative rule issued by Majelis Ulama Indonesia (Indonesian Ulema Council), i.e. the fatwa against the teachings of the Ahmadiyah that has been a major source of legitimation used by the vigilante groups to attack the house and the mosque of Ahmadi community. Since the second term of then-president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, the government has been accommodating the conservative groups’ interests and has not explicitly denounced their activism, which contributes to the rise of communal violence against the religious minority groups.17 In the long term, the government’s half-­stance in protecting religious diversity and religious freedom would further undermine the quality of Indonesia’s democracy. At the same time, Muhammadiyah and NU need to solve the internal division in their organizations and start to consolidate the support for promoting progressive views in Islam. They need to take the lead to spread the value of openness in interpreting Islamic teachings and engaging better with the grassroot communities that have been mobilized by FPI and the likes. All in all, it takes a village to promote the values that make democracy work in the Indonesian Muslim community. The values of liberty, equality, tolerance will always be contested within the two visions of Islam, the ones who believe in Islamic orthodoxy and the ones who provides room for non-literal and contextual interpretation in Islamic teachings. The virtue of pluralism will always be opposed by the groups that aim to Islamize society on behalf of the majority’s will. In order to preserve the idea of Indonesian Islam, Nurcholish Madjid’s intellectual legacy has to be disseminated with better platforms in order to strengthen the existing base of ‘moderate Muslims’ and to teach the younger generation to adopt inclusive approaches in navigating religious values in everyday life.

References Arifianto, Alexander R. 2018. Quo Vadis Civil Islam? Explaining Rising Islamism in Post-­ Reformasi Indonesia. Accessed December 10, 2018. https://kyotoreview.org/issue-­24/ rising-­islamism-­in-­post-­reformasi-­indonesia/

  A’an Suryana, “State Officials’ Entanglement with Vigilante Groups in Violence against Ahmadiyah and Shi’a Communities in Indonesia,” Asian Studies Review, 43:3 (2019), 475–492

17

11  Nurcholish Madjid and Religious Pluralism in Indonesian Islam

199

Barton, Greg. 1997. Indonesia’s Nurcholish Madjid and Abdurrahman Wahid as Intellectual Ulama: The Meeting of Islamic Traditionalism and Modernism in Neo-modernist Thought. Islam and Christian–Muslim Relations 8 (3): 323–350. Hefner, Robert W. 2000. Civil Islam: Muslims and democratization in Indonesia. New Jersey: Princeton University Press. Jones, Sidney. 2015. Sisi Gelap Reformasi di Indonesia: Munculnya Kelompok Masyarakat Madani Intoleran. Husni Mubarok, Irsyad Rafsadi, eds. Jakarta: Pusat Studi Agama dan Demokrasi Yayasan Paramadina. Kersten, Carool. 2015. Islam in Indonesia: The Contest for Society, Ideas and Values. New York: Oxford University Press. Laffan, Michael. 2011. The Making of Indonesian Islam: Orientalism and the Narration of a Sufi Past. New Jersey: Princeton University Press. Madjid, Nurcholish. 1992. Islam, Doktrin dan Peradaban: Sebuah Telaah Kritis tentang Masalah Keimanan, Kemanusiaan, dan Kemodernan. Islam: Doctrine and Civilization  – A Critical Study on the Problem of Faith, Humanity and Modernity]. Jakarta: Yayasan Paramadina. ———. 2004. Indonesia Kita [Our Indonesia]. Jakarta: Yayasan Paramadina. Menchik, Jeremy. 2014. Productive Intolerance: Godly Nationalism in Indonesia. Comparative Studies in Society and History 56 (3): 591–621. Mietzner, Marcus. 2018. Fighting Illiberalism with Illiberalism: Islamist populism and Democratic Deconsolidation in Indonesia. Pacific Affairs 91 (2): 261–282. Suryana, A’an. 2019. State Officials’ Entanglement with Vigilante Groups inViolence against Ahmadiyah and Shi’a Communities in Indonesia. Asian Studies Review 43 (3): 475–492. Syechbubakr, Ahmad Syarif. 2018. Nahdlatul Ulama and Muhammadiyah struggle with internal divisions in the post-Soeharto era. http://indonesiaatmelbourne.unimelb.edu.au/nahdlatul-­ ulama-­a nd-­m uhammadiyah-­s truggle-­w ith-­i nternal-­d ivisions-­i n-­t he-­p ost-­s oeharto-­e ra/. Accessed 10 Dec 2018. Van Bruinessen, Martin. 2011. What Happened to the Smiling Face of Indonesian Islam? Muslim Intellectualism and the Conservative Turn in Post-Suharto Indonesia, RSIS Working Paper No. 222, 1–45.

Chapter 12

Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding Imtiyaz Yusuf

Abstract  Drawing from the teachings of the Qur’an about human unity and religious diversity and also the history of Islam-Buddhism coexistence, this chapter looks at the chances, challenges and opportunities for building Islam-Buddhism understanding in the age of rising Asian Islamophobia and Muslim-Buddhist conflicts in Asia. The chapter draws its content from the teachings of the Qur’an regarding how it views the role of religion in human history and its attitudes towards different religions. It also highlights that the distortion of the Qur’an’s positive views about religions is largely the result of political and economic developments in Muslim history – an interplay between religion and politics in the post-­Muhammadan era. Finally, the chapter urges the Muslims to view other religions such as Buddhism from the perspective of the Qur’an – i.e. Ahl al-Kitāb perspective which recognizes religious pluralism. Keywords  Islam-Buddhism relations · Buddha in Qur’an · Dukkha · Majjhima-­ Patipada · Waṣaṭiyya · al-Bīrūnī · Ahl al-Kitāb

12.1  Introduction O humanity! We have created you male and female, and have made you nations and tribes that you may know one another. The noblest of you, in the sight of Allah, is the best in conduct. Lo! Allah is Knower, Aware. (Qur’an 49:13)

Islam emerged in the cosmopolitan trading city of Mecca in a religiously pluralistic environment where there was the presence of different religions, races and social groups.1 Hence, religious pluralism is not something strange to the Qur’anic  Ziauddin Sardar, Mecca: The Sacred City (New York: Bloomsbury USA, 2014).

1

I. Yusuf (*) International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation (ISTAC-IIUM), Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_12

201

202

I. Yusuf

message when it addresses itself to all humanity. The modern age religious parlance of addressing and classifying religious views about the other or of othering the other religions is defined and found in the historic Vatican II document of Nostra Aetate being the “Declaration On The Relation Of The Church To Non-Christian Religions Proclaimed By His Holiness Pope Paul VI On October 28, 1965”,2 which was given a more detailed exposure in the famous classification of religious views along the lines of exclusivism, inclusivism and pluralism by both Karl Rahner (d. 1984) and also Alan Race (b. 1951).3 Islam defines and classifies religious diversities along two parallel lines of (1) those who are Muslims – those who believe in the Qur’anic monotheism -, and (2) the followers of other religions as Ahl al-Kitāb – the People of the Book – i.e. those who have received revelations before Muhammad which was initially applied to the Jews and Christians of Arabia and was later, with the spread of Islam, extended to include the Hindus, Buddhists, etc. However, the contemporary modern age Muslims have also adopted the religious attitudes of viewing the followers of other religions along the lines of exclusivism, inclusivism and pluralism, mainly due to non-development and eclipse of the initial Muslim theology of religious pluralism. And the rise of exclusivist tendencies largely out of politico-economic conditions instead of the development of modern Muslim theology of religious pluralism fit for the age of globalization. In fact, the essential Qur’anic view of seeing other religions as belonging to the category of Ahl al-Kitāb, which is pluralistic in its view, has been abandoned and some Muslim clerics and religious bodies have gone to the extent of banning the adoption of the term religious pluralism which parallels along with that of Ahl al-Kitāb. The Qur’anic usage of the Ahl al-Kitāb has been substantially abandoned in contemporary Muslim religious language. Religious pluralism means accepting religious validity and equality between religions; it holds that religious truth is not the exclusive property of one religion but is available through the teachings of different religions. Religious pluralism promotes the building of unity, cooperation, dialogue and understanding between different religions, and within a single religion, with the aim of building peaceful coexistence between religions, and the recognition of religious diversity as a boon not a bane for humanity. This chapter draws its content from the teachings of the Qur’an regarding how it views the role of religion in human history and its attitudes towards different religions. The chapter also highlights that the distortion of the Qur’an’s positive views about religions is largely the result of political and economic developments in Muslim history – an interplay between religion and politics in the post-­Muhammadan era. Finally, the chapter urges the Muslims to view other religions such as Buddhism

2  “Nostra Aetate,” accessed February 28, 2019, http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_decl_19651028_nostra-aetate_en.html 3  Alan Race, Christians and Religious Pluralism: Patterns in the Christian Theology of Religions (London: SCM Press, 1983).

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

203

from the perspective of the Qur’an – a perspective which recognizes Ahl al-Kitāb or, in other words, religious pluralism.4

12.2  I slamic Theology of Religions – The Meaning of “Muslim” Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism  – or ‘ilm ilāhiyāt al-adyān  – began in Muhammad’s reception of the Qur’anic revelation and continued to develop as Islam spread out of Arabia. As the youngest religion, Islam faced a religiously pluralistic space from its start. Muslims have discussed this topic – i.e. what is Islam’s views of other religions – throughout Islamic history, since the time of the Prophet Muhammad when he established it practically through instituting the Mīthāq al-Madīna or the charter/constitution of Medina, which defined the interreligious relations in the city. And this is also related to how the Qur’an describes the term “Muslim.” The earliest reference to the word “Muslim” in Qur’an (68: 35) is universal in meaning. The Qur’anic usage of the term Muslim means the one who submits/surrenders [or “has surrendered”] himself/herself to God or Ultimate Reality, and this has been a human religious practice in all times of human history; it does not only refer to the followers of the prophet Muhammad. Muhammad Asad comments on this topic as follows: the term Muslim signifies (means) ‘one who surrenders himself to God’; correspondingly, Islam denotes ‘self-surrender to God.’ Both these terms are applied in the Quran to all who believe in One God and affirm this belief by an unequivocal acceptance of His revealed messages. Since the Quran represents the final and most universal of these divine revelations, the believers are called upon, in the sequence, to follow the guidance of its Apostle and thus to become an example for all mankind.5

Islam always accepts the possibility of salvation outsides its boundaries if they are based on the belief in God/Ultimate Reality and doing good. It affirms the religious truth of Judaism and Christianity as long their followers do not indulge in shirk – associationism. The Qur’an often repeats the verse: “And those who believe and do good are the inhabitants of Paradise; they shall abide therein forever” (Qur’an 2: 111–112). It also mentions that, “Indeed the faithful, the Jews, the Sabaeans, and the Christians—those who have faith in God and the Last Day and act righteously— they will have no fear, nor will they grieve” (Qur’an 5:69). Prophet Muhammad himself laid no restrictions in the interpretation of the above verses. For the dīn or the religion is one but the shari‘a or the paths to it are different. Both the Islamic revelation and Islamic history stand up for a theology of pluralism which is founded

4  Isma’’il R. al-Faruqi, “Meta-Religion: Towards a Critical World Theology,” American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences, Vol. 3, No. 1 (September 1986), 13–57. 5  Muhammad Asad, The Message of the Quran (Gibraltar: Dar al-Andalus, 1980), 518.

204

I. Yusuf

upon the belief in surrender to God combined with being righteous. However, this Qur’anic view of the recognition of other religions was lost when “the universal narrative that emphasized the common destiny of humanity was severed from its universal roots by the restrictive Islamic conception of its political order based on the membership of only those who accepted the divine revelation to Muhammad.”6 Islam recognizes religious diversity as a normal aspect of human life. It calls for the recognition of other religions and also for the freedom of religion for all. It is only when Islam became a political force that such concepts were pushed into the background. Islamic theology of religions seeks to address and resolve issues that affect Muslims across cultural boundaries. Its goal is to do things in ways different from the past. It emphasizes adopting an attitude of friendliness towards all religions. The Qur’an does not condemn other religions nor their adherents; rather, it calls for building of religious humanism for the benefit of peaceful inter-human relations and societies. The Qur’an’s support for religious freedom within the house of Islam and the world at large is conveyed in the following verse. those who have been driven from their homelands without right for no other reason than their saying, “Our Sustainer is God!” For, if God had not enabled people to defend themselves against one another, [all] monasteries and churches and synagogues and mosques – in [all of] which God’s name is abundantly extolled – would surely have been destroyed [ere now]. And God will most certainly succor him who succors His cause: for, verily, God is most powerful, almighty. (Qur’an 22:40)

Revisiting and reviving this teaching of the Qur’anic attitude in contemporary times of religious conflicts would, hopefully, contributive towards starting a discourse and dialogue of religions within the Muslim community by removing the spread of the plague of emerging insularism and negative attitudes towards other religious communities. Tendencies which only hurt the Muslims themselves and creates Islamophobias of different types among non-Muslims.7

12.3  The Qur’an on Religious Diversity Prophet Muhammad followed by his successors and later Muslim scholars have all addressed the question of Islam’s view towards other religions. Islamic attitudes towards other religions also contain the trends of exclusivism, inclusivism and pluralism similar to those found in other religions. More about this latter. Since no religion is founded in a vacuum all of them need to express their attitudes towards other religions through developing a theology/doctrine of religions.

6  Abdulaziz Sachedina, The Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 50. 7  Imtiyaz Yusuf, “Three Faces of the Rohingya Crisis: Religious Nationalism, Asian Islamophobia, and Delegitimizing Citizenship,” Studia Islamika, [S.l.], v. 25, n. 3, 2018, 503–542.

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

205

From the Islamic perspective of history of religions, the religion of the first human beings was dīn al-fiṭra  – religio naturalis.8 The concept of dīn al-fiṭra is rooted in the belief of human beings submission/surrender to Ultimate Reality; it is similar to the first pillar of Islam, which is belief and submission to God. The Qur’an describes it as follows: All mankind were once one single community; [then they began to differ] whereupon God raised up the prophets as heralds of glad tidings and as warners, and through them bestowed revelation from on high, setting forth the truth, so that it might decide between people with regard to all on which they had come to hold divergent views. (Qur’an 2:213)

From this first stance of religious belief emerged the different historical religions found in the different parts of the world, which have been recorded and studied by medieval and modern scholars of history of religions such as Mircea Eliade and his predecessors in the East and West. The historical religions include all views and forms of human worship of Ultimate Reality such as personal, non-personal religion(s), monism, polytheism, monotheism and non-theism, etc. The Qur’an views religious diversity as natural to human life, thought and society. Religious diversity serves as the means for competition to do good between religious communities: Unto every community have We appointed [different] ways of worship, which they ought to observe. Hence, [O believer,] do not let those [who follow ways other than thine] draw thee into disputes on this score, but summon [them all] unto thy Sustainer: for, behold, thou art indeed on the right way. And if they [try to] argue with thee, say [only]: “God knows best what you are doing.” [For, indeed,] God will judge between you [all] on Resurrection Day with regard to all on which you were wont to differ. (Qur’an 22:67–69) Unto every one of you have We appointed a [different] law and way of life. And if God had so willed, He could surely have made you all one single community: but [He willed it otherwise] in order to test you by means of what He has vouchsafed unto you. Vie, then, with one another in doing good works! Unto God you all must return; and then He will make you truly understand all that on which you were wont to differ. (Qur’an 5:48)

In order to further affirm the Islamic view of universality of religious belief and commonly shared religious history of humanity, the Qur’an emphasizes that what matters the most between religious differences is the competition to do good. Muhammad Asad, stresses that the word Muslim meaning submission, as used in the Qur’an, has a universal meaning; it is applied to anyone who believes in God/ Ultimate Reality even though they are not Muslims professing the known religion of Islam. The Qur’anic verse 6:52 reads, “Do not send away those who call upon their Lord in the morning and in the evening, seeking only His grace. You are not by any means accountable for them, nor are they accountable for you. If you turn them away, you yourself will become one of the unjust.” Muhammad Asad comments on 8  The concept of dīn al-fiṭra  – religio naturalis  – is different from the eighteenth century Enlightenment view of religion, and the concept of “natural religion” founded by liberal theologians influenced by Deism. See, Imtiyaz Yusuf, “The Concept of Dīn (Religion) as Interpreted by Ismail al Faruqi” in Imtiyaz Yusuf, ed., Islam and Knowledge: Al-Faruqi’s Concept of Religion in Islamic Thought (London: I. B. Tauris, 2012), 93–110.

206

I. Yusuf

this verse by saying that “the Muslims should not rebuff followers of other religions,” and that “the exhortation voiced in this passage is directed to all followers of the Qur’an: they are enjoined not to repulse anyone who believes in God – even though his beliefs may not fully answer to the demands of the Qur’an.”9 God has created humanity to worship God, “O mankind! Worship your Lord, Who hath created you and those before you, so that ye may ward off (evil).” (Qur’an 2:21). Thus Islam recognizes all believers in religion(s). The Qur’an contains two types of verses: (1) those which have historical and contextual relevance to the situation of Muhammad in Arabia and (2) universal moral teachings of all time relevance. Majority of contemporary Muslims under the influence of fundamentalist and puritanical interpretations of the Qur’an see the historical and contextually relevant teaching of the of the Qur’an as not being relevant under all times and conditions, hence they give importance to such verses of the Qur’an over those with universal moral application. Such an approach to the Qur’an leads to largely exclusivist understanding of Islam. This viewpoint goes against the pluralistic grain of the Qur’an and the principle of religious pluralism it presents. Most Muslim scholars accept democracy in the political sphere of life but opt for religious exclusivism or inclusivism when dealing with other religions. Since the Qur’an comments on Judaism and Christianity, and rarely on other religions, several Muslim Qur’an scholars are inclusivists, but exclusivists towards other religions of humanity, naively labeling the religions of Asia, Africa, Oceania and also that of the Eskimos and Siberians as being false and polytheistic, and thus to be rejected as Muhammad rejected Arab paganism during his time. In spite of the presence of Muslim exclusivists there are several Muslim scholars of Islam who have taken pluralistic positions or commented positively on the need for recognition of pluralism in Islam. Since it is not possible to go into their individual views here, I just mention their names for reference, they are: Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, Yusuf Ali, Muhammad Marmaduke Pickthall, Muhammad Asad, Hassan Askari, Frijthof Schoun, Muhammad Hamidullah, Ismail al-Faruqi, Fazlur Rahman, Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Mahmoud Ayoub, Abdul Aziz Sachedina, Asghar Ali Engineer, Maulana Waheedudin Khan, Chandra Muzaffar, Osman Bakar, Nurcholish Madjid, Khaled Abou El Fadl, Farid Esack, Mohammad Khatami, Abdolkarim Soroush, Abdul Rahman Wahid, and the young scholars of Jaringan Islam Liberal (JIL) group in Indonesia.

12.4  Religious Pluralism in the Qur’an Every religion without exception claims itself to be the true religion, offering the true revelation or the true path of salvation. Such a claim amounts to what Paul Knitter calls the “myth of religious superiority.”10 It is difficult for exclusivists and  Muhammad Asad, The Message of the Quran, 179, n. 41.  Paul F. Knitter, The Myth of Religious Superiority (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2004).

9

10

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

207

inclusivists to accept religious pluralism that recognizes all religions as true paths of salvations and equal in terms of interreligious relations. Yet, when observed deeply, each religion’s claim of superiority is historical, spatial and contextual. Contemporary study and research in the history of religions demands a shift from the above mentioned types of perspectives to a one that recognizes equality of religions. This is not an easy task but a struggle for the adherents of different religions. There are many Muslims who hold exclusivist or inclusivists perspectives about Islam in its relations to other religions be they Middle Eastern, Asian, African, etc. Yet, a deep, reflective, historically researched and holistic understanding of the message of the Qur’an points to Islam’s recognition of religious pluralism. Some of the verses of the Qur’an are a source for building an Islamically pluralistic theology of religions. Such a theology draws a distinction between the teachings of the Qur’an, the practice of the prophet Muhammad, and the later developed exclusivist/inclusivist Islamic theology of religions when Islam took on the forms of a religious, missionary and legalistic institution whose power was managed by the political authorities and knowledge came to be narrowly interpreted by the ulama – religious scholars, who claimed sole authority in the task of interpreting Islam. Historically researched and phenomenological reading of the Qur’an and the hadith – the narratives of Muhammad – point to religious recognition of religious pluralism within Islam. In light of the fact that the Qur’an employs the term Muslim to mean a believer in Transcendent or Ultimate Reality, as mentioned above, and does not refer to an ethnic Muslim community, the Qur’an holds the following principles of religious pluralism.

