Mission

Humantrustees.org aims to foster understanding and cooperation between Muslims and Christians so as to empower them to live up to their God-given calling as “trustees of the earth.” This Christian initiative seeks to accomplish this goal through scholarship, teaching, news commentary, and networking between scholars, members of both communities, and with anyone else who is passionate about peace and human flourishing.
David L Johnston  

David L Johnston

Two events have taken place since I wrote the second installment of this trilogy of blogs on Sheikh Rached Ghannouchi.

That said, the Quartet’s work could not have succeeded had their advocacy with Ennahda, the ruling party, not borne fruit. Ennahda did what rarely any party has done anywhere else, by stepping down from power before their mandate had come to an end. True, the country had been shaken by the assassinations of two secular opposition politicians that year. Still, the fact that Ghannouchi’s Ennahda willingly gave up power to join the other political forces of Tunisia in drawing up a new constitution and reconvene a new set of parliamentary elections in the next year is nothing short of phenomenal.

Ennahda, among all other political currents, was justified in taking some credit for this honor. Thanks to all the political factions, the so-called Arab Spring would continue to live on – with all its ups and downs – in the land where it was born.

The second event was more personal. Sheikh Rachid Ghannouchi addressed a packed conference room (I know, as I was sitting on the floor in the overflow room!) at the Washington, DC United States Institute of Peace (USIP) on the theme “Democratizing under Fire: Can Tunisia Show the Way?” His presentation was followed by a panel with two USIP scholars, and questions from the floor. Even though it took a lot of effort to drive there and back on a rainy day from Philadelphia, it was very rewarding – both the content of the seminar and the opportunity to meet him and several of his aides, including one of his daughters who will coordinate with me on the translation of her father’s book. Sheikh Rachid, as he is affectionately called, is indeed a gracious man, and I certainly felt privileged to have met him in person.

 

Ghannouchi on the emergence of human rights in the West

In the previous blog post, I quoted from his Chapter 3, “Basic Democratic Principles.” Here I back up to the previous chapter, “The Islamic Perspective on Freedom and Human Rights.” Here is the first paragraph:

 

“Since the declarations of human rights on civic freedoms were only guarantees for the bourgeoisie against the feudal lords and the papacy, in the end their deceitful nature and partiality betrayed them. Then came the various socialist currents aiming to expose their empty rhetoric and emphasize social rights for humanity – while acting in fact as another set of tyrants.”

 

Let me unpack this a bit. Ghannouchi is saying that the 18th-century Enlightenment philosophy was a declaration of independence from the absolute reign of Europe’s feudal kings (an idea violently carried out in the French Revolution), just as the papal grip on much of Europe had been gradually eroded by the Protestant Reformation two centuries earlier. Following thinkers like John Locke, the beginning of human rights discourse was mostly about individual rights against the encroachment of political rulers, and much more about the elites than about poor peasants and the growing urban poor.

So who benefited from the industrial revolution of the 18th and 19th centuries? It was largely Europe’s urban middle classes, says Ghannouchi, who were able to maintain their power over a largely disenfranchised working class employed in often sub-human conditions within the coalmines and factories of the day.

Marxism in its various shades built upon the reality of this class struggle and defined freedom as the downtrodden overthrowing the monopoly of the bourgeoisie over the means of production, which then would lead to a transitional dictatorship of this proletariat. In the end this process would create a utopian, classless society. The reality, as alluded to in his above quote, was the complete opposite.

Still, European colonialism and its attendant ideologies had an enormous impact on Muslim nations, for instance in the 19th century in places like Egypt and even in the heart of the Ottoman Empire (today’s Turkey), where many of the elites had been educated in the West and chose to adopt Western ideas and implement political, legal and economic reforms.

 

Shari’a and freedom

Ghannouchi mostly wrote his book, The Public Freedoms of the Islamic State, from a prison cell. He knew the underbelly of state repression first-hand. What is more, in the 1980s his generation was the first one raised in the postcolonial era, when the nations’ “right of self-determination” had become the main paradigm of human freedom (still to be achieved by Palestinians). It was also a time when global condemnation and boycotting of the Apartheid regime of South Africa was beginning to mount. Further – and Ghannouchi would not have known this – a movement of both Catholic and Protestant theologians in Latin America (and South Africa) were developing a “liberation theology” leaning on the teaching and practice of Jesus to launch a grassroots (mostly) nonviolent movement designed to empower the poor who were often brutally exploited by the capitalist elites propped up by US political and economic interests in their region.