12.4.1  E  veryone Who Believes in Ultimate Reality and Does Good Is Guaranteed Salvation This is mentioned in the following two verses of the Qur’an. Verily, those who have attained to faith [in this divine writ], as well as those who follow the Jewish faith, and the Christians, and the Sabians – all who believe in God and the Last Day and do righteous deeds – shall have their reward with their Sustainer; and no fear need they have, and neither shall they grieve. (Qur’an 2:62) For, verily, those who have attained to faith [in this divine writ], as well as those who follow the Jewish faith, and the Sabians, and the Christians – all who believe in God and the Last Day and do righteous deeds  – no fear need they have, and neither shall they grieve. (Qur’an 5:69)

The above mentioned twice occurring verse in the Qur’an sets down a fundamental principle teaching of Islam that salvation/liberation/enlightenment is conditional upon three beliefs: belief in God/Ultimate Reality, belief in the Day of Judgment, and the performance of good deeds and righteous action in life.

208

I. Yusuf

12.4.2  A  llah and Other Definitions of Ultimate Reality Are Identical This Qur’anic verse shows that God, or Allah, and Ultimate Reality or the Transcendent are identical: “We believe in that which has been bestowed from on high upon us, as well as that which has been bestowed upon you: or our God and your God is one and the same, and it is unto Him that We [all] surrender ourselves.” (Qur’an 29:46)

12.4.3  D  iversity of Religions Is a Part of God’s Plan and Will Last as Long as the World Lasts Unto every one of you have We appointed a [different] law and way of life. And if God had so willed, He could surely have made you all one single community: but [He willed it otherwise] in order to test you by means of what He has vouchsafed unto you. Vie, then, with one another in doing good works! Unto God you all must return; and then He will make you truly understand all that on which you were wont to differ. (Qur’an 5:48)

Muhammad Asad comments on the above verse as follows, “Thus, the Qur’an impresses upon all who believe in God – Muslims and non-Muslims alike – that the differences in their religious practices should make them “vie with one another in doing good works” rather than lose themselves in mutual hostility.”11

12.4.4  M  uslims Must Be Tolerant and Respectful Towards Other Religions In keeping with the spirit of religious pluralism, the Qur’an categorically declares, “There is no compulsion in religion” (Qur’an 2:256) This means nobody is to be forced to believe or convert to Islam and everyone is free to leave Islam. Everyone is free to believe or disbelieve in Islam, “Then whosoever will, let him believe, and whosoever will, let him disbelieve” (Qur’an 18:29). Prophet Muhammad did not only talk about no compulsion in religion but also practiced it as seen from below mentioned events. Many commentators cite some events in which the Prophet himself implemented the requirements of verse 2:256 and prohibited his companions from compelling people to accept Islam. For instance, Tabari mentions that when the two Jewish tribes of Qaynuqa and Nadr were expelled from Medina, they had in their charge children of the Ansar (Medinian Muslims) who had been placed with Jewish families. The biological parents asked the Prophet’s permission to take their children back and raise them as Muslims, but the Prophet said, ‘There is no compulsion in religion.’ Tabari mentions another event which indicates how this verse worked in practice. A Muslim named Al-Hussayn had two sons, who having

11

 Muhammad Asad, The Message of the Quran, 154, n. 68.

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

209

been influenced by Christian merchants, converted to Christianity and left Medina to go to Syria with these missionary merchants. Al-Hussayn pleaded with the Prophet to pursue the convoy and bring his sons back to Islam. But the Prophet once again said, ‘There is no compulsion in religion’, that is let them follow the religion of their choice, even though it is not Islam.12

Furthermore, Muslims and everyone is free to choose and practice their religions, “To you your religion and for me mine” (Qur’an 109:6). Diversity of language, race, ethnicity, color are to be honored and respected for the purpose behind it is to build human cooperation and respect for pluralism, which is a natural phenomenon. The Qur’an remarks: O human beings! Behold, We have created you all out of a male and a female, and have made you into nations and tribes, so that you might come to know one another. Verily, the noblest of you in the sight of God is the one who is most deeply conscious of Him. Behold, God is all-knowing, all-aware. (Qur’an 49:13)

Muslims are recommended to be cordial toward non-Muslims. Muslims should not be judgmental nor condemnatory of non-Muslims; read Qur’an (6:52) and (42:15) cited earlier.

12.4.5  I slam Is Not a New Religion But a Re-Confirmation of Truth Revealed Before Muslims believe in all prophets without making any distinction between them. Islam’s attitude of religious pluralism is reflected in the Qur’an being a reconfirmation of the message brought by previous prophets: And unto thee have We revealed the Scripture with the truth, confirming whatever Scripture was before it, and a watcher over it … For each We have appointed a divine law and a traced out way. Had Allah willed He could have made you one community. But that He may try you by that which He hath given you (He hath made you as ye are). So vie one with another in good works. Unto Allah ye will all return, and He will then inform you of that wherein ye differ. The apostle, and the believers with him, believe in what has been bestowed upon him from on high by his Sustainer: they all believe in God, and His angels, and His revelations, and His apostles, making no distinction between any of His apostles; and they say: We have heard, and we pay heed. Grant us Thy forgiveness, O our Sustainer, for with Thee is all journeys’ end! (Qur’an 2:285)

And it is the fundamental belief of the Muslims that though Muhammad is the last of a series of prophets, Muslims believe in all prophets without making any distinction between them:

12  Quoted in Adnan Aslan, Religious Pluralism in Christian and Islamic Philosophy: The Thought of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr (London: Routledge, 1994), 191.

210

I. Yusuf

Say: “We believe in God, and in that which has been bestowed from on high upon us, and that which has been bestowed upon Abraham and Ishmael and Isaac and Jacob and their descendants, and that which has been vouchsafed by their Sustainer unto Moses and Jesus and all the [other] prophets: we make no distinction between any of them. And unto Him do we surrender ourselves.” (Qur’an 3:84) Behold, We have inspired thee [O Prophet] just as We inspired Noah and all the prophets after him – as We inspired Abraham, and Ishmael, and Isaac, and Jacob, and their descendants, including Jesus and Job, and Jonah, and Aaron, and Solomon; and as We vouchsafed unto David a book of divine wisdom. (Qur’an 4:163)

Above Qur’anic references and comments illustrate that contemporary Muslims in their efforts to brand the followers of other religions as kafirs – unbelievers, infidels -have very much deviated from the tolerant and pluralistic spirit of their own scripture. More about this below.

12.5  Buddhism and Islam – A Historical Sketch of Relations Muslims and Buddhist met each other as early as the seventh–eighth centuries, much before Western Christians came to know about Buddhism, which happened only in the nineteenth century through the works of Orientalist scholars such as Monier Monier-Williams (1819–1899), and Alexander Duff (1806–1978).13 The first comprehensive academic study of Buddhism from Western Christian perspective was written only in 1844 by the French scholar of Sanskrit Eugène Burnouf, entitled Introduction à l’histoire du Buddhisme indien. It set the ground for the beginning of Western studies about Buddhism, while Muslims abandoned the study of Buddhism until today. Christian-Buddhist understanding and dialogue is a vibrant movement today.14 There is a long history of relations between Islam and Buddhism.15 Though Islam and Buddhism are different doctrinally, they have historically come into contact first in Central Asia,16 later also in South Asia and Southeast Asia.17 The first encounter between Islam and ashab al-Bidada, or the Buddhist community, took place in the

13  Tomoko Masuzawa, The Invention of World Religions: Or, How European Universalism Was Preserved in the Language of Pluralism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005), 127. 14  Eugène Burnouf, Introduction to the History of Indian Buddhism, trans. Katia Buffetrille and Donald S.  Lopez Jr. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015); Donald S.  Lopez Jr., From Stone to Flesh: A Short History of the Buddha, rpt. ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013). 15  Johan Elverskog, Buddhism and Islam on the Silk Road (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010). 16  Richard C. Foltz, Religions of the Silk Road (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1999). 17  Manan Ahmed Asif, A Book of Conquest: The Chachnama and Muslim Origins in South Asia (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2016); Syed Muhammad Naguib al-Attas, Some Aspects of Sufism as Understood and Practised among the Malays (Singapore: Malaysian Sociological Research Institute Ltd., 1963).

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

211

middle of the seventh century in the regions of East Persia, Transoxiana, Afghanistan and Sindh.18 Historical evidences suggest that early Muslims extended the Qur’anic category of ahl al-Kitāb (People of the Book or Revealed Religion) to include the Hindus and the Buddhists.19 During the second century of Islam or the eighth century CE, Central Asian Muslims translated many Buddhist works into Arabic. We come across Arabic titles such as Bilawar wa Budhasaf and Kitab al-Budd, as evidences of Muslims learning about Buddhism.20 In spite of being aware of the idol-worship of the Buddha, Ibn al-Nadim (d. 995 CE), the author of al-Fihrist, comments that: These people (Buddhists of Khurasan) are the most generous of all the inhabitants of the earth and of all the religionists. This is because their prophet Budhasaf (Bodhisattva) has taught them that the greatest sin, which should never be thought of or committed, is the utterance of “No”. Hence they act upon this advice; they regard the uttering of “No” as an act of Satan. And it is their very religion to banish Satan.21

There are evidences of Buddhist survivals in the succeeding Muslim era of this region (Central Asia), such as the Barmak family of Buddhist monks who played a powerful administrative role in the early Abbasid dynasty (750–1258  CE). The Barmakids controlled the Buddhist monastery of Naw Bahar near Balkh in addition to other Iranian monasteries.22 There was also the continuation of several Buddhist beliefs and practices among the Muslims of Central Asia. For example, the Samanid dynasty, which ruled Persia during the ninth and tenth centuries, invented and modelled the madrasa or Muslim religious schools that were devoted to advanced studies in the Islamic religious sciences, after the Buddhist schools in eastern Iran.23 Similar case may be the pondoks or pasenterens — the Muslim religious schools of Southeast Asia. The renowned religious scholar and historian, Abu Ja‘far Muhammad ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī (839–923 CE), who was born in Amul in Tabaristan, northern Persia, mentions that Buddhist idols were brought from Kabul, Afghanistan, to Baghdad in the ninth century. It is also reported that Buddhist idols were sold in a Buddhist temple next to the Makh mosque in the market of the city of Bukhara in present Uzbekistan.24

 Encyclopedia of Islam, s.v. “Balkh”; Encyclopaedia Iranica, s.v. “Buddhism.”  The term Ahl al-Kitab, or “the People of the Book”, is a Qur’anic term and Prophet Muhammad’s reference to the followers of Christianity and Judaism as religions that possess divine books of revelation (Torah, Psalter, Gospel) which gives them a privileged position above followers of other religions in Arabia. See Encyclopedia of Islam, s.v. “Ahl al-Kitab”. 20  Ignaz Goldziher, Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981), 141. 21  Quoted in S.M. Yusuf, “The Early Contacts Between Islam and Buddhism”, University of Ceylon Review, Vol. 13, 1955, 28. 22  Richard C. Foltz, Religions of the Silk Road, 100. Also Richard Bulliet, “Naw Bahar and the Survival of Iranian Buddhism”, Iran, Vol. 14, 1976, 140–145. 23  Richard C. Foltz, Religions of the Silk Road, op. cit., 100–1. See also Encyclopedia of Religion (Mircea Eliade, General Editor), s.v. “Madrasah.” 24  Richard C. Foltz, Religions of the Silk Road, op. cit., 100. 18 19

212

I. Yusuf

The second encounter between Islam and Buddhism took place in South and Southeast Asia beginning around twelfth–sixteenth centuries. In the case of India, there is a common misunderstanding that Islam wiped out Buddhism through conversion and persecution. Regarding this misunderstanding, the American scholar of Islamic history Marshall Hodgson remarks: Probably Buddhism did not yield to Islam so much by direct conversion as by a more insidious route: the sources of recruitment to the relatively unaristocratic Buddhism  – for instance, villagers coming to the cities and adopting a new allegiance to accord to their new status – turned now rather to Islam than to an outdated Buddhism. The record of the massacre of one monastery in Bengal, combined with the inherited Christian conception of Muslims as the devotees of the sword has yielded the widely repeated statement that the Muslims violently ‘destroyed’ Buddhism in India. Muslims were not friendly to it, but there is no evidence that they simply killed off all the Buddhists, or even all the monks. It will take much active revision before such assessments of the role of Islam, based largely on unexamined preconceptions, are eliminated even from educated mentalities.25

The third meeting between Islam and Hindu-Buddhist civilization in Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand was a sort of dialogue between the monotheistic, monistic and non-theistic religious traditions. Islam arrived here in its mystic orientation which was shaped by the Persian and Indian traditions of Sufism. The Muslim individuals who brought Islam first to Indonesia and then Malaysia and southern Thailand in the twelfth–fifteenth centuries were the Sufi mystics. In religious terms, it was a meeting between the Hindu views of Moksha – liberation – through the notion of monism, the Buddhist notion of Nirvana – enlightenment – through the realization of Sunyata  – emptiness  – and the Islamic concept of fanā’  – passing away of one’s identity through its mergence in Universal being – as presented in monotheistic pantheism of the Sufis. Gradually, there emerged a hybrid culture, particularly in Java and in other parts of Southeast Asia, resulting in an Islam that was mystical, fluid and soft, and a spiritualism that is peculiar to the region.26 Today, Islam coexists with Hinduism and Buddhism in South and Southeast Asia, the state of this relationship is diverse in the context of the regional and local histories of the various countries in these region. There are ample opportunities to build on Islam and Buddhism understanding as they make up the two main religions of Southeast Asia at the ratio of 42–40% per cents respectively.

 Marshall Hodgson, The Venture of Islam Volume 2 (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1074), 557. 26  Alijah Gordon, The Propagation of Islam in the Indonesian-Malay Archipelago (Kuala Lumpur: Malaysian Sociological Research Institute, 2001). Anthony Shih, “The Roots and Societal Impact of Islam in Southeast Asia” Stanford Journal of East Asian Affairs Spring 2002, Vol 2, 114. 25

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

213

12.5.1  Buddhism as Non-theistic Religion Humanity has experienced the Ultimate Reality in three ways, i.e., from outside (namely, through revelation) as in the cases of Abraham, Moses, Jesus, Muhammad and other Semitic prophets, from within as in the case of the Asian religions of Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism, Taoism and Shinto, and through a medium as in the case of Shamanistic and African religions. In this sense, the Buddha encountered the Ultimate Reality from within; it resulted in Nirvana  – enlightenment which equals Sunyata  – nothingness. The Buddhist concept of Sunyata is closer to the Abrahamic religious notion of transcendental monotheism. Usually, monotheists, i.e., the Jews, the Christians and the Muslims, are too quick in commenting that Asian religions of Hinduism, Jainism, Taoism and Shinto are polytheistic religions. The reasons for this lies in the Middle Eastern and European view of monotheism that judges worship of many deities, and considers bowing before an idol or icons as constituting polytheism. The root cause of this lies in being unable to distinguish between personal and non-personal views of Ultimate Reality.27 Monotheistic religions view God in personal terms, while Non-Theistic religions view Ultimate reality in two ways: (1) worship of many devas – gods – at a popular level and (2) philosophical and non-personal conception of Ultimate Reality. Max Müller defined it as henotheism, that is, worshiping a single non-­ personal universal principle called Brahman, which is monistic in nature in relation to the human soul – the Atman -, and also accepting the existence of other deities.28 With the risk of being accused of generalizing, I see philosophical compatibility between theistic and non-theistic views of Ultimate Reality as defined in the Jewish concept of Elohim/Yahweh, Christian concept of Godhead, Islamic notion of Allah and the Buddhist view that the Ultimate Reality constitutes of Sunyata – emptiness.

12.5.2  Buddha and Muhammad – The Prophetic Dimension From a Muslim perspective of history of religions, God has since time immemorial sent prophets to every nation, only some of which are mentioned by names in the Qur’an. The Qur’an mentions 25 prophets including Muhammad, all of them belong to Semitic religion. It was impossible for the Qur’an to mention all the world prophets; for if it did that, it would not be able to convey its message to the Arabs who were its main addressee, and who at that time did not know much about other religions especially those in Asia and Africa. Furthermore, the Qur’an is a book of revelation and not a dictionary of religions.  John Hick, God Has Many Names (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1982).  Max Muller, Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Religion: As Illustrated by the Religions of India. (London: Longmans, Green and Co, 1878).

27 28

214

I. Yusuf

The Qur’an comments on the universality of the institution of prophethood in the following way: And indeed, [O Muhammad], We have sent forth apostles before your time; some of them We have mentioned to thee, and some of them We have not mentioned to thee. (Qur’an 40: 78. See also Qur’an 4: 164) And never have We sent forth any apostle otherwise than [with a message] in own people’s tongue … (Qur’an 14:4)

Hence, Islam’s position toward other religions is that of religious pluralism, recognizing the existence of different religions including Buddhism, as another verse quoted earlier clearly shows (Qur’an 5:48). The religious experience of Nirvana – enlightenment – by Buddha, and waḥy – revelation – by Muhammad are sources of the essential message of moderation in religion. The perfection of Buddha and Muhammad is connected to their achievements as enlightened prophets who overcame the impediments of religious ignorance. In the case of Buddha, this ignorance is rooted in the cycle of samsara – rebirth due to attachment as the cause of dukkha – suffering. In the case of Muhammad, it lies in the illusions of kufr – human rebelliousness or human rejection/denial of the existence of God – and shirk – polytheism or attribution of divine qualities to aught but God – as the cause of khusr, or loss and disgrace.29 Interestingly, both Buddha and Muhammad from an Islamic point of view were neither mushriks, namely polytheists, nor kafirs, namely those who associate other beings with God; they both rejected the petty gods of their respective communities. Classical Muslim scholar of comparative religion, al-Shahrastani (1086–1153 CE), in the section on Ara’ al-hind (The Views of the Indians) of his magnum opus Kitab al-Milal wan-Nihal (The Book of Religious and Philosophical Sects),30 pays high regard to Buddhism and its richness in spirituality. This was done by identifying Buddha with the Qur’anic figure of al-Khidr, as a seeker of enlightenment.31 More recently, the late scholar Muhammad Hamidullah observes that in line with the Qur’anic view of prophethood, Buddha can be regarded as one among the previous prophets not clearly mentioned in the Qur’an. According to Hamidullah, the symbolic mention of the fig tree in Chapter 95, Verse 1 of the Qur’an alludes to the prophethood of the Buddha. He concludes that since Buddha attained Nirvana— enlightenment – under a wild fig (ficus religiosa) tree, and as that fig tree does not figure prominently in the life of any of the prophets mentioned in the Qur’an, hence, the Qur’anic verse refers to Gautama Buddha32:  Qur’an 103: 1–3.  Muhammad Al-Shahrastani, The Book of Religious and Philosophical Sects, ed. William Cureton (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press LLC, 2002). 31  Qur’an 18: 64. See also Bruce B. Lawrence, Shahrastani on the Indian Religions (The Hague: Mouton, 1976), 113–14. 32  Muhammad Hamidullah, Muhammad Rasulullah, (Hyderabad: Habib & Co), 1974, pp. 27, 107. See also David Scott, “Buddhism and Islam: Past to Present Encounters and Interfaith Lessons”, NUMEN, Vol. 42, 1995, 141–55. 29 30

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

215

By the fig and the olive, By Mount Sinai, And by this land made safe; Surely We created man of the best stature Then We reduced him to the lowest of the low, Save those who believe and do good works, and theirs is a reward unfailing. So who henceforth will give the lie to thee about the judgment? Is not Allah the most conclusive of all judges? (Qur’an 95: 1–8)

What further facilitates this Islamic interpretation is the status of Buddha. There is a lot of parallel between the Qur’anic concept of risalah/nubuwwa, or messengership/ prophethood history of prophets (named and unnamed), and the Buddhist concept of “Buddha.” Buddha is not a name, it is a designation like nabi or rasul – prophet. Buddhas appear over time to teach religion and the path to Nirvana – enlightenment/salvation. Buddhist sources mention 27 Buddhas that have appeared over a period of 5000 years.33 Buddha’s enlightenment experience of Nirvana and Muhammad’s experience of waḥy/ revelation were liberative experiences freeing both founders of religions from the shackles of ignorance and social bondages. Both these prophets sought answers to the questions about human predicament. What is to be human? Why is there anguish, suffering and injustice? The Buddha called it dukkha/ suffering, the Qur’an calls it kabad/ affliction. The parallel between the teachings of Buddha and Muhammad can be seen in the Buddhist doctrine of the Four Noble Truths and the Qur’anic surah – chapter titled Balad/ City (Qur’an 90), respectively: 1. Life means dukkha – suffering. 2. The origin of suffering is attachment. 3. The cessation of suffering is attainable. 4. The (eight fold) path to the cessation of suffering. (The Four Noble Truths) NAY! I call to witness this land – this land in which thou art free to dwell – and [I call to witness] parent and offspring: Verily, We have created man into [a life of] kabad – pain, toil and trial. (Qur’an 90: 1–4)

I see analogical compatibility between the Qur’anic usage of the word kabad meaning “pain,” “distress,” “hardship,” “toil” and “trial” and the Buddhist religious term dukkha, “suffering,” and find it useful in explaining the Islamic concept of the meaning of life, its struggles and goal. Through Nirvana, enlightenment, Buddha was liberated from the fetters of suffering (dukkha) and entered a state of relief, peace, calmness and rest. He was freed from the state of confusion, turmoil, anguish and distress and entered the state of bliss and detachment. Similarly, Muhammad’s experience of the waḥy, revelation, liberated him from the suffering caused by religious ignorance in his social milieu represented by the presence of shirk (polytheism, attribution of divine qualities to

33  Paul J. Griffiths, On Being Buddha – The Classical Doctrine of Buddhahood (Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1994), 87–119. See also Jamshed Fozdar, The God of Buddha (New York: Asia Publishing House, Inc., 1973), 13.