That is the context, I believe, in which this paragraph makes the most sense:

 

“Since Islam is a comprehensive revolution seeking to overthrow tyranny and darkness, freeing the human will from all subjection to what is not God, it would be possible for those who study Islam to summarize it in the words, ‘a comprehensive revolution of liberation.’ One should not understand from the common usage of ‘freedom’ that it’s simply about permission or permissiveness. The logic of truth cannot entertain that the liberational message of Islam – brought to humankind from creation by thousands of prophets and messengers, in addition to their successors in the general announcement to people – would be summarized as God allowing you to do what you desire. No, Islam’s conception is quite the opposite. God created you and he forbids you to follow your every ignorant whim, and he commands you to follow – as a conscious decision of your own will and design – the path that pleases Him for your life, the only one in which you will find happiness and development in this life and the next. But if you turn your back on it, you will find eternal calamity.”

 

“The path that pleases Him for your life” – quite literally – is the Shari’a. Etymologically, it’s the desert path that leads to the watering hole, or the path that guides people to a full life in this world and the next.

Still, that sounds like a very different definition of “freedom,” you might say. Yes, but it’s no different than in Judaism (replace Shari’a by halakha) or Christianity. In the gospels, Jesus’ first call to people is to follow him. In fact, to do so requires the disciple’s death to self-will and ambition (symbolized by picking up our own cross, as for instance in Luke 9:27). Freedom means that you get to choose or refuse this offer.

 

Human trusteeship and human rights

To some extent, Ghannouchi is right that the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) offers “the marks of secularism or a human religion based on the divinity of humankind in the universe and on people making themselves the source of every right and legislation.” But that’s not a necessarily so.

In fact, the UDHR was hammered out in a long process of negotiations between people who represented the world’s main religions, as well as strong secularists. So in practice, it can certainly be interpreted in that fashion. Still, influential voices in their midst included two Christians, Eleanor Roosevelt and Charles Malik (the Lebanese representative), and the Chinese Confucian philosopher and playwright Pen-chun Chang. Moreover, seven Muslim-majority nations contributed handsomely to the discussions (see my paper, “A Muslim and Christian Orientation to Human Rights”).

I have always argued that human rights discourse is only a framework into which people from many faiths and no faith can inject their own theology of humanity. That certainly was the main theme of my book, Earth, Empire and Sacred Text – Muslims and Christians converging in their doctrine of creation by seeing God empowering humans to rule on earth as his trustees and thus being fully accountable to Him for the way in which they manage its resources and people. Notice how important this concept is to Ghannouchi here:

 

“[God] alone is Creator and Owner of all his creatures, and the Definer of their way of life (Shari’a). And human beings are His trustees, whom the Creator honored by granting them a mind, a will, freedom, and by the sending of messengers in order to help them discover the way of truth and follow the path of perfection by means of their commitment to the Shari’a or law of God, which He defined in its final form, revealed as it was through the agency of the Arab prophet Muhammad. This Shari’a is the general framework meant to guide human life individually and collectively, but also granting humanity within that framework wide empty spaces, requiring them to fulfill their God-given trusteeship by managing everything within their scope, and thereby joining together in harmony, freedom and commitment, unity and plurality.”

 

Therefore, the God-given dignity conferred upon the human person is what impels Muslims to set up a polity that allows all citizens to enjoy these rights:

 

“ … human rights should be grounded in humanity’s Creator:

a) This gives them a sanctity that pulls them out of the orbit of a regime’s domination, or that of a political party that manipulates them at will.

b) It renders them a trust that believers can hang around their neck, holding them accountable for their protection, for their establishment in human society, and for resisting the tyrants’ violation of them, because that is a religious duty that will be rewarded if fulfilled, and punished if neglected.

c) It gives them the true dimensions of humanity, and thus warding off any discrimination based on race, nationality and class, since He is “God of the Worlds,” and not of only one nation or umma.

d) It gives them a comprehensive and positive dimension that moves them away from mere formalism or selectivity in legislation, because God is the Creator of humanity and He alone knows the true needs of his creatures.

e) Tying rights to the Divine Legislator is not to enforce the despotism of a theocratic polity, for there is no clergy in Islam that sanctions or forbids. Rather, the One who loosens or binds is God, who shows no partiality nor treats anyone unjustly, for He is in no need of anything or anyone in the universe, and thus finds no benefit when he is obeyed and no harm when he is disobeyed. Therefore, he grants rights in an absolutely just manner and enlists every believer to defend them when they are violated, whether the enmity is directed toward him personally, or toward someone else, whether believer or not. It is a duty to both remove injustice and to achieve righteousness.