216

I. Yusuf

aught but God) and kufr (rejection/denial of the existence of One Unseen God), and led him into submission to God. Thus the Buddha through Nirvana entered the state of bliss, marking his freedom from suffering and rebirth, and Muhammad through the experience of waḥy entered the state of salaam – peace, tranquility. Both became founders of two world religions which carry the message of human freedom and liberation. Buddha realized the state of being arahant, the state of enlightened human being, and Muhammad the state of being rasul – the messenger of God. Both are prophets from the perspective of Islamic history of religions, and each of them defeated the antagonistic forces or evil called Mara in Buddhism and Shaytan in Islam. This is described in the Buddhist narrative of the Buddha’s struggle with the forces of Mara during the process of his enlightenment as contained in the Buddhist text of Sutta Nipata (425–449).34 Similarly, in Islam, a hadith tradition of the prophet Muhammad remarks, “aslama shaytāni”  – my shaytān has become a Muslim/ believer, meaning that the prophet has trained and turned his lower faculties and instincts of lust, greed, false views, delusion and illusion into the service and obedience of God. The prophet has become al-insān al-kāmil – the perfect man to which the shaytān prostrates or bows his will.35 Hence, through Nirvana the Buddha realized his Buddha-dhatu – Buddha nature or the true pure nature of non-attachment and emptiness of everything or being; the original nature present in all beings which when realized leads to enlightenment, and the prophet Muhammad the state of al-insān al-kāmil  – the perfect human being. Both these prophets realized their enlightened human status in both religious and social terms in their respective societies.36 The Buddha obtained Nirvana from within himself on the basis of self-effort while seeking an answer to the question of dukkha/ human suffering and salvation, and Muhammad obtained waḥy/ revelation from outside himself while seeking to discern the meaning of being insan/ human, in terms of creation, the meaning of life and its end goal.

 Encyclopedia of Buddhism, s. v. “Mara.”  Annemarie Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam, 2 ed. (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2011), 113, 196. 36  Uma Chakravarti, Social Dimensions of Early Buddhism (New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publisher, 2008); Bhikkhu Bodhi and His Holiness the Dalai Lama, The Buddha’s Teachings on Social and Communal Harmony: An Anthology of Discourses from the Pali Canon (Somerville, MA: Wisdom Publications, 2016); Tariq Ramadan, In the Footsteps of the Prophet: Lessons from the Life of Muhammad (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009); Montgomery Watt, Muhammad: Prophet and Statesman, Rev. ed. (London, New York: Oxford University Press, 1974). 34 35

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

217

12.6  Conclusion This chapter has shown that both monotheistic and non-theistic religions propose moderation in religion. Their essential messages to humanity is to avoid extremism of all sorts in order to build mature human beings and peaceful societies; this is the ideal. But the history of religions shows that religious extremism has emerged in all religions, that while all religions present themselves as sources of building peace in humanity, no religion’s history is free from the stain of violence. Hence, reviving the message of the middle path of Buddha or the middle nation of the Qur’an is an urgent task, especially today when extremism of religious nationalists and fundamentalists are hijacking religions for violence. Violence and killing has no religion. Islam is a religion of wassatiyah, of middle position between religious conservatism and extremism37: “And thus have We willed you to be a community of the middle way, so that [with your lives] you might bear witness to the truth before all mankind, and that the Apostle might bear witness to it before you” (Qur’an 2:143). Gai Eaton says, The Qur’anic concept of “a middle nation” tells the Muslims to be worthy of being “heir to ancient and universal truths, and to principles of social and human stability (often betrayed but never forgotten) of which our chaotic world has a desperate need;[sic] a nation which witnesses to a hope that transcends the dead ends against which the contemporary world is battering itself to death.38

Buddhism’s notion of Majjhima-Patipada (middle way) and Islam’s notion of Ummatan Wassatan (middle nation) both emphasize moderation and offer strong foundations of further cooperation between the two religious communities. The goal of building peaceful relations between the Muslims and Buddhists of Southeast Asia is an urgent need of the contemporary global age, otherwise immoderate views will only create animosity, havoc and conflict. Islamic theology of religious pluralism based in the Qur’an which is basically inclusive of other religious traditions is a great resource for building understanding between Islam and Buddhism. The long history of mutual coexistence between the two religions has many positive aspects, one such example is that since the 1960’s the king of Thailand annually solemnizes the opening day of the celebration of Mawlid al-Nabi – (Prophet Muhammad’s birthday) in Thailand.39 Information and knowledge about such examples will help bridge the current gap of mutual ignorance and misunderstanding separating the followers of the two religions currently  Imtiyaz Yusuf, “Dialogue Between Islam and Buddhism through the Concepts Ummatan Wasaṭan (The Middle Nation) and Majjhima-Patipada (The Middle Way),” Islamic Studies, vol. 48, no. 3, 2009, 367–394. 38  Charles Le Gai Eaton, Islam and The Destiny of Man (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1985), 26. 39  Imtiyaz Yusuf, “Celebrating Muhammad’s Birthday in Buddha’s Land: Managing Religious Relations through Religious Festival,” in Religion, Public Policy and Social Transformation in Southeast Asia — Religion, Identity and Gender, ed. Dicky Sofjan, Vol. 2 (Geneva: Globethics.net International Secretariat, 2017), 129–160. 37

218

I. Yusuf

caught in the Buddhist and Muslim religious nationalist conflicts that brew violence and terror, a phenomena that is being currently witnessed in the Theravada majority countries of Sri Lanka, Myanmar and Thailand against Muslim minorities, and also in the Muslim majority countries of Indonesia, Malaysia and Brunei where the Buddhist minorities are feeling vulnerable to the religio-nationalist threats of discrimination and intolerance.40 Building Islam-Buddhism understanding through deeper understanding of the parallels and differences between them can help in creating peaceful understanding and cordial relations between the two main religions of Southeast Asia. Muslims and Buddhists in Asia should abandon the exclusivist and narrow interpretation of the universal message of the Qur’an and Buddhism. They should opt for a religiously pluralistic understanding of the message of their religions, focus on building civil society and democratic institutions. Such a step has to be initiated both from the states representative houses and from the streets. The contemporary age demands of the Muslims to rethink their views and attitude towards other religions. The way of the future is that of religious pluralism, “Verily, God does not change the condition of a people unless they change it themselves (with their own souls)” (Qur’an 13:11).

References Aslan, Adnan. 1994. Religious Pluralism in Christian and Islamic Philosophy: The Thought of John Hick and Seyyed Hossein Nasr. London: Routledge. Asad, Muhammad. 1980. The Message of the Quran. Gibraltar: Dar al-Andalus. Al-Attas, Syed Muhammad Naguib. 1963. Some Aspects of Sufism as Understood and Practised among the Malays. Singapore: Malaysian Sociological Research Institute Ltd. Al-Shahrastani, Muhammad. 2002. In The Book of Religious and Philosophical Sects, ed. William Cureton. Piscataway: Gorgias Press LLC. Asif, Manan Ahmed. 2016. A Book of Conquest: The Chachnama and Muslim Origins in South Asia. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Berlie, Jean A. 2008. The Burmanization of Myanmar’s Muslims. Bangkok: White Lotus Co Ltd. Bodhi, Bhikkhu, and His Holiness the Dalai Lama. 2016. The Buddha’s Teachings on Social and Communal Harmony: An Anthology of Discourses from the Pali Canon. Somerville: Wisdom Publications.

  John Clifford Holt, Buddhist Extremists and Muslim Minorities: Religious Conflict in Contemporary Sri Lanka (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016); Mahinda Deegalle, ed., Buddhism, Conflict and Violence in Modern Sri Lanka, (London and New York: Routledge, 2006); Neil DeVotta, Sinhalese Buddhist Nationalist Ideology: Implications for Politics and Conflict Resolution in Sri Lanka (Washington D.C.: East-West Center, 2007); Jean A.  Berlie, The Burmanization of Myanmar’s Muslims (Bangkok: White Lotus Co Ltd., 2008); Melissa Crouch, ed., Islam and the State in Myanmar: Muslim-Buddhist Relations and the Politics of Belonging, 1st ed. (New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2016); Imtiyaz Yusuf, “Three Faces of the Rohingya Crisis: Religious Nationalism, Asian Islamophobia, and Delegitimizing Citizenship,” Studia Islamika, [S.l.], v. 25, n. 3, Dec. 2018, 503–542; Azeem Ibrahim, The Rohingyas: Inside Myanmar’s Hidden Genocide (London: Hurst, 2016).

40

12  Islamic Theology of Religious Pluralism: Building Islam-Buddhism Understanding

219

Burnouf, Eugène. 2015. Introduction to the History of Indian Buddhism. Translated by Katia Buffetrille and Donald S. Lopez Jr. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Chakravarti, Uma. 2008. Social Dimensions of Early Buddhism. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publisher. Crouch, Melissa, ed. 2016. Islam and the State in Myanmar: Muslim-Buddhist Relations and the Politics of Belonging. 1st ed. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Deegalle, Mahinda, ed. 2006. Buddhism, Conflict and Violence in Modern Sri Lanka. 1st ed. London/New York: Routledge. DeVotta, Neil. 2007. Sinhalese Buddhist Nationalist Ideology: Implications for Politics and Conflict Resolution in Sri Lanka. East-West Center: Washington, DC. Elverskog, Johan. 2010. Buddhism and Islam on the Silk Road. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Holt, John Clifford. 2016. Buddhist Extremists and Muslim Minorities: Religious Conflict in Contemporary Sri Lanka. New York: Oxford University Press. Ibrahim, Azeem. 2016. The Rohingyas: Inside Myanmar’s Hidden Genocide. 1st ed. London: Hurst. Lopez, S.  Donald, Jr. 2013. From Stone to Flesh: A Short History of the Buddha. Reprint ed. University of Chicago Press. Masuzawa, Tomoko. 2005. The Invention of World Religions: Or, How European Universalism Was Preserved in the Language of Pluralism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Nostra Aetate. Accessed February 28, 2019. http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-­ii_decl_19651028_nostra-­aetate_en.html. Race, Alan. 1983. Christians and Religious Pluralism: Patterns in the Christian Theology of Religions. London: SCM Press. Ramadan, Tariq. 2009. In the Footsteps of the Prophet: Lessons from the Life of Muhammad. New York: Oxford University Press. Sachedina, Abdulaziz. 2001. The Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism. New  York: Oxford University Press. Sardar, Ziauddin. 2014. Mecca: The Sacred City. New York: Bloomsbury. Schimmel, Annemarie. 2011. Mystical Dimensions of Islam. 2nd ed. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press. Scott, David. 1995. Buddhism and Islam: Past to Present Encounters and Interfaith Lessons. Numen 42: 141–155. Watt, W. Montgomery. 1974. Muhammad: Prophet and Statesman. Revised ed. London/New York: Oxford University Press. Yusuf, Imtiyaz. 2003. Religious Diversity in a Buddhist Majority Country: The Case of Islam in Thailand. International Journal of Buddhist Thought and Culture 3 (September): 131–143. ———. 2009. Dialogue Between Islam and Buddhism through the Concepts Ummatan Wasaṭan (The Middle Nation) and Majjhima-Patipada (The Middle Way). Islamic Studies 48 (3): 367–394. ———. 2017. Celebrating Muhammad’s Birthday in Buddha’s Land: Managing Religious Relations through Religious Festival. In Religion, Public Policy and Social Transformation in Southeast Asia — Religion, Identity and Gender, ed. Dicky Sofjan, vol. 2, 129–160. Geneva: Globethics.net International Secretariat. ———. 2018. Three Faces of the Rohingya Crisis: Religious Nationalism, Asian Islamophobia, and Delegitimizing Citizenship. Studia Islamika, [S.l.] 25 (3): 503–542. Yusuf, S.M. 1955. The Early Contacts Between Islam and Buddhism. University of Ceylon Review 13: 1–28.

Chapter 13

Sufism and Politics Clinton Bennett

Abstract  This chapter analyses the correlation between Muslim majority states ranked higher on the Economist Intelligence Unit’s Democracy Index 2017 and the activism of Sufi citizens. The higher ranked states have a substantial or significant Sufi presence while those ranked lowest discourage or officially restrict Sufism. This chapter resists arguing for an automatic correlation between Sufism and democracy. Sufis have supported and cooperated with authoritarian regimes including colonial rulers against whom they have also rebelled to protect their own interests. Nor is there a rigid boundary between Salafism and Sufism. The chapter tentatively suggests that Sufi political activism can help to nurture democracy given the presence of other factors such as an historical tolerance of minorities and relative lack of regional or ethnic rivalries. Given a global retreat from democracy, any resource that can be used to nurture, promote and protect democratic pluralism is worth serious consideration and scrutiny. Keywords  Sufism and democracy · Sufi politics · Arab Spring · Indonesia · Malaysia · Tunisia · Egypt · Turkey

13.1  I ntroduction: The Health of Democracy in Muslim Majority States A possible starting point for a survey of the state of democracy in Muslim majority countries are the Economist Intelligence Unit (EIU)‘s Democracy Index and the Freedom House (FH) report to see how these Muslim majority states compare in ranks with other states. Published annually since 2007 and 1973 respectively, both show a marked decline in the health of democracy worldwide. In the 2017 EIU report, eighty nine countries were given lower scores, twenty seven scores were C. Bennett (*) State University of New York, Albany, NY, USA e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_13

221

222

C. Bennett

raised and fifty one remained static.1 The Freedom House reports a twelve year decline in freedom and democracy globally.2 The EIU report emphasizes that free speech is globally vulnerable. On the EIU scale, 49.3% of the world’s population live in “a democracy of some sort”3 but only 4.5% live in full democracies; 31% live in authoritarian states. According to the Indexes of 2018 and 2020, there are some changes in the standing of countries reviewed here: Senegal has slipped to the sixth place among Muslim majority countries with Bangladesh now in the 5th place.4 This chapter mainly refers to the 2017 statistics, examined during the preparation of the early version of the chapter, but adds a section on Bangladesh and refer when relevant to the 2018 and 2019 indexes. In 2017, no Muslim-majority state is categorized as a full democracy. Of the Muslim-majority states for which data was available four – i.e. Malaysia, Tunisia, Indonesia and Senegal  – were considered flawed democracies  – as were France, Belgium, Italy, Japan, and the United States which scores below South Korea – and thirteen were hybrid democracies. In 2019, Senegal was demoted to the hybrid category. Freedom House described the USA as “accelerating its withdrawal from the democratic struggle.” On the EIU index, seventeen Muslim majority states fitted into the “democracy of some sort” category which left twenty-six as authoritarian (roughly double the global percentage). Based on this data, it would be appropriate to talk about a democracy deficit in Muslim-majority contexts. The EIU and Freedom House reports attract some criticism about how they rank states but both also enjoy wide recognition for sound qualitative methodology. There is no other comparable source of data, which is why these are used in this chapter. The main criticism of the EIU is that the report does not identify the participating experts or specify their relationship with the EIU and therefore lacks transparency and accountability. FH is funded by the US government which has raised questions about its neutrality although 53 states have higher scores than the US on the 2018 report, so it is difficult to accuse it of pro-US bias. The EIU Democracy Index appears annually during January for the previous year. It uses sixty indicators covering political participation, pluralism, political culture, and civil liberties including freedom of association, of the press and of religion to measure the health of democracy. It publishes data on one hundred and sixty-seven countries. The data is gathered from polls, surveys and from expert responses to questions with two or three permitted answers in each category. Rankings are calculated as a weighted average of answers to these questions. The FH report rates countries on a scale of zero to one hundred. FH categorizes countries as Free (39% of countries), Partly Free (30%) and Not Free (25%). A score above 30 in the civil liberties sub-category is necessary for a country to be categorized as democratic. FH scores cited in this chapter are

 Democracy Index 2017: Free Speech Under Attack (London: EIU, 2018).  Freedom in the World 2018: Democracy in Crisis (Washington, DC: Freedom House, 2018). 3  Democracy Index 2007, 3. 4  The top five Muslim states on the 2019 index are Malaysia, Tunisia, Indonesia, Albania, Bangladesh. 1 2

13  Sufism and Politics

223

aggregates of all subcategories. FH uses a team of researchers and consultants who scan official reports, international and national media reports, academic analysis and other sources to determine scores for each category. Pluralism in this chapter is understood as a necessary foundation stone for democracy, which requires the existence of a choice of political platforms as opposed to one party or individual (such as a dictator or monarch) being privileged. Although religious diversity is not an essential ingredient because a state with close to 100% Muslims can be pluralist politically it may be a factor in states that have lower percentages of Muslims and significant non-Muslim populations.

13.2  O  n Analyzing the Democracy Deficit in Muslim Majority States Some will no doubt argue that Islam and democracy simply do not mix and that this is sufficient to explain the deficit. Yet, if Islam and democracy do not mix how is it that some Muslim majority-states score relatively highly on the index? Are these Muslim citizens less true to their faith, less orthodox, or are other factors apart from religion involved, causing what could be called a tendency toward authoritarianism across territory where Islam is the largest religion? This chapter agrees with M. A. Muqtedar Khan that “the challenge is not to argue that Islam and democracy are compatible – that debate is settled” but “to go a step further and show how an Islamic democracy may be conceived and what its constitutional principles and architecture will be.”5 Analysis of causes would need to investigate the role played by several historical and geo-political factors. For example, of the five Muslim majority states that ranked highest in 2017, namely Malaysia at 59, Indonesia at 68, Tunisia at equal 69 with Singapore, Senegal at 74 (all in the flawed category) and Albania at 77 (highest in the hybrid category), only one falls into the MENA region of the Middle East and North Africa. On the other hand, of those in the bottom five, namely Syria, second lowest globally (lowest on the Freedom House scale at −1), Chad, Turkmenistan, Saudi Arabia and Tajikistan, three are in MENA and two are former Soviet republics in Central Asia. Are there factors in the MENA region that are less conducive to nurturing democracy than there are in Asia? Whether particular factors in given regions hinder or encourage democratization requires investigation. Other factors include the presence or absence of a strong civil society (Table 13.1). The two Central Asian states – Tajikistan and Turkmenistan – experienced totalitarian rule for about two centuries beginning with Russian conquest in the nineteenth century, followed by the Soviet period that ended in 1991. Both, in the post-Soviet era, have opted for authoritarian regimes. Chad has been governed by

5  M.A. Muqtedar Khan, “Islamic Governance and Democracy,” in Islam and Democratization in Asia, ed. Shiping Hua, 13–27 (Amherst, NY: Cambria, 2009) 16.

224

C. Bennett

Table 13.1  Highest and Lowest Five Ranked Muslim majority democracies TOP on EIU 2017 index Malaysia (EIU, 59) (FH, 45) Indonesia (EIU, 68) (FH, 64) Tunisia (EIU, equal with Singapore, 69) (FH, 70) Senegal (EIU, 74) (FH, 75 highest Muslim Majority rank) Albania (EIU 77) (FH, 68)

BOTTOM on EIU 2017 index Tajikistan (eight lowest, 159) (FH, 11) Saudi Arabia (equal 159) (FH, 7) Turkmenistan (sixth lowest, 162) (FH, 4) Chad (third lowest, 165) (FH, 18) Syria (second lowest globally) (166)(FH, −1)

authoritarian rulers usually closely allied with the military since the independence from France (in 1960). A civil war between the mainly Muslim north and the Christian south waged between 2005 and 2010 did nothing to address the underlying issues of inequality between north and south and how power and resources are distributed. Without examining in detail the complex web of geo-political, historical and cultural factors and inter-group rivalries involved in each of these contexts it would be rash to blame Islam per se for lack of democracy. In Syria’s case, given the ongoing civil war, it might be facile to think that democracy could flourish in the current circumstances. None of the countries in the bottom five have democratic traditions on which to draw. Most MENA countries have long histories of rule by Sultans, Ottoman Governors or rulers technically or in practice under Ottoman suzerainty, usually followed by European colonialism that lacked any element of democracy. At the exact time that European states were developing their democracies they were denying democracy to their colonial subjects, including those in Muslim-majority spaces, by ruling through centralized, authoritarian administrators.

13.3  S  ufism as a Factor in Nurturing Pluralism and Democracy In this discussion about the existence or lack of pluralism in these Muslim majority states one factor that can be identified is the role that Sufis have played in shaping national culture. In several of the top ranked states, Sufis helped spread Islam by finding ways of coexisting with other religions, and choosing to stress commonalities and even blurring boundaries. This took place in South East Asia with Hinduism, Buddhism and animism for example and in Senegal with African Traditional Religions. Sufism’s affirmation of pluralism, its recognition that truth wherever it exists has the same divine source, and its respect for others may predispose Sufis to prefer democratic, open systems over authoritarian ones that seek to impose religious and social conformity on all citizens and discriminate against some on the basis of creed, gender and other identities. Sufism values serving others because this helps to shift away from a self-centric life toward a God centered life. In this

13  Sufism and Politics

225

chapter, Sufism refers to traditionally organized devotional orders headed by teachers (Shaykhs, or marabouts in Africa) with formal membership structures rather than to the practice of a Sufi-flavored religion without affiliation to a specific Sufi path (ṭarīqa). Some neo-Sufi organizations are also politically engaged while some politically active Muslims not affiliated to a Sufi order may practice a Sufi influenced version of Islam. It is easier to find data related to the first of these categories, thus the focus of this chapter. Neo-Sufi organizations usually have no formal membership or initiation rites and are often reformist in outlook; several operate in the West and accept non-Muslim members.6 On the one hand, it is impossible to claim an automatic relationship between Sufis and support for democracy. Many represent Sufis as typically passive in or absent from politics, concentrating on the personal spiritual journey, and would see any correlation between being Sufi and promoting democracy as an oxymoron. Sufi orders are not democratically organized. Sufis have openly collaborated with authoritarian regimes and still do or have stood on the political sidelines. Some Sufis resisted colonial rule by joining rebellions while some chose to collaborate with them to protect their own interests. Some Salafists are Sufis, thus it is naïve to juxtapose Sufis on one side as natural allies of democracy and Salafists on the other as anti-democratic.7 The actual relationship between Salafism and Sufism is complex; having or having had some Sufi affliliations, the founders of some Salafist organizations take with them certain Sufi principles into their (political) movements.8 Nonetheless, an examination of Islam on the ground, the presence of women in the political arena included, in Malaysia, Indonesia, Tunisia, Senegal and Albania may tentatively support the hypothesis that some relationship between Sufism and democracy exists. South and South East Asian Sufism has a history of embracing pluralism which does not exist in some other contexts, including Syria and Chad where there are strong Sufi traditions (55% in Chad) but no legacies of blurred religious boundaries.9 Although Pew Research does not give a percentage, Syria has large religious minorities and a Sufi presence but the current civil war has so polarized different communities that any legacy of harmonious co-existence appears of little or no value. Prior to the outbreak of the war, though, some saw Sufis in Syria as potentially contributing positively toward social cohesion.10 The two central 6  For a more detailed analysis of Sufi political engagement see Sufism, Pluralism and Democracy, eds. Clinton Bennett and Sarwar Alam (Sheffield: Equinox, 2017), chapter one, “Sufis, Saints and Politics in Islam: An Historical Survey,” 25–49. 7  On Sufis and Salafists, see Lloyd Ridgeon, ed., Sufis and Salafists in the Contemporary Age (London: Bloomsbury, 2015). 8  For example, the Muslim Brotherhood borrowed from Sufi organizational structure and perpetuated the Sufi tradition of social welfare provision. 9  Statistics on the number of people who declare an affiliation with a Sufi order in this chapter are from Pew Research, Religious Identity Among Muslims, Q32, http://www.pewforum. org/2012/08/09/the-worlds-muslims-unity-and-diversity-1-religious-affiliation/; accessed October 30, 2018. 10  Paulo G. Pinto, “Sufism, Moral Performance and the Public Sphere in Syria,” Revue des Mondes Musulmans et de la Méditerranée, 115–116, 2006, 155–171.

226

C. Bennett

Asian states are religiously and ethnically much more homogenous than the Asian states; thus, while Sufism enjoy a remarkable presence, it has not played an historical role of interfaith bridge building. Tajikistan is 95% Sunni with a small Christian population. Only state sanctioned forms of worship are permitted by a 2009 law which, according to Human Rights Watch, “heightens state repression of faith groups” and bans “several peaceful Muslim organizations.”11 Mosques are under direct government oversight. Recent research suggests that Tajikistan’s authoritarian government is successfully recruiting aspects of Sufism, such as the duty of obeying the shaykh, to encourage conformity.12 Turkmenistan is 89% Sunni and 9% Christian. Turkmenistan administers a policy of religious conformity with a book of spiritual writing by a former President as a required reading for all citizens and mosques under tight government control. Religions must be state registered. Most forms of association are illegal, including worship outside of registered buildings (such as private residences). The Council on Religious Affairs is tasked with regulating the conduct of registered religious bodies. In analyzing why some Muslim majority states appear to find it easier to embrace democracy, another factor may be involved: do these societies have a tradition of regarding themselves as enriched or as impoverished by being pluralist societies? In the specific case of Saudi Arabia, and also in the two central Asian states, there is little or no history of racial or religious pluralism. Saudi Arabia is wholly Arab. Tajiks are mainly of Iranian descent with a smaller Turkic population. Turkmenistan is mainly Turkic. Christianity came to Chad in the twentieth century and took root almost exclusively in the south where Sufis have not developed a bridge-building legacy. The Saudi regime sponsors a single version of Islam which sees Sufis as deviant. The Shiʿa experience discrimination and have been denounced as heretics by leading Muslim scholars. The analyses below focuses on the five highest ranked Muslim majority states on the democracy index. However, the cases of Egypt, Turkey and Pakistan will also be discussed (Egypt in contrast with Tunisia) as these challenge the hypothesis that where Sufis are politically engaged democracy is likely to develop.

 Human Rights Watch, Tajikistan country report, https://www.hrw.org/world-report/2010/country-chapters/Tajikistan; accessed October 30, 2018. 12  Benjamin Clark Gatling, Post-Soviet Sufism: Texts and the Performance of Tradition in Tajikistan, Unpublished PhD dissertation, Ohio State University, 2012; https://etd.ohiolink.edu/!etd.send_file ?accession=osu1345143093&disposition=inline; accessed October 30, 2018 11

13  Sufism and Politics

227

13.4  The Top Five Ranked Muslim Majority Democracies 13.4.1  Malaysia In 2017, Malaysia overtook Indonesia as the highest ranked Muslim majority state on the democracy index. Although government policy in Malaysia privileges ethnic Malays, who are all officially classed as Muslim, which effectively discriminates against non-Muslims, Malaysia constitutionally guarantees religious freedom. Muslims represent 61%, Christians 9.2%, Buddhists 19.8% and Hindus 6.3%, besides smaller communities of Taoists and Sikhs. Pew Research cites the Sufi population as 17%. Malaysia’s nine hereditary rulers recently reiterated that Malaysia’s heritage is multiethnic and multireligious, stating that “people must respect the constitutional principle that Malaysia is a multi-ethnic and multi-confessional country.”13 The Committee to Promote Understanding and Harmony among Religions is officially tasked with improving interfaith relations. Currently, Wan Arizah Wan Ismail, a woman, serves as Deputy Prime Minister, the highest rank achieved by a female in Malaysia. Muslim societies where Sufism flourishes are also often those where women have occupied high political office, perhaps due in part to a tradition of women Sufi teachers and to Sufi openness to feminine as well as masculine images of the divine. In 2017, the Malaysian government announced the opening of a World Sufi Center to help spread Sufism globally. Some Malaysian ulama, though, issue fatwas condemning Sufism as deviant. The Sufi-related al-­ Arqam movement was banned in 1994. Its millenarianism was disturbing but the founder, Ustaz Ashaari, who was a strong supporter of national unity across racial and religious lines, fully embraces the value of pluralism and social solidarity, which actually contradicts the movement’s ethno-nationalist image.14 Many Muftis, appointed by the hereditary sultans, however, are affiliated to Sufi orders although some subscribe to various Islamist versions of Islam.

13.4.2  Indonesia As in Malaysia, Islam in Indonesia was largely spread by Sufis who saw no reason to draw rigid boundaries between their practices and beliefs and those of other religions. Indonesia is home both to traditional Sufi orders and to eclectic, indigenous

 Reuters World News, “Malaysia’s Royals Call for Religious Tolerance in Rare Pubic Intervention, October 10, 2017, https://www.reuters.com/article/us-malaysia-politics/malaysias-royals-call-forreligious-tolerance-in-rare-public-intervention-idUSKBN1CF272; accessed October 30, 2018. 14  See Ahmad Fauzi Abdul Hamid, “The Challenge of Religious Pluralism in Malaysia with Special Reference to the Sufi Thought of Ustaz Ashaari Muhammad, Comparative Islamic Studies, 9: 1, 2013, 9–40. 13

228

C. Bennett

ones whose founders do not trace a spiritual lineage back to the prophet Muhammad.15 Several political parties have close ties with Sufi orders. Muhammad Abdurrahman Waheed, President of Indonesia between 1991 and 2001, was a Sufi leader. He was outspoken in his defense of democracy and interfaith harmony as offering the best future for Muslim societies. His party, the Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa (National Awaking Party) (PKB), unlike several political parties elsewhere, is not formally affiliated with Sufi orders but it is linked with Nahdlatul Ulama (the world’s largest Islamic association), which has official ties to forty-five Sufi ṭuruq and appears to attract Sufi electoral support. Affiliated Sufi leaders have played important roles in mobilizing rural support during successive elections. PKB’s constituency is mainly non-urban. Presently a coalition partner with cabinet posts, PKB has the largest vote share among religious parties in Indonesia although the overall popularity of religious parties has declined. The Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (Prosperous Justice Party) (PKS), the Islamist alternative, has fewer seats in parliament and has recently tended to align its policies more closely with those of PKB and the larger non-sectarian parties, toning down its more radically Islamist policies as these attract fewer votes. Indonesia appears to support the hypothesis that where Sufis are active in the political arena they are pro-democracy, and prefer inclusive policies that treat all citizens equally regardless of religious identity. Indonesia, though, dropped in 2017 from 49th to 68th in democracy index, being the biggest decline globally. Yet, it still has the second highest score for a Muslim-majority state. The decline was due to the arrest of a minority candidate, a Christian of Chinese ethnicity, during the 2017 Jakarta gubernatorial election, who was charged and found guilty of blasphemy. This has raised concerns about the possibility of an Islamist resurgence in the next election that might legally privilege Islam over other religions. However, this writer’s conversations with Indonesian colleagues suggests that pluralism is deeply rooted in the Indonesian culture and democracy, too popular to be easily surrendered. Both are unlikely to be seriously compromised. They are constitutionally enshrined in the doctrine of the Pancasila, which PKB endorses, and in the state recognition of six religions. Islamism does not appear able to attract sufficient electoral support to win at the ballot box although, like elsewhere, it can create instability and foster animosity toward segments of the population that compromises democracy, especially when repressive measures are taken to counter this. President Waheed was succeeded by a female as president, Megawati Sukarnoputri (from 2001 to 2004), which may also owe a debt to the role played by women in traditional leadership structures in parts of Indonesia as well as to the Sufi heritage of women teachers. Indonesia’s Freedom House score, at 64, is less impressive than its EIU ranking but is higher than Malaysia’s (45th).

 On Islam’s spread by Sufis in South East Asia, see Clinton Bennett, “Syncretistic Sufi Gnosticism in South and South East Asia,” in The Gnostic World, ed. Garry W. Trompf, Gunner B. Mikkelsen, and Jay Johnston (Abingdon: Routledge, 2018), 595–602.

15

13  Sufism and Politics

229

13.4.3  Tunisia The case of Tunisia, considered the sole success story of the Arab Spring, may usefully be contrasted with recent events in Egypt. Only Tunisia and Israel rank as “flawed democracies” in the region. Tunisia represents a different perspective than the Asian states because it has a much more homogenous population of 99% Arab Muslims, making it more similar to states that score lower on the democracy index. Non-Muslims represent a tiny percentage of the population, yet relations between faith communities are generally cordial. The Catholic church has an agreement with the state. A recent report describes five nuns and a priest living in a remote, mountainous town surrounded by thousands of Muslims with whom they enjoy very friendly relations. Many Muslims volunteer in their social welfare and educational programmes.16 On the island of Djerba, site of the ancient El Ghriba synagogue and home to about one thousand Jews, Jews and Muslims celebrate together during an annual pilgrimage and speak of a long legacy of religious harmony with daily commercial interaction and sharing of food on each other’s special days.17 Tunisia now permits conversion from one religion to another, and permits Muslim women to marry non-Muslim men. Only monogamous marriage is legal. During Ben Ali’s long dictatorship (1987–2011) Sufis were politically passive, as they were in Egypt under successive nondemocratic presidencies; and organized opposition was led by Islamist movements, Ennahda in Tunisia and the al-Ikhwān al-Muslimūn in Egypt. After the Arab Spring (from December 2010), both movements were elected to power. Ennahda’s leader, Rached al-Ghannouchi had long represented his movement as pro-democracy, a claim that attracted scorn from Western critics who accused him of speaking with a forked-tongue because, they alleged, he would use democracy to gain power only to then dismantle it and implement Islamist policies. In 2005, Mohamed Elhachmi Hamdi wrote that al-Ghannouchi, who was then in exile, had “failed to be coherent in his views on many important issues, including his stance towards the West, the way in which to change the Tunisian regime, the status of women, and democracy itself.”18 However, al-Ghannouchi, who had returned from exile immediately after the Jasmine revolution of December 2010 to win the largest vote share in 2011 elections, did not take office personally, and in 2014 the party relinquished power in favor of a government of national unity committed to  Christina Uguccioni, “Tunisia, Christians and Muslims Live in Peace in Ain Draham,“Vatican Insider World News, May 31, 2018, https://www.lastampa.it/2018/05/31/vaticaninsider/tunisiachristians-and-muslims-live-in-peace-in-ain-draham-6StbXKqF8xaUXOscZZHyAJ/pagina.html accessed October 30 2018. 17  “Reuters, “Jews and Muslims Celebrate Unusual Coexistence in Tunisia’s Djerba,” May 16, 2018, https://www.haaretz.com/jewish/MAGAZINE-jews-and-muslims-celebrate-unusualcoexistence-in-tunisia-s-djerba-1.6094484 accessed October 30 2018. 18  Mohamed Elhachmi Hamdi, “Islam and Liberal Democracy: The Limits of the Western Model,” Journal of Democracy, 7: 2 (1996), 81–5, 83–4; see Clinton Bennett, Muslims and Modernity: An Introduction to the issues and debates (London: Continuum, 2005), 41. 16

230

C. Bennett

r­ econciliation. Some have attributed this to Sufi influence. Tunisia, which has a relatively small number of active Sufis (Pew gives as few as 1%), has seen Sufis targeted by extremists who have violently attacked shrines. However, the Arab Weekly, in December 2016, reported that Tunisians had refused, following the revolution, to choose Salafists over Sufism and that Tunisia’s main Islamist political party, Ennahda, had decided that Sufism was there to stay. As Ennahda prepared for its Congress, where it voted to support separation of religion and state, some scholars were arguing that Sufism has an important role to play.19 A March 7, 2018 report in The Christian Science Monitor judged that the Salafists had miscalculated how embedded Sufism was in Tunisian culture and identity with neighborhoods and villages across the country named after Sufis, and where many people trace descent from saints. Visits to shrines has increased. The article cites an electrical engineer, who was leaving a morning recitation at a shrine, who informed the reporter that Tunisians would prefer to forfeit their nationality than their religious practices. The report also described the role that woman play in preparing and serving food at shrines and pray alongside men, pointing out that this is a rarity in Muslim contexts.20 This suggests that Sufism in Tunisia is seen as an alternative to the Salafist option that would limit women’s rights and freedom. The 2014 election saw a record number of women elected to Parliament. With 33.6% female representation in Parliament, Tunisia has the highest percentage in the Arab world (and more than the European Union average of 27%21). Recently, Ennhada’s female candidate, a member of its politburo, won election as mayor of Tunis. In 2018, a member of the Jewish community, René Trabelsi, was appointed Minister of Tourism, to be the only Jewish cabinet member in any Muslim majority country in recent decades. At least anecdotally, the case of Tunisia seems to support the hypothesis that where Sufi Muslims are present in significant numbers or are politically engaged the state is more likely to be higher on the democracy index. Tunisia scores 70 on the Freedom House index.

 Lamine Ghamni, “In Tunisia, Sufism is Here to Stay,” Arab Weekly, December 02, 2016, https:// thearabweekly.com/tunisia-sufism-here-stay; accessed October 30, 2018. 20  Taylor Luck, “How Tunisia’s Resilient Sufis have Withstood Hardline Islamist attack,” Christian Science Monitor, March 11, 2018, https://www.csmonitor.com/World/Middle-East/2018/0307/ How-Tunisia-s-resilient-Sufis-have-withstood-hard-line-Islamist-attack; accessed October 30, 2018. 21  Iman Zayat, “Tunisia tops Arab women’s representation in Parliament,” Arab Weekly, September 25, 2016, https://thearabweekly.com/tunisia-tops-arab-womens-representation-parliament, accessed October 30, 2018. 19

13  Sufism and Politics

231

13.4.4  Senegal Senegal has the highest percentage of active Sufis of any Muslim-majority state – about 92% according to Pew Research. About 4% of the Senegalese are Christian. It is not unusual for Christians and Muslims to belong to the same family. Under the French rule many Sufi teachers collaborated with the colonial regime effectively, entering a social contract that enabled stability through a demarcation of political and religious power. Initially, this contract saw Sufis in alliance with authoritarian colonial rule, but during post-independence it has helped deliver votes at elections and has ensured the peaceful transfer of power while effectively leaving religious matters with the marabouts. “By emphasizing those parts of the Qur’an’s multivocality that urge tolerance as a response to diversity”22 the contract has nurtured a tradition of respect in which Muslims and members of religious minorities interact and coexist harmoniously. Christians and Muslims help build each other’s places of worship. National Public Radio in the USA reported in December 2013 that Senegal might point the way forward for interfaith relations in often conflict ridden West Africa due to a history of peaceful religious co-existence.23 The way Sufism became rooted in Senegal helped sustain local “matrimonial roles, including the preeminence of matrilineage and the power of women in some areas,”24 which may explain the fact has had two women Prime Ministers so far, namely Mame Madior Boye (2001–2002) and Aminata Touré (2013–2014). No many democracies have elected one, let alone two female heads of government. Scoring tenth highest out of Africa’s fifty-four states on the EIU index, Senegal is generally considered one of the continent’s most stable and successful democracies. Senegal’s score of 75 on the Freedom House index was the highest for a Muslim majority state. On the most recent EIU Democracy Index, Senegal slipped into the 6th place for a Muslim majority state at 82, replaced by Bangladesh at the 5th position at 80 because Albania at 79 took the fourth place.