 

 

But what are these rights recognized by the Divine Legislator? I have no space to delve into the details here. But we do know from contemporary debates that there’s clearly a tension between how Islamic law was traditionally interpreted and contemporary norms of human rights and citizenship in a democratic polity. For Ghannouchi, however, the latter trumps the former, and this mostly because of his theology of humanity:

 

“Islam is not content to declare the human person’s right to life, freedom and personal integrity; it considers that a sacred duty enjoined upon the community and the individual. The human being is appointed as God’s trustee, that is, his deputy charged with the responsibility to judge among his creatures with justice. Thus anyone who sets out to obey God and judge his creatures aright is God’s trustee.”

 

Apostasy as an example

But what about the Muslim who decides she no longer wants to remain Muslim? Apostasy and blasphemy laws in conservative countries like Pakistan and Afghanistan account for egregious human rights violations one can regularly read about in the press.

Ghannouchi devotes several pages to this issue, stating that the majority opinion traditionally – based on one particular hadith, and not the Qur’an – was that the apostate should incur the death penalty, because it came under the category of the hudud offenses (those which violate “God’s rights,” and are stipulated in the Qur’an and Sunna, like hand amputation for theft).

At the same time, there was always a minority view, which has become even more mainstream today, which sees apostasy as something between God and the individual. The Qur’an in several places warns those who abandon their faith of tragic consequences in the life to come, but mentions no punishment in this life. In fact, according to this view, the words and deeds of the Prophet and the four Rightly-Guided Caliphs show that apostasy was a political crime for them, which was committed by people who posed a material threat to the young Islamic state in Medina. It would be like people put on trial for treason today. That is also Ghannouchi’s view.

Characteristically, he then looks at the wider context of Tunisia’s Muslim society, deploring the inroads that Western-style secularism has made on many people’s minds. They have bought into a distorted view of Islam and often turn their backs on religion. Is this apostasy, he asks? No, the blame goes to the Muslim leadership in mosques and schools. A new and more relevant approach is needed. As such, education captures a key role here and in many other parts of his book.

Let me wrap up here. Ghannouchi’s emphasis on genuine, full-fledged democratic political procedures and state institutions, on the one hand, and on the necessity for a wider culture of respect for the ethical values put forward by religion on the other, opens a wide area of agreement between people of all faiths – and in particular, between moderate “islamists” like the followers of Ennahda, and American evangelicals, who also deplore that loss of basic values within their own political system. This is an issue I take up in part in a forthcoming trilogy of blogs on “The Impossible Islamic State?”

A coalition of Muslims and Christians have come together to address the rising tide of discrimination, intolerance, and at times downright hatred against Muslims in the United States. This is what is called today Islamophobia (see my 2011 blog on the 138-page report by the Center for American Progress entitled, "Fear, Inc.: Exposing the Islamophobia Network in America"; also my blog examining Robert Spencer's work).

Among these are the International Center for Religion and Diplomacy (ICRD) based in Washington, DC, Peace Catalyst International (PCI) headquartered in Denver and the Dialogue Institute (DI) at Temple University in Philadelphia.

In January 2014, ICRD convened 19 U.S. and Pakistani religious leaders for a week in Nepal to establish an Interfaith Leadership Network (ILN) that will develop and jointly pursue capacity-enhancing initiatives to ease the plight of religious minorities in Pakistan and to arrest the spread and impact of Islamophobia in the United States. Among other goals, this Network proposes to bring together American religious leaders, predominantly from the Evangelical movement, to educate, discuss and ultimately limit the impact of Islamophobia in the United States.

The next step was for Douglas Johnston of the ICRD, Rick Love of PCI, and Leonard Swidler of Temple University's DI to convene a conference on Religious Freedom and Islamophobia (October 6-8, 2015), which sought to help evangelicals and others understand the consequences of and develop thoughtful responses to Islamophobia in the United States.

This was the paper I presented -- a look at the historical roots of American evangelical Islamophobia. My thesis was that from the late seventeen century to now there has been a sad continuity in evangelical polemics against Islam and Muslims, but that there were nevertheless signs of hope today as well. We should continue to vigorously build on those!