13.4.5  Bangladesh Like Indonesia, the region that is now Bangladesh has a long and rich history of religious harmony in which Sufis played a significant role in blurring religious boundaries and accommodating Islam to the local culture. Currently the party of

 Mamadou Diouf, “Introduction: The Public Role of ‘The Good’: Sufi Islam and the Administration of Pluralism,” in Tolerance, Democracy, and Sufis in Senegal, ed. Mamadou Diouf (New York: Columbia University Press, 2013), 2. 23  Ofeiba Quist-Arcton, “In Conflict Torn Africa, Senegal Shows a Way to Religious Harmony,” NPR Africa, December 28, 2013 https://www.npr.org/2013/12/28/257822199/in-conflict-tornafrica-senegal-shows-a-way-to-religious-harmony; accessed October 30, 2018. 24  Diouf, “Introduction,” 8. 22

232

C. Bennett

government, the Awami League, has two Hindu cabinet members and 18 Hindu MPs. In the recent past, a Christian also served in government from a community of less than 1% of the population. Of three political parties founded by Sufi shaykhs, two belong to the government coalition and one is allied with the opposition. Again, this supports the thesis that where Sufis are politically active and where pluralism is culturally healthy, the state is more likely to support democracy.25 The largest Islamist party, Jamaat-e-Islami, was banned from politics by the Supreme Court in 2013 because it opposes Bangladesh’s secular constitution.26 Earlier, Jamaat-e-­ Islami had cabinet posts in the Bangladesh Nationalist Party’s government which boycotted the 2014 election and only won ten seats in 2018. Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina says that she bases her political polity on the (Prophet’s) Constitution of Medina, which granted equal right to Muslims and non-Muslims. Like Senegal, two women have served as Prime Ministers, Khaleda Begum (2001–2006, 1991–1996) and Sheikh Hasina (1996–2001, 2008–2014, 2014–2018, 2018-present). Despite opposition claims that the 2018 election was rigged, the EIU report mentioned notable improvements,27 which raised Bangladesh’s rank from 88 in 2018 to 80 in 2019. This may be an example, however, of the report’s limitations because it does not describe in any detail why Bangladesh’s ranking changed.

13.4.6  Albania Albania was also mainly evangelized by Sufis who are still seen as significant shapers of national identity. Muslims represent 58% of the population, besides various Christian churches at about 20%. Bektashi, a Shi‘i Sufi order, represents about 2%. Other Sufi orders are also active. Pew gives 13% as Sufi. The media reports examples of Imams and Christian clergy enjoying close relations,28 and of a long history of cordial interfaith relations rooted in Sufi openness and tolerance. Interfaith marriages are common. On May 3rd, 2018, religious leaders including Sufis met to promote harmony, collaboration and to affirm shared values as a foundation on which Albania’s modernization project can be constructed.29 They issued a Joint  For a detailed analyses of Bangladesh, see Bennett, “Sufis as Shapers of Pluralist Political Cultures: The Examples of Bangladesh and Indonesia,” in Sufism, Pluralism and Democracy, eds. Bennett and Alam, op. cit., 121–146. 26  The principle of secularism was removed from the original 1972 constitution in 1988 under a military regime but was restored by the 15th Amendment in 2011, although Islam remains the “state religion” which some see as paradoxixal. 27  EIU Democracy Index 2019, p. 16. 28  Lindita Arapi, “Interfaith Dialogue in Albania,” translated by Jennifer Taylor, Welle/Qantara.de 2017, https://en.qantara.de/content/interfaith-dialogue-in-albania-loving-their-neighbours, accessed October 30, 2018. 29  “Leonie Vrugtman, “Albania’s religious harmony endures in the face of new challenges,” Global Risks Insiight, May 11, 2018 https://globalriskinsights.com/2018/05/interfaith-co-existence-albania-remains-strong-face-new-challenges/, accessed October 30, 2018. 25

13  Sufism and Politics

233

Declaration affirming Albania’s legacy as a “beautiful mosaic” of religions which respects difference without preventing “cooperation in social fields and active dialogue between our communities and the whole society in order to preserve and promote moral, ethical and cultural values.”30 In his 2014 visit, Pope Francis described Albania’s legacy of interfaith harmony as both a national treasure and a global beacon of hope, and met with leaders of all faith communities. In 2017, a record number of women were elected to Parliament (28%; in 2013, the percentage was 18). The highest office occupied by women so far is Minister of Defense. From 2013 to 2017 this post was held by Mimi Kodheli, succeeded by Olta Xhaçka in 2017. Albania scores 68 on the Freedom House index, which is above Malaysia and Indonesia.

13.5  T  urkey, Egypt and Pakistan: Challenging the Thesis that Sufi Activism Trends Toward Democracy Although Tukey’s governing Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi (Justice and Freedom Party) (AKP) has been described as more or less a coalition of Sufi orders,31 developments in the country under Tayyip Erdoğan, a practicing Sufi who belongs to the Community of İskenderpaşa, a branch of the Naqshbandiyya-Khalidiyya Ṭarīqa, have increased the president’s power, curtailed academic and press freedoms so that a country where Sufis are engaged in politics has slipped down the democracy ranking from 87 in 2008 to 100 in 2017 (consistent 88–89 until 2014, when it dropped to equal 98 with Lebanon). The EIU describes Turkey as a “vast prison for journalists.”32 Regarding them as hindering modernization, Turkey banned Sufi orders in 1925 though they continued to flourish underground, and earlier leaders have had affiliations with the same lodge including former President Turgut Özal (1927–1993) and former prime minister Necmettin Erbakan (1926–2011). Walid Shoebat, referring to the Sufi goal of deification (though many prefer the term unification) describes how some Turks see Erdoğan as a divine figure so that even touching him is a form of worship. In his view, Erdoğan sees no reason why his policies need legislative approval.33 Erdoğan’s politics has been described as

 Declaration of Religious Communities in Albania, March 05, 2018, http://orthodoxalbania.org/ alb/index.php/en-us/lajme-3/blog/4717-declaration-of-religious-communities-in-albania-jointengagement-for-interfaith-dialogue-3-5-2018#, accessed October 30, 2018. 31  Svante E.  Cornell describes AKP as “with only slight exaggeration… a coalition of religious orders” “The Naqshbandi Khalidi Order and Political Islam in Turkey,” The HudsonI Institute, September 3, 2015, https://www.hudson.org/research/11601-the-naqshbandi-khalidi-order-andpolitical-islam-in-turkey, accessed October 30, 2018. 32  Democracy Index 2017, 45. 33  Walid Shoebat, “Shocking: How Muslims are Now Declaring Erdogan as a God,” Shoebat.com, 2015, available at http://shoebat.org/2015/03/30/shocking-muslims-are-now-declaring-erdoganas-god/, accessed October 30, 2018. 30

234

C. Bennett

neo-­Ottomanism as he seeks to revive Turkey’s influence in former provinces of the Ottoman Empire. Critics accuse him of acting like an Ottoman sultan. On the other hand, the neo-Sufi Gülen movement opposes Erdoğan who blames it for the 2016 attempted coup d’etat. The case of Egypt is also less supportive of this chapter’s hypothesis. After the Arab Spring in Egypt, which had the full support of Sufi leaders although they had previously collaborated with the state, three Sufi parties were formed, sponsored by Sufi shaykhs with the anti-Islamist Egyptian bloc. All three are committed to democracy and to equal rights for Muslims and non-Muslims.34 None won any seats. Following the ouster of the Ikhwan-related government, many Sufi leaders rallied around General al-Sisi’s bid for the presidency. In 2018, the head of the Supreme Council for Sufi Orders told journalists that a series of events were being planned in support of al-Sisi re-election and praised his track record in holding the country together and opposing extremism. Copts, too, support al-Sisi.35 An article in The Independent, in March 2018, credited his second victory in part to Christian votes in return for protection from attack. Post-Arab Spring, so many new political parties – about a hundred – in Egypt entered the field, a fact which may have led the Sufis to retreat into a pragmatic alliance with an authoritarian regime that leaves them free to function and run their teaching and social activities. Pakistan, created after India’s independence in 1947 as a homeland for Muslims, ranked 108th on the most recent index (Turkey is at 110). Millions of Muslim migrated to Pakistan from the India and millions of Hindus migrated to India. Yet Islam’s role in the state was vague and much discussion surrounded this even after “Islamic” was officially added to the Republic’s name in 1956. Islam was meant to be the common factor that would help different ethnicities and regions, migrants and non-migrants cohere, but regions campaigned for independence and the East province fought a liberation war to become independent Bangladesh in 1971. Different political parties supported various forms of Islamic governance while others supported secular forms of governance. Lengthy periods of military rule disrupted democracy. The non-Muslim minority, a very small percentage of the population, has faced various forms of discrimination and sometimes violence. Yet Sufi shaykhs have had a presence in the political arena. The last democratic restoration in 2008 has so far achieved some degree of political stability, though at 108th on the Index many challenges remain, including treatment of minorities and women’s rights, especially but not only, in education. So far, although currently, forty-­ three hereditary Sufi shaykhs sit in Pakistan’s parliament,36 Sufi political activism has not had visible results in establishing a healthy, pluralist culture. These MPs are  On these parties, see Clinton Bennett, “Sufis, Saints and Politics in Islam: An Historical Survey,” 53–70, in Sufism, Pluralism and Democracy, eds. Clinton Bennett and Sarwar Alam (Sheffield: Equinox, 2017), 32–33. 35  An Egyptian Christian recently told me that al-Sisi is a wonderful man, how much he is doing to rebuild Egypt’s infrastructure and how much the Christian community appreciates his presidency. 36  See “Pakistan’s living saints flex their political muscle,” Financial Times, April 13, 2018, at https://www.ft.com/content/b7503f38-358e-11e8-8eee-e06bde01c544, accessed July 25, 2020. 34

13  Sufism and Politics

235

eager to protect their own political interests rather than bring about change in Pakistan’s political climate.

13.6  Conclusion Given the examples of Malaysia, Indonesia, Tunisia, Senegal and Albania, a tentative argument can be offered to support the proposition that Sufis tend to be allies of democracy and friends of pluralism. Since several western states’ democracy rankings have been downgraded, including those of France and the USA, while some in both of these states and elsewhere want to demonize all Muslims, wherever they live, democracy’s development in Muslim-majority context may help combat this very negative view of Muslim societies. The possibility that Sufis might more often than not choose democracy when given the option – and given the presence of other conducive factors  – is worth more critical attention than this single chapter can offer. More research is needed. This includes for example what role Sufis may have a role in Morocco, which, currently 96th on the index, appears to be developing towards becoming a constitutional monarchy, as indicated by the 2011 referendum and the 2018 law on women’s new list of rights. Clifford Geetz’ Islam Observed (1968), now a classic, concluded that Morocco’s king used his descent from Muhammad to evoke the same respect that Sufi shaykhs do, which, perceived as charisma, could provoke rivalry from other marabouts (shaykhs) but could also help unify people when the king is seen as the chief marabout.37 No one would depict the five Muslim majority states surveyed here as fully developed democracies or even claim that their democracies are consolidated. They remain fragile. Yet the mere fact that these five countries outrank all other Muslim majority states on the Index, so far, invites more analysis of factors that may support or challenge this chapter’s hypothesis. The fact that other Muslim majority states rank toward the very bottom of the index does raise questions about what fails to nurture democracy in these contexts. The cases of Turkey, Egypt and Pakistan suggest that Sufi political activism alone is insufficient to help consolidate democracy; the role of other factors are absent.

References Abdul Hamid, Ahmad Fauzi. 2013. The Challenge of Religious Pluralism in Malaysia with Special Reference to the Sufi Thought of Ustaz Ashaari Muhammad. Comparative Islamic Studies 9 (1): 9–40.

 Clifford Geertz, Islam Observed: Religious Developments in Morocco and Indonesia (New haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1968).

37

236

C. Bennett

Arapi, Lindita. 2017. Interfaith Dialogue in Albania. Trans. Jennifer Taylor. Welle/Qantara.de. https://en.qantara.de/content/interfaith-­dialogue-­in-­albania-­loving-­their-­neighbours. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Bennett, Clinton. 2005. Muslims and Modernity: An Introduction to the issues and debates. London: Continuum. ———. 2018. Syncretistic Sufi Gnosticism in South and South East Asia. In The Gnostic World, ed. Garry W. Trompf, Gunner B. Mikkelsen, and Jay Johnston, 595–602. Abingdon: Routledge. ———. Sufis, Saints and Politics in Islam: An Historical Survey. In Sufism, Pluralism and Democracy, ed. Clinton Bennett and Sarwar Alam, 53–70. Sheffield: Equinox. Declaration of Religious Communities in Albania. 2018. March 05. http://orthodoxalbania.org/alb/ index.php/en-­us/lajme-­3/blog/4717-­declaration-­of-­religious-­communities-­in-­albania-­joint-­ engagement-­for-­interfaith-­dialogue-­3-­5-­2018#. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Democracy Index 2017. 2018. Free Speech Under Attack. London, EIU. Diouf, Mamadou. 2013. Introduction: The Public Role of ‘The Good: Sufi Islam and the Administration of Pluralism. In Tolerance, Democracy, and Sufis in Senegal, ed. Mamadou Diouf, 1–35. New York: Columbia University Press. Elhachmi Hamdi, Mohamed. 1996. Islam and Liberal Democracy: The Limits of the Western Model. Journal of Democracy 7 (2): 81–85. Freedom in the World 2018. 2018. Democracy in Crisis. Washington, DC: Freedom House. Gatling, Benjamin Clark. 2012. Post-Soviet Sufism: Texts and the Performance of Tradition in Tajikistan. Unpublished PhD dissertation, Ohio State University. https://etd.ohiolink.edu/!etd. send_file?accession=osu1345143093&disposition=inline. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Geertz, Clifford. 1968. Islam Observed: Religious Developments in Morocco and Indonesia. New Haven: Yale University Press. Ghamni, Lamine. 2016. In Tunisia, Sufism is Here to Stay. Arab Weekly. December 02. https:// thearabweekly.com/tunisia-­sufism-­here-­stay. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Human Rights Watch. 2018. Tajikistan country report. https://www.hrw.org/world-­report/2010/ country-­chapters/Tajikistan. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Khan, Muqtedar M.A. 2009. Islamic Governance and Democracy. In Islam and Democratization in Asia, ed. Shiping Hua, 13–27. Amherst: Cambria. Luck, Taylor. 2018. How Tunisia’s Resilient Sufis have Withstood Hardline Islamist Attack. Christian Science Monitor. March 11. https://www.csmonitor.com/World/Middle-­ East/2018/0307/How-­Tunisia-­s-­resilient-­Sufis-­have-­withstood-­hard-­line-­Islamist-­attack. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Pew Research. 2018. Religious Identity Among Muslims, Q32. http://www.pewforum. org/2012/08/09/the-­worlds-­muslims-­unity-­and-­diversity-­1-­religious-­affiliation/. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Pinto, Paulo G. 2006. Sufism, Moral Performance and the Public Sphere in Syria. Revue des Mondes Musulmans et de la Méditerranée 115–116: 155–171. Quist-Arcton, Ofeiba. 2013. In Conflict Torn Africa, Senegal Shows a Way to Religious Harmony. NPR Africa, December 28. https://www.npr.org/2013/12/28/257822199/in-­conflict-­torn-­ africa-­senegal-­shows-­a-­way-­to-­religious-­harmony. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Reuters World News. 2017. Malaysia’s Royals Call for Religious Tolerance in Rare Pubic Intervention. October 10. https://www.reuters.com/article/us-­malaysia-­politics/malaysias-­ royals-­call-­for-­religious-­tolerance-­in-­rare-­public-­intervention-­idUSKBN1CF272. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Reuters. 2018. Jews and Muslims Celebrate Unusual Coexistence in Tunisia’s Djerba. May 16. https://www.haaretz.com/jewish/MAGAZINE-­jews-­and-­muslims-­celebrate-­unusual-­ coexistence-­in-­tunisia-­s-­djerba-­1.6094484. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Ridgeon, Lloyd, ed. 2015. Sufis and Salafists in the Contemporary Age. London: Bloomsbury. Shoebat, Walid. 2015. Shocking: How Muslims are Now Declaring Erdogan as a God. Shoebat. com. http://shoebat.org/2015/03/30/shocking-­muslims-­are-­now-­declaring-­erdogan-­as-­god/. Accessed 30 Oct 2018.

13  Sufism and Politics

237

Svante, Cornell E. 2016. The Naqshbandi Khalidi Order and Political Islam in Turkey. The Hudson Institut. September 3. https://www.hudson.org/research/11601-­the-­naqshbandi-­khalidi-­order-­ and-­political-­islam-­in-­turkey. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Uguccioni, Christina. 2018. Tunisia, Christians and Muslims Live in Peace in Ain Draham. Vatican Insider World News. May 31. https://www.lastampa.it/2018/05/31/vaticaninsider/tunisia-­ christians-­and-­muslims-­live-­in-­peace-­in-­ain-­draham-­6StbXKqF8xaUXOscZZHyAJ/pagina. html. Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Vrugtman, Leonie. 2018. Albania’s religious harmony endures in the face of new challenges. Global Risks Insiight. May 11. https://globalriskinsights.com/2018/05/interfaith-­co-­existence-­ albania-­remains-­strong-­face-­new-­challenges/ Accessed 30 Oct 2018. Zayat, Iman. 2016. Tunisia tops Arab women’s representation in Parliament. Arab Weekly. September 25. https://thearabweekly.com/tunisia-­tops-­arab-­womens-­representation-­ parliament. Accessed 30 Oct 2018.

Chapter 14

Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes? Anthony Booth

Abstract  In this chapter, I argue that there is an important structural similarity between the Liberal Pluralism of John Rawls’ Theory of Justice and (a very broad ‘Modernist’ construal of) Political Islam. This structural similarity, so I argue, showcases an important problem concerning what I call higher-order disagreement – a problem that plagues Rawls’ early version of Liberal Pluralism, a Liberalist understanding of Political Islam, as well as Rawls’ “later” political conception of Liberal Pluralism. I end by suggesting how Medieval Islamic Philosophy (as articulated by al-Farabi, especially) may have given us the intellectual resources to solve this issue and towards articulating a “perfectionist” conception of Liberalism that is true to what the later Rawls calls “the fact of reasonable pluralism.” In short, then, it is from Islamic Philosophy where we can find the resources for fixing some of the conceptual problems with pluralism in the Rawlsian tradition. Keywords  Islamic philosophy · Political Islam · Political liberalism · John Rawls · al-Fārābī

14.1  Introduction In this chapter, I explore what look to be similarities between the Liberal Pluralism of John Rawls’ Theory of Justice and (a very broadly ‘Modernist’ construal of) Political Islam. Seeing where there may be points of confluence between the two may help us with how to conceive of a pluralistically inclined Political Islam (where the latter is usually presented as at odds with pluralism). The putative similarities I wish to address are that on both Rawls’ Theory of Justice and on many accounts of A. Booth (*) University of Sussex, Brighton, UK e-mail: [email protected] © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5_14

239

240

A. Booth

Political Islam: (i) rational agents, under certain idealised conditions, will come to choose a political structure that aims to guarantee both freedom of expression and freedom of belief; (ii) there will be limitations to those freedoms that the rationally chosen political structure will also oversee; and (iii) those limits are to be understood as protections to the very possibility of the freedoms being implemented. However, I wish to argue that these similarities do not really showcase an accord between Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam, but rather illustrate a problem with Liberalism (as a form of pluralism) per se – that is, both for Political Islam as a form of pluralism and Liberalism as a form of pluralism. First, because they illustrate how a(n even rational) preference for freedom of expression and belief constitutes a “conception of the good” that was supposed to have been left behind Rawls’ famous ‘veil of ignorance’. Second, because they illustrate how Liberalism (a theory apparently made for settling disputes by embracing a kind of pluralism) has trouble with how to settle disputes involving second-order disagreement: in this case, disagreements as to whether specific instances really are limiting cases (whether a specific speech act really is a piece of ‘hate speech’, for instance). Rawls in part seems to come to accept these criticisms, and it perhaps can partly explain why in his later work – notably his 1993 Political Liberalism – he comes to characterise the doctrine defended in Theory of Justice (‘Justice as Fairness ‘) as what he calls a ‘comprehensive doctrine’. And as such, he thinks it is incompatible with a brute fact about political life: that we can rationally disagree – what Rawls calls ‘the fact of reasonable pluralism.’ Rawls’ solution in this later work is to appeal to the notion of an ‘overlapping consensus’ of reasonable doctrines, and thus of a distinctively political (not ‘metaphysical’) account of the theory. I will argue, however, that it is because he cannot fully abandon epistemic constraints on the notion of reasonability, Rawls’ later restatement of a specifically Political Liberalism is doomed to face the very same issues that confronted Justice as Fairness, albeit in a reformulated way. It is here that the Islamic Political Philosophers (especially al-Farabi) can help us out of the impasse. For al-Farabi very explicitly constructs a political philosophy from a sophisticated epistemology and account of epistemic reasonability – wherein the ‘fact of reasonable pluralism’ can be made sense of. Al-Farabi then may be able to offer us the keys on how to conceive of a Liberalism that is: true to the fact of reasonable disagreement, and be a ‘metaphysical’ account (such as to obviate the possibility that it may make us ‘hostage to the demands of the unjust’1). In short, it is from Islamic philosophy where we can find the resources to fixing some of the conceptual problems with pluralism in the Rawlsian tradition. I note that these ends are very ambitious for a brief chapter. My aim here is then to give you the broad outline of how I want to defend this thesis. In section one, I discuss the strong structural similarities between the Modernist conception of Political Islam and Rawls’ thesis of Justice as Fairness, arguing that these similarities end up showcasing a problem with Liberal Pluralism per se. Then, in

 Jonathan Quong, Liberalism without Perfection (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 162.

1

14  Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes?

241

section two, I argue that Rawls’ later reformulation of Liberalism is vulnerable to the same fundamental problem discussed in the introduction. I do this with the help of some material from Medieval Islamic Philosophy, raising issues as to the adequacy of Rawls’ underlying account of political legitimacy, in its demand for consent at the exclusion of belief (and its attendant aspiration to ultimately being a practical notion divorced from epistemological, or metaphysical concerns). I end, in section three, by suggesting how, through Medieval Islamic Philosophy, we can sensibly articulate a perfectionist kind of Liberalism that is nonetheless true to “the fact of reasonable pluralism.” If we are to re-conceive of Political Islam in a way that makes it at home with pluralism, we should not be blind to the problems that other versions of pluralism have faced. The hope is that this investigation will give us the keys to how to conceive of a pluralistic vision of Political Islam that is an improvement on at least one of the major versions of pluralism in the last two centuries.

14.2  T  he Modernist Conception of Political Islam and Justice as Fairness One of the most famous ideas to come out of Rawls’ Theory of Justice is the ‘original position’ thought experiment. The idea, roughly, that to determine how a just society should be organised, we need to imagine asking ourselves this question from an original position [where we do not know how our lives will pan out] and behind a ‘veil of ignorance’ [where our conception of the good – our religion, say – and contingent features of ourselves such as our race and gender are occulted from us]. According to Rawls, rational people (‘rational’ is to be thought of in terms of instrumental rationality here) honestly performing the experiment will all choose the doctrine of Justice as Fairness. One of the most central tenets of the doctrine of Justice as Fairness is the idea that in a just society freedom of belief and freedom of speech are rights that are guaranteed, and are inviolable – famously the book begins with: ‘Each person possesses an inviolability founded on justice that even the welfare of society cannot override.’ The idea here is that – given certain Pareto uncertainty principles – you would not – rationally – be prepared to gamble behind the veil of ignorance on the possibility of living in a society where you could not be who you are (freedom of belief) or live in a society where you could not express who you are (freedom of speech).2

2  Famously, we are also meant to choose certain principles of social justice (e.g. Rawls’ famous “difference principle”). This may be a further point where Rawls’ conception of justice may be lined to a classical Islamic one; as Hashas puts it: “European Islam seeks and defends social justice, which is originally a classical “Islamic” value that correlates with the idea of justice in Rawls’ work.” Mohammed Hashas, The Idea of a European Islam: Religion, Ethics, and Perpetual Modernity (London and New York: Routledge, 2019), 21.

242

A. Booth

In the Modernist view of a Political Islam, too, we get the idea that because it is a religion that appeals to reason, it must mandate freedom of belief. The Modernist movement, of course, was instigated in the late nineteenth century by thinkers such as Jalal al-Din al-Afghani. Its central mission, to put it concisely, was to modernise the Islamic world by having it return to a rationalist past, and so recover the thought of, for instance, the classical movement of Islamic Philosophy (Falsafa) and to Mu’tazalite (rational) theology.3 The ‘rationalist’ thought being  – roughly  – that Islamic beliefs are true beliefs, representing the world as it really is, and so must be arrived at through rational means (via free reflection and consideration of the evidence). The right to freedom of belief then is, like in Rawls, something that is demanded by the demands of rationality.4 This is underscored by the famous verse in the Qur’an that tells us that: ‘There is no compulsion in religion’ (Qur’an 2:256). Maybe surprisingly we see this affirmed even by writers that are supposedly at the more “radical” end of the Modernist reform movement, such as Sayyid Qutb5: It is not the intention of Islam to force its beliefs on people, but Islam is not merely ‘belief.’ As we have pointed out, Islam is a declaration of the freedom of man from servitude to other men. Thus it strives from the beginning to abolish all those systems and governments which are based on the rule of man over men and the servitude of one human being to another. When Islam releases people from this political pressure and presents to them its spiritual message, appealing to their reason, it gives them complete freedom to accept or not to accept its beliefs…in an Islamic system there is room for all kinds of people to follow their own beliefs, while obeying the laws of the country which are themselves based on the Divine authority.6

3  For a useful account of the thought of the two central, founding figures of the Modernist movement see Elie Kedourie Afghani and ‘Abduh: And Essay on Religious Unbelief and Political Activism in Modern Islam, 2nd ed. (New York: Routledge, 2008). 4  “The modernist-apologists Islamized modernity as a means to make the case for the feasibility and desirability of an Islamic revelation-based society that was guided by reason and freedom no less, and in fact more, than the doubt-based West. The modernist-apologists Islamized modernity as a means of making a case for the possibility of modernizing Muslim societies without relinquishing revelation as the foundation of the mind and of social life. They argued that whereas Christianity is an irrational faith, the truths of Islam can and must be ascertained through reason, and thus embracing them is not a matter of blindly adhering to traditional metaphysical beliefs, but of abiding by the dictates of logical thinking. They further argued that whereas Christianity is hostile to science and to freedom, Islam encourages and protects both…” Uriya Shavit, Scientific and Political Freedom in Islam: A Critical Reading of the Modernist-Apologetic School (New York: Routledge, 2017), 11. See also Abdullah Saeed and Hassan Saeed, Freedom of Religion, Apostacy, and Islam (Farnham, Ashgate, 2004). 5  I do not wish to claim that Qutb is paradigmatic of the Modernist reform movement or the figure to turn to for a pluralistic conception of Islam (as I mention he is usually considered to be an exclusivist). But I think that something important is learnt when we see that we see parallels even in Qutb between Political Islam and the early Rawls. See also Andrew F. March, The Caliphate of Man: Popular Sovereignty in Modern Islamic Thought (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2019) and Sayed Khatab, The Power of Sovereignty: The Political and Ideological Philosophy of Sayyid Qutb (New York, Routledge, 2006). 6  Sayyid Qutb, Milestones [1964] (London: Islamic Book Service, 2006), 61.

14  Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes?

243

Of course, one of the most standing issues with the idea of rights of freedom of speech and freedom of belief has to do with whether there are any limitations on them, and, if so, how one can give any principled account of their limitations. Rawls addresses this issue in sections 33, 34 of Theory of Justice where he claims: ...while an intolerant sect does not itself have title to complain of intolerance, its freedom should be restricted only when the tolerant sincerely and with reason believe that their own security and that of the institutions of liberty are in danger.7 Liberty of conscience is limited, everyone agrees, by the common interest in public order and security.8

The underlying idea here, going on Kantian lines, is that if the very possibility of the freedoms of belief and speech is put under threat by the granting of those freedoms to any given speech acts or belief, then those speech acts or beliefs lie outside of the protection of these fundamental human rights. And we see this idea defended also in Qutb: “There can be no decent life if every individual seeks to enjoy his absolute freedom without limit. Such behaviour is guaranteed to destroy both the society and the very individuals.”9 It is perhaps not so surprising then that several of the Muslim “Modernists” saw such a striking similarity between their version of Political Islam and ‘Western’ Liberalism. Rawls claims in part that his theory is meant to be a reflection of what the ‘West’ (and in particular North Americans) already took Modern Liberalism to be (this is similar to his endorsed methodological commitment to ‘reflective equilibrium’). And so one can see how part of the Muslim Modernist discourse (especially given the actual historical direction of travel of Aristotle to Western Europe via Averroes) could then develop as such, reclaiming or recovering something that had been stolen or lost: We, post-Averroes Arabs, have lived on clinging to the Avicennan moment after Ghazali granted it currency within “Islam.” As for Europeans, they went on to live the very history that we had exited, because they knew how to appropriate Averroes and how to keep living the Averroes moment to this day.10

Muhammed ‘Abduh is reported to have famously proclaimed: “I went to the West and say Islam but no Muslims; I travelled back East and saw Muslims but no Islam.”11 The tacit premise here is that the word ‘Islam’ extensionally (not intensionally) denotes ‘a political system that guarantees human rights’, such that Islam  John Rawls, A Theory of Justice (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1971), 193.  Ibid, 186. 9  Sayyid Qutb, In the Shade of the Qur’an (Fi Zilal al-Qur’an), Vol. II., trans. Adil Salahi (Markfield: The Islamic Foundation, 2015). 10  Mohammed Abed al-Jabri, Arab-Islamic Philosophy: A Contemporary Critique, trans. Aziz Abbasi (Austin: The University of Texas Press, 1996), 124. 11  In 1888 on having returned from France, reported here: Ahmed Hasan, “Democracy, Religion and Moral Values: A Road Map Toward Political Transformation in Egypt”, Foreign Policy, July 2nd, 2011, https://www.foreignpolicyjournal.com/2011/07/02/democracy-religion-and-moralvalues-a-road-map-toward-political-transformation-in-egypt/ (Accessed 15 July 2020). 7 8

244

A. Booth

is extensionally equivalent to what Rawls called ‘Justice as Fairness’, at least in broad outline.12 But Justice as Fairness was supposed to be a secular idea, neutral as regards one’s conception of the good or any comprehensive doctrine. And so the comparison between Justice as Fairness and Political Islam neatly illustrates why the later Rawls may have come to view the former as a comprehensive doctrine. Further, if there is still to be a confrontation between a Political Islam and Modern Liberalism it would then involve second-order disagreement. Here, “second-­order disagreement”, broadly speaking, concerns our standards of appraisal and not so much our first-order evidence  – e.g. it is disagreement about how to weigh bits of evidence against each other, or how much evidence is required to reach the threshold of whether it should be regarded as “enough” to mandate full belief instead of suspension of judgement). Consider Qutb again: Society has a higher interest which must limit the freedom of the individual, and it is in the individual’s own interest to have definite limits to his enjoyment of freedom so that he does not get carried away by his instincts, desires, and pleasures to the point of destruction, and also so that his freedom does not clash with the freedom of others, resulting in endless quarrels, turning freedom into a torment and a hell, and arresting the growth and perfection of life in the interests of a shortsighted individualism. This is what has happened with the “freedom” of the capitalist system.13

Qutb here looks to be disagreeing not with the idea that there should be freedoms, but that they have limits, nor with the idea that the US does not see that they must have limits, rather the criticism is that the West has failed to identify genuine limiting cases as limiting cases – the West has failed to weight the evidence correctly. But neither Justice as Fairness, nor a Political Islam conceived of a version of Justice as Fairness can itself resolve this sort of second-order disagreement about what constitutes a genuine limiting case – this is a simple corollary of the fact that both agree that there are both limits to freedom of speech and what those limits are; nonetheless, the two are paradigmatically conveyed as if to be in a confrontation about those very matters. Put differently, if one’s pluralism extends to cases where there are reasonable second-order disagreements, one admits of having less than the full facts of the matter about what are the limitations to one’s pluralism. Yet, the absence of such facts of the matter threatens to render one’s pluralism “hostage to the demands of the unjust” and so to ultimately undermine one’s pluralism. This may partly explain why the later Rawls himself came to think that Justice as Fairness is incompatible with the fact of reasonable pluralism/ the possibility of rational disagreement.14 In order to be reasonable, citizens, according to the later Rawls, need to accept what he calls “the burdens of judgement.”15 Here we get an explicit  See also Joseph A. Massad, Islam in Liberalism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015).  Qutb, In the Shade of the Qur’an, Vol. II. 14  Cf. Rik Peels and Anthony Booth, “Why Responsible Belief is Permissible Belief” Analytic Philosophy 55:1 (2014), 198–207, for an account of how reasonable disagreement is always made possible by appeal to higher-order disagreement (aka a defence of ‘epistemic permissibility’). 15  John Rawls, Political Liberalism, expanded edition (New York: Columbia University Press, 2005), 56–58. 12 13

14  Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes?

245

acknowledgement of the issue of second-order disagreement I have just been highlighting: “Even where we agree fully about the kinds of considerations that are relevant, we may disagree about their weight, and so arrive at different judgements.”16 I take it here, surely un-controversially, that assigning weight is a second-order concern, and so disagreements about weight are going to be second-order disagreements (like the disagreement between Qutb and “Western” Liberalism).17 I now move to evaluate the extent to which Rawls’ restatement of Political Liberalism can adequately deal with this problem.

14.3  R  awls’ Conception of Reasonability and Political Legitimacy in Medieval Islamic Philosophy In Political Liberalism Rawls introduces the notion of an ‘overlapping consensus’ of reasonable doctrines and thus to a distinctively political (not ‘metaphysical’) account of Liberalism. This account of Liberalism, unlike his earlier account, is explicitly meant to be compatible with the idea that some disagreements (especially those involving second-order disagreement, as those discussed in the preceding section) may be intractable. As ever with Rawls, the theory is a highly detailed one; but at its heart is a distinction between ‘rationality’ and ‘reasonableness’, and an appeal to the latter as the operative notion within his reformulated political Liberalism – we are to understand the justification of political Liberalism using the normative notion of reasonableness and not rationality. In Political Liberalism Rawls lists the following five criteria for his notion of the reasonable, such that a subject S is reasonable just in case: (ii) S is both responsive to moral reasons (has “the capacity for a sense of justice and the capacity for a conception of the good”) and to epistemic reasons (so has “the intellectual powers of judgement, thought, and inference”). (iii) S is willing to propose terms of co-operation that others are likely to endorse (and is willing to abide by them so long as this is reciprocal). (iv) S is able to recognise that there can be rational disagreement (S is able to recognise the “burdens of judgement”). Thus a subject who does not accept rational disagreement is not reasonable.  Rawls Political Liberalism, 56.  Rawls does mention a number of other reasons to accept the “burdens of judgement” including that “evidence – empirical and scientific – bearing on [a given] case is conflicting and complex, and this hard to assess and evaluate” and “to some extent (how great we cannot tell) the way we assess evidence and weigh moral and political values is shaped by our total experience, our whole course of life up to now; and our total experiences must always differ” (Rawls, Political Liberalism, 56–57). In my view, though I do not have the space to argue for this claim here, none of the reasons he lists here are fully independent from the problem of second-order disagreement, such that if the latter were not a problem there would be no reason to accept what Rawls calls “the burdens of judgement”.

16 17

246

A. Booth

(v) S is a “normal, fully cooperating” member of society and wants to be regarded as such (“this supports their self-respect as citizens”). (vi) S – in virtue of satisfying the above – has developed a concomitantly reasonable moral psychology: S instinctively trusts other reasonable citizens; S ­naturally wishes to do their part in a co-operative reasonable set of political arrangements; S has the intellectual capacity to develop conceptions of justice and fairness.18 Of central importance here then is that reasonableness for Rawls necessarily involves didactic co-operation between agents (as per (ii) above) – it is impossible for S to be reasonable without having interacted at all with other agents (hence why his approach to political justification is sometimes referred to as a “public reason” approach). This makes the notion of reasonableness decidedly overall a non-­ epistemic notion – its criteria for success is practical (effectively what Rawls calls ‘stability’ toward the ultimate end of achieving a ‘well-ordered society’) even though it may contain certain epistemic components (as per the ability to recognise the fact that there can be rational disagreement). And it is ultimately because reasonability has non-epistemic success conditions that Rawls can say that his theory is not ‘metaphysical’ and so political, since the underlying normative notion of justification is a non-epistemic one. That is, we do not accept this conception because we take it to be independently the most likely to be true (compared with other conceptions), but rather we come to accept it because, ultimately, our accepting it (together with the accepting it of others) will lead to a well-ordered society. As Martha Nussbaum has recently argued, if Rawls’ notion of reasonability were not a non-epistemic notion, then his newest version of political Liberalism would effectively collapse into a Perfectionist Liberalism (more akin, perhaps, to his earlier theory). It is this worry that makes her concerned about the epistemic criteria within his overall definition of reasonability, “The theoretical [epistemic] criteria raise some troublesome questions. As we shall see, they carry Rawls uncomfortably close to the Raz/Berlin position, adding an unnecessary element, or at least risk, of perfectionism to Rawls’s view.”19 It is also worth highlighting here that since the notion of reasonability is practical, reasonable citizens end up accepting reasonable doctrines. The implicit assumption here is that belief is not (at least typically, or in any straightforward way) sensitive to practical reasons. I think there are at least two major problems with Rawls’ view about reasonability. The first is that if reasonability for Rawls is a non-epistemic/social notion, then it looks like the doctrines eligible for overlapping consensus are not strictly going to be believed by the relevant participants, as I have just mentioned. Rather, the latter must merely come to accept (where acceptance is not belief) these doctrines. Thus one could legitimately worry whether the emerging ‘overlapping’ consensus between reasonable doctrines will be in any sense a true reflection of the beliefs of  Rawls, Political Liberalism, 81–86.  Martha Nussbaum, “Perfectionist Liberalism and Political Liberalism,” Philosophy and Public Affairs 39:1 (2011), 9.

18 19

14  Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes?

247

those who hold those doctrines (not merely because some items of their doctrine will not overlap, but because even where they overlap, they may not be a true reflection of belief). I think this has important, un-salutary repercussions concerning the question of whether this reformulation of Liberalism could even in principle have political legitimacy.20 “Public Reason” conceptions of political legitimacy –which seem popular today  – are keen to highlight voluntary consent (where consent is going to be some sort of an action) as the underlying notion through which to understand political legitimacy (“public” because it involves something like Rawls’ notion of reasonability, a social notion). Not many theorists today (though perhaps with the exception of Fabienne Peter) give much weight to the notion of belief as grounding political legitimacy – partly, I suspect, as a result of Rawls’ emphasis on not giving a metaphysical conception of justice, alongside the current un-popularity of so-called ‘ideal’ political theorising (which focuses on justice, say, rather than legitimacy, which is then conceived to be a non-ideal concept21). However, if there is a notion of political legitimacy to be found in Medieval Islamic Philosophy it is one where belief plays centre stage. In Ibn Rushd’s commentary on Plato’s Republic, for example, we find an explicit reference to the idea that a city whose inhabitants are virtuous in actions alone, and not in belief, will not be the most fully virtuous city: “Their [sc., these cities’] inclining will be of two kinds at once – i.e., in their deeds and [in] their beliefs… The cities that are virtuous in deeds alone are those called aristocratic.”22 It is precisely for this reason that for Ibn Rushd we need mythologies and religion to get the masses to believe what they would, otherwise they would be unable to believe (this is crucial in my interpretation23 of all of Medieval Islamic Philosophy): Untrue stories are necessary for the teaching of the citizens. No bringer of a nomos is to be found who does not make use of invented stories, for this is something necessary for the multitude to reach their happiness.24 In teaching wisdom to the multitude he [Plato] used the rhetorical and poetical ways because they [sc., the multitude] are in two situations: either they can know them [sc., the speculative truths] through demonstrative arguments, or they will not know them at all. The first [situation] is impossible [for the multitude]. The second is possible – since it is fitting that everyone obtain as much of human perfection as is compatible with what is in his nature to obtain of this and with his preparation for it.25

 Finlayson, however, takes this feature to make Rawls’ account invulnerable to the familiar criticism from Quong I mentioned earlier; James Gordon Finlayson, The Habermas-Rawls Debate (New York: Columbia University Press, 2019). 21  Though this thought is obviously circular: legitimacy is a non-ideal condition because legitimacy is about consent, not belief. 22  Ralph Lerner. Averroes on Plato’s Republic (Translated, with an Introduction and notes by Ralph Lerner) (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1974), 79, 1–8. 23  Anthony Booth, Islamic Philosophy and the Ethics of Belief (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016). 24  Lerner, Averroes on Plato’s Republic: 30.22–32.22. 25  Ibid, 25.14–23. 20

248

A. Booth

The idea behind these remarks, I think, is that only an epistemic elite will have the cognitive capacities to use theoretical reason well enough to acquire the best kind of knowledge (yielded by demonstrative proof, following Aristotelian syllogism). The most virtuous city will be run according to the latter, which may include knowledge about human nature, but will have to be in a sense autocratic (so ‘aristocratic’) if its inhabitants only act in accordance with rules based on this knowledge, and do not themselves have the knowledge themselves. I do not think it is too much of a stretch then to interpret Ibn Rushd here as complaining that a political regime whose legitimacy was based solely on people compliance with respect to actions (and so not on beliefs) would be deficient on democratic grounds. Thus the need for Platonic “noble lies”, “invented stories”, allegories that approximate the truth in such a way that the truth is then believed by “the multitude.” Different epistemic standards then apply to the epistemic elite, and the epistemic non-elite (I have called this view ‘Islamic Moderate Evidentialism’ in Islamic Philosophy and the Ethics of Belief).26 If this is correct then it looks like the view of political legitimacy espoused in Medieval Islamic Philosophy is more like that found in Joseph Raz’s Perfectionist Liberalism,27 than Rawls’s Political Liberalism.28 Raz’s view, roughly stated, is that political power is legitimate just in case it enforces measures that have as an aim the ensuring (of making it more likely to be the case) that citizens will behave in line with reasons that apply to them anyway, regardless of whether that state exists. The underlying idea is simply that there are reasons, and a political authority is legitimate when it gets us to better comply with those reasons than had the authority not existed. It seems quite natural to include among the objects to be evaluated, not just citizens’ behaviours, but citizens’ beliefs, such that the relevant reasons for political authority are also epistemic reasons. For instance, on this view, teachers have legitimate authority over their students in the context of a class because were they not to have the authority they do the students would not come to know (comply with epistemic reasons) as much as they would while the authority is in place. The view, when applied to beliefs, then looks equivalent to Islamic Moderate Evidentialism, and its attendant view on political legitimacy: a political regime rules over a fully virtuous city (i.e. is legitimate) only if it ensures that its citizens have beliefs they have independent reason to believe (since they are true) [and does so via the effective use of allegory and religion].29 Be that as it may, however, it seems to me that

 For an articulation of the opposing anti-evidentialist view as found in al-Ghazali, see Zain Ali, Faith, Philosophy and the Reflective Muslim (New York: Palgrave, 2013). 27  Joseph Raz, A Morality of Freedom (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986). 28  Indeed, as Nussbaum notes, many objectors to Raz’s view dislike it precisely on the grounds that it ends up looking like a form of religion: “It is because many people think that Raz’s sort of comprehensive liberalism is the only viable form of liberalism that they also think that liberalism is not neutral about the good life, but is a form of religion in its own right.” Nussbaum, “Perfectionist Liberalism and Political Liberalism,” 2011, 35. 29  See Hashas, The idea of European Islam, 2019, for an account of how an Islamic political conception of justice may be considered a reasonable comprehensive doctrine and so up for consideration as a doctrine worthy of overlapping consensus. 26

14  Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes?

249

the Medieval Islamic Philosophers did make a good point, if their point was to worry about whether political legitimacy can be only about consent, and can fail to be also about belief. If the who that we are is at least partly constituted by our beliefs are well as our actions surely a state or political regime fails to represent us when it fails to represent our beliefs, even if we have consented to its having political authority. A second more obvious problem with Rawls’ re-formulation of Liberalism, in my eyes, has to do with the fact that Rawls could not possibly have done away with any epistemic constraint on his notion of reasonability. If the criterion for adequacy is going to have something to do with stability then we had better know for any acceptance in doctrine X we are evaluating, whether acceptance of X will – in point of actual fact- accord with stability. But since there can clearly be rational disagreement about that, we have not obviated the issue of second-order disagreement that plagued Justice as Fairness simply by appealing to a political conception of Justice. Put differently, since we can rationally disagree about whether any person is reasonable (even when accepting Rawls’ criteria for reasonability) there is no ultimately non-arbitrary way of determining what are the doctrines worthy of being considered as doctrines with overlapping consensus – and this is the case even if we agree with Rawls’ criteria for reasonability. Therefore, ultimately, there can be no non-­arbitrary justification for any conception of justice. Rawls himself even seems to concede something close to this at times; as Finlayson puts it: Indeed, he allows that the focus or object of the overlapping consensus can be “a class of liberal conceptions that vary within a certain more or less narrow range.” And indeed, in the Second Introduction he allows that this family includes “different and incompatible political conceptions of justice” that are nonetheless reasonable, and that the question of which one is the most reasonable is a matter of reasonable disagreement.30

The point I am making here is that if Rawls is willing to concede that whichever of the doctrines within the overlapping consensus of reasonable doctrines is the most reasonable is a matter of disagreement he should also concede, on pain of inconsistency, that whichever doctrines are reasonable simpliciter can also be a matter of reasonable disagreement.

14.4  Medieval Islamic Philosophy to the Rescue What I think is ultimately the problem here is with the suppressed premise regarding what an epistemic account of reasonability looks like, and with its concomitant view of what knowledge amounts to. And it is here that Medieval Islamic Philosophy, and especially al-Farabi in this case, is of tremendous assistance. For let us start with the thought that in English the word ‘knowledge’ cannot be graded (and correlatively cannot come in plural formation): 30

 Finlayson, The Habermas-Rawls Debate, 2019, 27.

250

A. Booth

is a felicitous expression, where is not, and neither can we felicitously talk about ‘knowledges’ in English. This is interestingly not the case for the Arabic word ‘ilm (knowledge) which is gradable and correlatively can admit of plural formation (as per ‘ulūm). The important corollary is that someone – S1 – with evidence enough for epistemic justification can still be said to know as much as S2 even when S2 has had to meet much more exacting demands in order to have epistemic justification (so possesses better evidence). And al-Farabi’s epistemology (compared to Rawls’ tacit one) mirrors this difference, which as such is going to be much more amenable to a kind of fallibilism about knowledge than is the one centred on the English word for knowledge. In one essay in particular, The Conditions of Certainty, al-Farabi enumerates the grades of certainty one can have31  – with  – in my interpretation defended elsewhere  – the Prophet’s state of certainty forever out of reach of the ordinary person. The important implication being that for us ordinary humans we have to make do with an imperfect kind of knowledge – but that it is knowledge nevertheless, and accompanied with the correct level of certainty! This crucial insight, I believe, can underscore a ‘metaphysical’ conception of Liberalism (‘metaphysical’ in the Rawlsian sense) which builds-in from the start (so it is not an obstacle to) the possibility of reasonable disagreement, and will be one where the State will have less licence to be tyrannical about policing its limiting cases/its frontier. So what we get from Medieval Islamic Philosophy is a Perfectionist Liberalism which pays heed to Rawls’s burdens of judgement, and the fact of rational disagreement, while circumventing Rawls’ own attempts to account for how a theory of justice can nevertheless be justified where epistemic uncertainty rules. This is achieved not by inventing a new notion of political justification, of a different order from epistemic justification (as per the later Rawls), but by relaxing, and then indexing the demands of epistemic justification. To see this better, consider Fabienne Peter’s32 recently articulated objection to doxastic (“belief based”) accounts of political legitimacy, according to which a political regime X is legitimate just in case X actually bears some property Y which grounds its legitimacy– political legitimacy, on this kind of view, involves our “getting things right”, our having the right beliefs about who should govern, and on what basis. Peter’s complaint is simply that we can be in positions of epistemic uncertainty as to whether Y obtains (though she also thinks that Public Reason (or “will  He says, “Absolute certainty is: [1] to believe of something that it is thus or not this; [2] to agree that it corresponds and is not opposed to the existence of the thing externally; [3] to know that it corresponds to it; and [4] that it is not possible that it not correspond to it or that it be opposed to it; and, further [5] that there does not exist anything opposed to it at any time; and [6] and that all of this does not happen accidentally, but essentially.” Al-Farabi in Sharāʿiṭ al-Yaqīn; see Booth, Islamic Philosophy and the Ethics of Belief, op. cit, 2016, 43; see also, Rafiq Al-ʿAjam and Majid Fakhry, eds., Al-Manṭiq ʿInda al-Fārābī [Logic in the Work of al-Farabi], 4 vols. (Beirut: Dar alMachreq 1986). 32  Fabienne Peter, Political legitimacy under epistemic constraints: why public reasons matter, in Jack Knight and Melissa Schwartzberg, eds. Political Legitimacy, NOMOS LX (61) (New York: NYU Press, 2019), 147–173. 31

14  Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes?

251

based”) views are deficient as to the demand that we should “get it right”33). And, crucially, that these conditions of epistemic uncertainty are such that they are very likely to affect everyone  – including those wielding political power. Islamic Moderate Evidentialism seems to assume, however, that there is an epistemic elite that has absolute certainty over certain matters, even while for everyone else epistemic uncertainty prevails. Peter would then be right to question that assumption. Fortunately, however, Islamic Moderate Evidentialism makes no such assumption. As I have attempted to argue elsewhere,34 for al-Farabi only the Prophet can be completely certain (where certainty here is a normative notion, different from the psychological feeling of certainty). For everyone else then, including the epistemic elite, something short of evidence entailing full certainty will suffice for knowledge – for the non-elite less evidence than for the elite. If we operate under this epistemology (and not the tacit Rawlsian one where knowledge is an all or nothing affair) we can both pay deference to the fact that our epistemic conditions are less than perfect (as per Rawls’ “burdens of judgement”) but nonetheless hold that it is the right beliefs (judging by the standards of evidence, and not by the standards of practical reason) that underscore and ground legitimate political power. Al-Farabi’s political philosophy is extremely well known as a form of perfectionism – and he does in various works carefully delineate what he takes to be the ideal city state led by a Prophet Lawmaker.35 But it is often forgotten that this comes along an equally painstaking account of what the sub-ideal polities look like, closely mirroring his account of graded certainty in his epistemology.36 And it is here that we can find the unique combination of a perfectionist political theory sitting alongside, indeed informed by, reasonable pluralism. Thus by looking to Medieval Islamic Philosophy we may begin to find a way out of the problems that have plagued Rawlsian Pluralism, and I suggest that it is to it that one should turn if one is to re-imagine a Political Islam that is committed to a robust form of pluralism.

14.5  Conclusion To conclude, then, let me re-visit the question: Political Islam and Rawlsian Liberalism  – are they friends, or are they foes? My answer has been that at first blush, and when homing in on Justice as Fairness, they seem to be close friends.  This is a version, I think, of the Quongian objection with respect to public reason accounts making us vulnerable to the demands of the unjust. 34  Booth, Islamic Philosophy and The Ethics of Belief, 2016. 35  For his political writings see Charles Butterworth Alfarabi: The Political Writings. Trans. Charles Butterworth (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2011), and Charles Butterworth Alfarabi: The Political Writings, Volume II. Trans. Charles Butterworth (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2015). See also Mushin S. Mahdi, Alfarabi and the Foundation of Islamic Political Philosophy (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2001) for an excellent overview. 36  Though, for a noble exception, see Muhammed Ali Khalidi, Al-Fārābi on the Democratic City, British Journal for the History of Philosophy 11:3 (2003): 379–394. 33

252

A. Booth

But so close in fact that their closeness reveals the problematic nature of both accounts, namely that their structural closeness, but perceived distance, is exemplary of the issue of second-order disagreement, and so of what Rawls later called the “fact of reasonable pluralism.” However, when we begin to evaluate Rawls’ own response to the fact of reasonable pluralism, and consider some of its attendant problems, I think we can bring Islamic Medieval Philosophy37 and its concomitant epistemology (enmeshed in, and perhaps a product of, the Arabic language itself), to help us make progress. In that sense, then, my conclusion is that the two are good friends indeed! And how fitting will it seem to some people that a way forward for any kind of Liberalism is to be found by turning back?

References Al-Jabri, Mohammed Abed. 1996. Arab-Islamic Philosophy: A Contemporary Critique. Trans. Aziz Abbasi. Austin: The University of Texas Press. Al-ʿAjam, Rafiq and Majid Fakhry, eds. Al-Manṭiq ʿInda al-Fārābī [Logic in the Work of al-­ Farabi]. 4 Vols. Beirut: Dar al-Machreq. Ali, Zain. 2013. Faith, Philosophy and the Reflective Muslim. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Booth, Anthony. 2016. Islamic Philosophy and the Ethics of Belief. London: Palgrave Macmillan. ———. 2018. Analytic Islamic Philosophy. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Butterworth, Charles. 2001. Alfarabi: The Political Writings. Trans. Charles Butterworth. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. ———. 2015. Alfarabi: The Political Writings. Volume II.  Trans. Charles Butterworth. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Finlayson, James Gordon. 2019. The Habermas-Rawls Debate. New  York: Columbia University Press. Hasan, Ahmed. 2011. Democracy, Religion and Moral Values: A Road Map Toward Political Transformation in Egypt. Foreign Policy. July 2nd, https://www.foreignpolicyjournal. com/2011/07/02/democracy-­r eligion-­a nd-­m oral-­values-­a -­r oad-­m ap-­t oward-­p olitical-­ transformation-­in-­egypt. Accessed 15 July 2020. Hashas, Mohammed. 2019. The Idea of a European Islam: Religion, Ethics, and Perpetual Modernity. London/New York: Routledge. Kedourie, Elie. 2008. Afghani and ‘Abduh: An Essay on Religious Unbelief and Political Activism in Modern Islam. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge. Khalidi, Muhammad Ali. 2003. Al-Fārābi on the Democratic City. British Journal for the History of Philosophy. 11 (3): 379–394. Khatab, Sayed. 2006. The Power of Sovereignty: The Political and Ideological Philosophy of Sayyid Qutb. New York: Routledge. Lerner, Ralph. 1974. Averroes on Plato’s Republic. Translated, with an Introduction and notes by Ralph Lerner. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Mahdi, Mushin S. 2001. Alfarabi and the Foundation of Islamic Political Philosophy. Chicago: Chicago University Press.

37  As I have argued in Booth, Analytic Islamic Philosophy (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2018). I take Islamic medieval philosophy itself to be a precursor to Political Islam – though I think it was often also misunderstood by people working under the banner of ‘Modernism’ and by people at the more radical end such as Qutb.

14  Rawlsian Liberal Pluralism and Political Islam: Friends or Foes?

253

March, F. Andrew. 2019. The Caliphate of Man: Popular Sovereignty in Modern Islamic Thought. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Massad, A. Joseph. 2015. Islam in Liberalism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Nussbaum, Martha. 2011. Perfectionist Liberalism and Political Liberalism. Philosophy and Public Affairs 39 (1): 3–45. Peels, Rik, and Anthony Booth. 2014. Why Responsible Belief is Permissible Belief. Analytic Philosophy 55 (1): 198–207. Peter, Fabienne. 2019. Political Legitimacy Under Epistemic Constraints: Why Public Reasons Matter. In Political Legitimacy. NOMOS LX (61), ed. Jack Knight and Melissa Schwartzberg. New York: NYU Press. Quong, Jonathan. 2011. Liberalism Without Perfection. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Qutb, Sayyid. 2006. Milestones [1964]. London: Islamic Book Service. ———. 2015. In the Shade of the Qur’an (Fi Zilal al-Qur’an). Vol. II., trans. Adil Salahi. Markfield: The Islamic Foundation. Rawls, John. 1971. A Theory of Justice. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. ———. 2005. Political Liberalism. expanded ed. New York: Columbia University Press. Raz, Joseph. 1986. A Morality of Freedom. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Saeed, Abdullah, and Hassan Saeed. 2004. Freedom of Religion, Apostacy, and Islam. Farnham: Ashgate. Shavit, Uriya. 2017. Scientific and Political Freedom in Islam: A Critical Reading of the Modernist-­ Apologetic School. New York: Routledge.

Index

A Abbasid, 14, 18, 118, 121, 124, 211 ‘Abd al-Jabbār, 61, 69 Abderrahmane, Taha, 24 ‘Abduh, Muhammad, 20, 88, 94, 117, 122, 151, 158, 242, 243 Abdullah, Amin, 28, 29 Abrahamic, 4, 5, 43, 48, 49, 62, 136, 138, 145, 213 Abrogation, al-naskh, 26, 80–90, 94 Abū Hanīfa, 13 Abu Rabi‘, Ibrahim, 119 Abu Zayd, Nasr Hamid, 27, 94, 150–167 Afsaruddin, Asma, 25, 35–45, 120, 125 Aggiornamento, 27 Ahmadis, 29, 196 Ahmed, Akbar, 4 ‘Āisha, 79, 102, 103 Akbarzadeh, Shahram, 125 Akhbāris, 77 Akhtar, Shabbir, 27, 130–146 al-Afghānī, 122, 151, 242 al-ʿAjam, Rafiq, 250 al-Andalus, 5, 18, 119, 203 al-Ash‘arī, Abū al-Hassan, 5, 6, 70 al-Attar, Mariam, 25, 26, 59–71 al-Attas, Syed Muhammad Naguib, 210 al-Azmeh, Aziz, 126 al-Baghawi, al-Hussain b. al-Mas’ūd, 83 al-Baghdādī, ‘Abd al Qāhir, 6 al-Baghdādī, Ibn Isḥāq al-Warrāq, 4 See also Ibn al-Nadīm Al-Balādhūrī, 42 al-birr, 25, 40 al-Bīrūnī, 4

al-Buti, Ramadan, M. Sa`id, 58 al-Fārābī, 30, 240, 249–251 Al-Farq bayna al-firaq, 6 al-Faruqi, Isma‘il Raji, 119, 203, 205 Al-Faṣl fī al-milal wa al-ahwā’ wa al-niḥal, 5 al-Fihrist, 4, 211 al-Futūḥāt al-makkiyya, 13 Algeria, 118, 121, 152, 153 al-Ghazālī, Abū Ḥāmid, 61, 117 al-Ghazālī, Muḥammad, 119, 177 al-ḥaq, 10 ‘Ali b. Tālib, 90 See also Caliph ‘Ali ‘Ali 'Izz al-Dìn Ibn al-Athīr al-Jazarī, 91 al-Jabri, Mohammed Abed, 243 al-Juwaynī, 61 al-Khū’ī, al-Sayyid Abu al-Qāsim, 85, 86, 88, 94 al-kulliyāt al-khams, 70 Allam, Shawki, 47, 48 al-Manṣūr, 14 Al-Maqālāt fī usūl al-adyān, 4 Al-Milal wa al-niḥal, 4 al-Minqarī, Ibn-Muzahim, 103 al-Musawi, ash-Sharif ar-Radi Muhammad ibn al-Husain, 91 al-Na‘im, Abdullahi, 120 al-Nakha‘ī, Mālik al-Ashtar, 91 al-Qahtani, M. bin ‘Ali, 58 al-Qarāfī, 61 al-Qurtubi, Muhammad ibn Ahmad, 83, 88 al-Sa’idi, ‘Abdul-Muta’āl, 89 al-Salām, al-‘Izz bin ‘Abd, 61 al-Sayyid Abu al-Qāsim al-Khū’ī, 85

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 M. Hashas (ed.), Pluralism in Islamic Contexts - Ethics, Politics and Modern Challenges, Philosophy and Politics - Critical Explorations 16, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-66089-5

255

Index

256 al-Shahrastānī, Tāj al-Dīn Muhammad, 4 al-Shāṭibī, 71 al-Shawkānī, Muhammad b. Ali, 83 al-Sisi (Abdel Fattah), 29, 234 al-Suhrāwardī, 13 al-Sulaka, Sulayk b., 56 al-Suyūṭī, 14, 84, 89 al-ta‘āruf, 25, 36 al-Ṭabarī, Ibn Jarīr, 4, 36, 39, 79, 80, 211 al-Tabātabā’ī, 87, 88, 94 al-Tabātabā’ī, Allāmah as-Sayyid Muhammad Hussain, 86 al-Tabrasi, 82, 88, 94 al-Tahtawi, 121 al-Tahtawi, Rifa‘a, 118 al-tawḥīd/tawḥīd, 24, 28, 79, 123, 172–174, 177–187 al-Thaqafī al-Kūfī, Ibrahim ibn Muhammad, 92 al-Thaqafī, al-Ḥajjāj b. Yūsuf, 56, 92 al-Ṭūsī, 82, 86, 88, 94 al-Tūsī, Muhammad al-Hassan, 82 al-Tūsī, Nasīr ad-Dīn, 92 al-Ya‘qūbī, Ibn Wādih, 3 al-Zarkashī, 84 Amin, Ahmed, 100, 101 Anawati, G.C., 5 Andalusian, 2, 5 Andalusian co-existence, 25 Anderson, M.R., 139, 140 Anti-Islamic, 11, 12 Anti-nomian, 14 See also para-nomian and supra-nomian Arab, 2, 23, 24, 28, 42, 60, 83, 89, 104, 106, 116, 118–122, 131, 133, 135, 138, 139, 141, 143, 145, 154, 178, 190, 206, 213, 226, 229, 230, 243 Arab-Islamic civilization, 157 Arab Nationalism, 119 Arab Spring, 29, 229, 234 Arabian Gulf, 12 Arbitration, 26, 100, 106, 107, 109–112, 157 See also Taḥkīm Arkoun, Mohammed, 27, 150–167 ‘aṣabiyya, 124 Asad, Muhammad, 203, 205, 206, 208 Asad, Talal, 6, 30 Ash‘arite, 26, 68, 70, 71, 77, 92, 178 Askari, Seyed Hasan, 9, 206 Aslan, Adnan, 15–18, 177, 179, 209

Ateş, Suleyman, 28, 175 Auda, Jasser, 58 Authority, 27, 49, 55, 60, 66, 78, 88, 100, 106, 108–110, 117, 121, 124, 125, 142, 150–154, 157, 163, 181–184, 192, 207, 242, 248, 249 Aws, 44 B Badr ad-Dīn, 84 Baghdad, 42, 211 Balkans, 12 Balkans-to-Bengal Complex, 13 Barbarosoğlu, Fatma, 28, 174, 184 Barlas, Asma, 50, 51 Baso, Ahmad, 29, 195, 196 Bauer, T., 14, 15 Ben Badis, 122 Bennett, C., 29, 30, 145, 221 Berlin, I., 21, 64, 67, 246 Bible, 4, 130–133, 135, 136, 140, 142–144, 161 Booth, A., 30, 239–252 Browers, M., 150 Buddhism, 4, 29, 202, 210–218, 224 Bulliet, R., 43, 211 Butterworth, C., 251 Byzantines, 42, 106, 133 C Caliph ʿAbd al-Malik, 56 Caliph ‘Ali, 26, 100 Caliph Othman, 101 See also ʻUthmān ibn ‘Affān Caliph ‘Umar, 18 Carson, D.A., 174 Children of Israel, 135 Chinese, 29, 196, 228 Chirac, J., 153 Christian Abyssinia, 133 Christian-Muslim relations, 27, 140, 146, 191 Christians, 2, 39, 47, 61, 82, 116, 130, 150, 173, 191, 202, 224 Civil society, 27, 125, 126, 150, 156, 195, 197, 218 Clifford, W., 66 Communists, 29, 190, 196 Cosmopolitanism, 26, 27, 116–127 Cragg, K., 134–139 Crone, P., 125, 141 Cumulative tradition, 7, 8

Index D Daher, A., 60 Dalai Lama, 216 Daniel, N., 133 dār al-ḥarb, 120 dār al-Islām, 120 Darwaza, Muhammad ‘Izzat, 89 Dawisha, A., 119 Deism, 28, 176, 205 Democracy Index, 29, 221, 222, 226–233 Dhimma dhimmitude, 18, 26 Divine unity, 171–187 Djait, H., 101, 103, 106, 109 Duderija, Adis, 50 Dukkha (suffering), 29, 214–216 Düzgün, Şaban Ali, 28, 177, 180–186 E Eck, D.L., 61, 63, 76 Egypt, 29, 42, 47, 77, 79, 91, 92, 101, 104, 118, 121, 126, 152, 226, 229, 233–235, 243 Eickelman, D.F., 150 el-Affendi, Abdelwahab, 26, 100–113, 155 El-Aqqad, Abbas Mahmoud, 102 El-Fadl, Khaled Abou, 60, 125 Enayat, Hamid, 118 Ennahda, 229, 230 Epistemic, 19, 240, 244, 245, 248–250 Epistemological, 2, 11, 16, 21, 22, 66, 68, 82, 154–160, 163, 164, 166, 241 Epistemological pluralism, 22 Esack, F., 23, 206 Ethical relativism, 60, 67–68, 71 Ethical voluntarism, 68, 70 Exclusivism, 9, 23, 25, 40, 61, 63, 68, 76, 89, 173, 175, 202, 204, 206 Ex-Muslims, 130 Experiential ḥaqīqa, 14 Extra-religious epistemological framework, 27, 166 F Fadel, Mohammed, 58 fasād, 48 Ferdowsī, 13 Ferrara, Alessandro, 13 fiṭra, 18, 26, 49, 117, 163, 166, 179, 180, 205 Freedom House (FH), 221–224, 228, 230, 231, 233

257 G Galleotti, A.E., 18 Geertz, C., 235 Genealogies of pluralism, 26, 76–94 Georges Corm, G., 24 God centered, 20, 117, 183, 224 Gospel, 130, 132, 135, 136, 145, 174, 211 Greeks, xvi, 2, 4, 42, 59 H Hāfiẓ, 13 halakha, 16 Hallaq, Wael, 3, 15, 151 Hanafi, H., 77, 122, 123 Hārūn al-Rashīd, 42 Hasan al-Banna, 119 Hashas, Mohammed, 2–30, 64, 164, 241, 248 Hashmi, Sohail, 37 Hassan Saeed, 242 Hermansen, M.K., 62 Hick, J., 6, 9, 15, 16, 28, 61–63, 175, 179, 182, 209 Hinds, M., 125 Hindus, 4, 11, 18, 25, 43, 117, 191, 202, 211, 227, 234 Hodgson, M.G.S., 11, 125, 192, 212 Holland, T., 141 Honorary Christians, 10 Hourani, A., 122 Hourani, G.F., 60, 68, 122 Humanism, 9, 10, 28, 152, 153, 176, 204 Human plurality, 28, 181, 182 Human Rights Watch, 226 Husain, Taha, 107 I ‘ibādāt, 19, 60, 64 Ibn ‘Abbās, 82, 88, 102, 108, 110 Ibn ʿAbd Rabbih, 56 Ibn al-Nadīm, 4, 211 Ibn ‘Arabī, 13, 90 Ibn Ḥazm, 5 Ibn Hishām, 41, 44 Ibn Khaldūn, 124 Ibn Rushd, 30, 247, 248 Ibn Taymiyya, 92, 191 Idolatry, 25, 38, 48 iihad, 80, 118, 120, 136 See also jihād Ikhshidids, 121 ilahiyat, 28, 175, 180, 186, 203

Index

258 Imām ‘Ali Ibn Abī Ṭālib/Imām ‘Ali, 26 Imām Mālik, 14 Inclusivism, 9, 24, 25, 38, 40, 61, 63, 68, 76, 173, 175, 202, 204, 206 Incommensurable particularities, 21–22 Indonesia Indonesian religious experience, 28 Intellectual honesty, 27, 146 Intellectual racism, 27, 142 Iraq, 48, 56, 101, 106, 118, 121 Ishmaelites, 133 Islam-Buddhism understanding, 29, 201–218 islamicity, unorthodox –, 12 Islamic World, 2, 4, 9, 11–13, 42, 118, 121, 124, 151, 152, 242 Islamism, 119, 196, 228 Ismā‘īl ibn Kathīr Ja’faris, 77 J jāhiliyya, 116, 178 Jalāl ad-Dīn as-Suyūti, 84 Jāmi‘, 36, 39, 83 Jesus Christ, 9, 131, 132, 135 Jewish, 8, 16, 17, 42, 61, 135, 138, 140, 141, 144, 145, 174, 207, 208, 230 Jews, 11, 17, 39, 41, 42, 44, 47, 48, 82, 90, 116, 117, 131, 132, 135, 141, 143, 145, 162, 174, 202, 203, 213, 229 jihād, 80, 118, 120, 136 John, 6, 9, 15, 28, 30, 61, 63, 64, 132, 133, 175, 179, 209, 213, 218 John Rawls, 63, 239, 243, 244 Judeo-Arabic or Judeo-Islamic culture, 25, 42 K Kabad, affliction, 29, 215 Kadivar, M., 23, 26, 76–94, 120, 163–165 Kamil, Mustafa, 118 Kamrava, M., 80, 150, 152 Kant, I., 16, 20, 154 Karbala, 80 Kashāni, Fathullāh, 88 Kassab, E.S., 24 Kekes, J., 64 Kermani, N., 153, 156, 157, 160 Khan, Muqtedar, 223 Khawārij, 38, 80, 100, 102, 109–111, 113 Khazraj, 44 Khidr, 53 khilāfa, 124, 192 Koçyiğit, Talat, 28, 175 Krämer, Gudrun, 150, 151

Küng, Hans, 65 Kurzman, C., 41, 150, 158 L Lapidus, Ira, 125 Laroui, Abdallah, 23, 24, 124 Leaman, O., 25, 47–57 Lebanon, 118, 121, 233 Legitimate governance, 26 Lerner, R., 247 Liberation theology, 27, 123 Lings, M., 45 Lutfi al-Sayyid and Qasim Amin, 121 M Machiavelli, 125 Madjid, Nurcholish, 28, 189–198, 206 mafsada, 70 Maghreb, 118, 119 Magian, 117 Maimonides/Ibn Maymun, 42 Majid Fakhry, 250 Majjhima-Patipada, middle way, 29, 217 Malay, 2, 212 Malaysia, 212, 218, 222–225, 227, 233, 235 Mamluks, 121 manfaʿa, 70 Maoism, 10 Maqālāt al-islāmiyyīn wa ikhtilāf al-muṣallīn, 5, 6 maqāṣṣid al-sharīʿa, 58 March, A.F., 60, 242 Marxism, 10, 190 Mary, 133 Mas‘ūdī, al-, 4 maṣlaḥa, 65, 70, 82, 193 Massad, J.A., 244 Masud, Muhammad Khalid Māturidis, 77, 92 Maturidite, 28, 176, 178, 180 Mayer, Ann Elizabeth, 120 Meta–Religion, 17, 203 Mogahed, Dalia, 150 Moral neutrality, 30 Moral pluralism, 26, 59–71 Morocco, 77, 118, 235, 250 Morsi (Mohammed), 29 mu‘āmalāt, 19, 60, 64 Mu‘āwiya, 26, 100, 102, 104–108, 110–113 Mu‘tazilite, 20, 23, 26, 52, 68–71, 92, 93, 178 Muḍaris, 104, 108

Index

259

Muhammad Abduh, 20, 151, 158 Mulk, 124 See also Sovereignty Murūj al-dhahab wa ma‘ādin al-jawhar, 4 Musa, 53, 83 Muslim majority societies, 2, 12, 18, 20, 27, 29, 30 Muslim minority communities, 30 Muslims, 2, 36, 48, 60, 76, 100, 116, 130, 150, 172, 189, 202, 221, 242 Muslim World, 12, 24, 28, 119, 121, 122, 125, 138, 151, 160, 190, 191 Mustafa Kamil, 118

Plurality, 2, 3, 6, 8, 10, 11, 22, 28, 60, 62, 64, 71, 150, 157, 159, 163–166, 171–187, 193, 194 Pluralization, 3, 11 Political, 2, 35, 50, 60, 76, 100, 117, 133, 151, 178, 190, 202, 222, 239 Political innocence, 30 Post-September 11, 35 Post-World War Two, 2 Praxis, 27, 43, 44, 123, 125, 196 Prescriptive shari‘a, 14 Prophetic Pact of Medina/Medina Charter, 18, 25

N Nahḍa, 121 Najran, 18 Napoleonic campaing, 11 Nasr, Seyyed Hossein, 15, 40, 78, 79, 175, 179, 206, 209 Nasser (Gamal), 119 Nirvana, 29, 212–216 Nizāmī, x, 13 Non-Islamic, 11, 13, 175 North Africa, 12, 109, 121, 223 Nursi, S., 28, 174 Nussbaum, Martha, 246, 248

Q Qaḥṭanis, 104 Qutb, Sayyid, 20, 119, 138, 242–245, 252

O Occidentalism, 122 Ontological, 154–160 Orientalism, 3, 122, 145, 190 Other, 2, 35, 47, 59, 76, 100, 113, 131, 150, 172, 192, 202, 221, 241 Ottoman, 2, 15, 18, 42, 118, 121, 173, 174, 181, 183, 224 Ottoman Tanzimat, 11 Oumlil, Ali, 3 Outer-islamicity, 12 Özler, Mevlut, 28, 174, 177, 178 P Pancasila, 28, 190, 191, 193, 196, 228 People of the Book, 25, 39, 43, 44, 80, 81, 84, 202, 211 Persian, 2, 13, 25, 42, 88, 106, 118, 212 Peters, R., 120 Philosophy, 4, 42, 59, 76, 124, 154, 175, 209, 240 Pluralism, 35, 48, 59, 76, 117, 131, 150, 173, 191, 201, 222, 239 Pluralism, universal, 123

R Race, A., 9, 61, 62, 173, 175, 202 Rahman, Fazlur, 28, 43, 94, 120, 121, 155, 191, 206 Rahner, K., 10, 181, 202 Ramadan, Tariq, 127, 216 Rational consensus, 26 Rational modesty, 22 Rawls, J., 30, 63, 64, 239–241, 243–252 Rawlsian liberalism reasonable, 30, 251 Recognition, 12, 13, 18, 22, 36, 45, 162, 165, 181, 183, 202, 204, 206, 207, 222, 224, 228 Reconciliation of hearts, ta’līf al-qulūb, 25, 36, 44–45 Religiosity, minimal and maximal, 22 Religious pluralism, 2, 37, 60, 76, 117, 151, 173, 195, 201, 226 Reynolds, G.S., 141, 145 Rida, R., 89 Ridwan, Nur Khalik, 29, 195, 196 Rippin, A., 141 Romans, 2 Rosenthal, F., 5 Rousseau, J.J., 24 rūḥ, 116 Rūmī, 13, 21, 177 Rushdie, Salman, 142, 143 S Sabians, 17, 39, 82, 162, 207 Sachedina, Abdulaziz, 18–20, 37, 85, 117, 204 sadaqa, 44

Index

260 Sa‘dī, 13 Saeed, Abdullah, 125, 242 Said, Edward, 3 Salafi political Islam, 15, 27 salām, 29 Sardar, Ziauddin, 201 Satan, Shayṭān, 29, 211, 216 Schimmel, A., 216 Schmidtke, S., 100, 150, 151 Scientia sacra, 16 Senegal, 29, 222–225, 231, 232, 235 Shahab Ahmed, 13, 14 Shari‘a passim, 8, 15, 16, 65, 69, 78, 82, 87, 88, 92–94, 120, 123, 125, 153, 203 Shariati, Ali, 155, 158 Sharpe, E.J., 4 Shi‘a, 20, 26, 76–94, 100 Shi‘a tradition, 26 Shi‘ite Islam, 76, 77 Shirk, 25, 48, 51, 131, 203, 214, 215 Shiva, 10 Siffin, 105, 107, 109, 157 Sinai, N., 141 Sindūsāt, 4 Skeptical view, 24, 25, 47–57 Small, K., 141 Smith, W.C., 6–9 Social justice, 18, 23, 28, 30, 151, 152, 193, 241 Soroush, Abdolkarim, 21–23, 27, 150–167, 206 Sovereignty, 2, 26, 124, 192, 242 Spanish Reconquista, 42 St. Augustine, 90 Sudan, 121 Sufism, 13, 14, 29, 62, 77, 210, 212, 221–235 Supreme Council for Sufi Orders (Egypt), 30, 234 Sword verse, 26, 80, 81, 84–86, 88, 90, 94 Synoptic Gospels, 132, 144 Syria, 42, 48, 102–104, 106, 118, 121, 209, 223–225 Syriac-speaking Christians, 42 T Tabataba’i, 86–88 See also al-Tabātabā’ī Tafsīr al-Ṭabarī, 4 Taha al-‘Alwani, 119 Taha, Muhammad, 120 Taḥkīm, 26, 99–113

Taḥqīq mā li al-hind min maqūla maqbūla fī al-ʿaql aw mardhūla, 4 Taji-Farouki, Suha, 150–152, 155 takfīr, 38 Talal Asad, 6, 30 ta’līf al-qulūb, 25, 36, 44, 45 tanẓīmāt, 118 See also Tanzimat Tanzimat, 11 taqlīd, 25, 53 taqwā, 36, 79, 120, 121 Tārīkh al-buldān, 4 Tārīkh al-rusul wa al-mulūk, 79, 102, 105 See also Tārikh al-Ṭabarī Tārikh al-Ṭabarī, 4 Tārīkh al-Ya‘qūbī, 4 tawhīd, 28, 79, 123, 172–174, 177–187 Ṭawq al-ḥamāma, 13 Taylor, C., 18 Tekşen, Hüsnü, 176 Theology, 5, 6, 8, 9, 13, 16, 22, 23, 25, 26, 28, 29, 57, 60, 62–64, 68, 79, 92, 94, 100, 123, 130, 133, 141, 146, 153, 160, 164, 173–178, 180, 182, 186, 201–218 Topaloğlu, Bekir, 177, 183, 185 Torah, 130, 132, 136, 211 Tradition, 2, 38, 49, 59, 76, 100, 120, 132, 150, 174, 212, 224, 240 Truth, 8, 55, 62, 76, 130, 151, 173, 195, 224, 242 Tunisia, 29, 222–226, 229, 230, 235 Turkey Turkish Muslim thought, 28, 171–187 Turks, 118, 121, 233 U Ülken, Hilmi Ziya, 176 Umayyad, 18, 80, 113, 118, 124, 157 umma umma muqtaṣida, 41 umma qā’ima, 41 umma wasaṭan, 41 Universalism, 26, 116–127, 210 V Van Ess, Josef, 100 Van Inwagen, P., 66 Vatican II, 145, 174, 202 Violence, 109, 113, 122, 140, 143, 196, 198, 217, 218, 234

Index W waḥy, 29, 158, 214–216 Wansbrough, J., 141 Waṣaṭiyya, 29, 54, 126 Watt, M., 41, 117, 216 West Asia, Middle East, 12 West, the, ix, 5, 12, 16, 27, 28, 40, 105, 121, 122, 133, 146, 151, 152, 160, 185, 205, 218, 225, 229, 231, 242–244 Western Christians, 27, 210 Wilkinson, T.R., 28, 171–187

261 Y Yahweh, 10, 213 Yusuf, I., 29, 201–218 Z Zaidis, 77 zakāt, 44 Zechariah, 133 Zohouri, P., 27, 150–167 Zoroastrians, 18, 25, 43, 117 Zubair, 79 Zwemer, S., 136–139