It was subsequently published in the Journal of Ecumenical Studies (Temple University) 51, 2 (2016), 224-35.

 

27 September 2015

Glenn Beck, Can We Talk?

Glenn, I’ve never met you, but I just read your new book, It IS about Islam. Congratulations to you and your team for a well-written book, with good sources (though very selective), and a great passion for the welfare of our country!

Can we talk about it? As someone who lived for sixteen years in Algeria, Egypt, and Israel/Palestine, and as a scholar of contemporary Islam, I see much that is true, but also much that is skewed, mostly because you were so intent on proving that “the world is going over the cliff,” and that Muslims are pushing us over it. If we don’t speak out loud and clear, you warn us, America is next. It’s that serious, you believe.

Let’s take a deep breath and consider the evidence. Let’s start with what you get right.

 

Classical Islamic Law, Jihad, House of Islam and House of War

Islam, indeed, is unique among the three monotheistic faiths, in that its founder was both prophet and statesman. But it’s less unique than you think. The Israelites coming out of Egypt under Moses’ leadership functioned as a theocracy. After much chaos and some divine reticence, God allowed them some kings, though it turned out badly for them in the long run. Still, King David is revered in all three faiths, and for us Christians he foreshadowed the Messiah, Jesus Christ, whose kingdom was “not of this world,” but will become a comprehensive rule of justice and peace over a New Heavens and a New Earth when he comes again. So the picture of just rule is actually common to these faiths, though playing out very differently in each case.

Here are some points worth reiterating about classical Islamic law:

1. Muhammad did initiate military conquests, which his successors continued with astonishing success.

2. The “sword verses” in the Qur’an that you cite were deemed by the consensus of scholars/jurists from all five schools of law to have abrogated the more peaceful, “live and let live” ones.

3. As a result, by the 10th century Muslims assumed a binary view of the world – the House of Islam versus the House of War, implying that through jihad they should strive to bring the whole world under the authority of Muslim rule.

4. You rightly single out the 18th-century Wahhabi revolution in Arabia as the launch of the modern Islamist revolution, which was then given ideological and practical expression as an urban mass movement by Hasan al-Banna’s Muslim Brotherhood (MBs) in Egypt and Mawdudi’s parallel movement in India/Pakistan. Sayyid Qutb, a latecomer to the MBs, nevertheless spearheaded the radical jihadi ideology picked up by many splinter groups starting in the 1970s.

5. You emphasize the Shia millenarian stream (the coming of the Hidden Imam as the Mahdi), the powerful influence of the Iranian Revolution across the Islamic spectrum, and the eschatological fervor evident in the ideology of ISIS, along with its horrific record of bloodshed, ruthless authoritarianism, and religious persecution of all who disagree with them, starting with other Muslims.

6. You’re right about the classical formulations of Islamic law butting against current norms of human rights – for women’s rights, freedom of expression, and especially freedom of religion in Muslim-majority states like Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran and others (though each case is different).

 

I do have some sharp disagreements with your book, however.

 

Religious interpretations evolve with changing times

Islam is like any other faith tradition – it evolves over time, as people come to the texts and customs of the past with new questions borne out of the worldview and concerns of their day. So you wrongly equate “political Islam” (Islamism) with “Islam.” You acknowledge that most Muslims are “moderate,” but then add: “But increasingly I fear these Muslims are the exception” (p. 9).

Here you rightly point to a fact picked up by social scientists studying religion. Muslims have become generally more religiously conservative over the last few decades. But there are reasons. Among the three most important ones:

1. Globally, people of all religions have gotten a lot more religious since the 1970s (see the Fundamentalism Project, five volumes coming out in the late 80s and early 90s, and my blog on fundamentalism).

2. Saudi Arabia's petrodollars bankrolling the spread of their Wahhabi/Salafi ideology all over the world since the 1960s. This ultraconservative and literalistic reading of the Qur’an and the Prophet’s sayings (the Sunna) is a huge factor working in conjunction with Qutb’s writings.

3. Most Muslims feel angry about all kinds of perceived injustices against Muslims in Bosnia (1990s), Palestine and Kashmir, and Western (mostly American) wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, including US drone attacks killing scores of civilians. Glenn, you yourself recognize in your book that the US war in Iraq helped to create ISIS.

 

Sharia and American Muslims

Your description of Sharia (p. 121ff) is skewed. You define it as the “codification of the rules of the lifestyle (or deen) ordained by Allah.” Sharia was never codified – that’s a modern, nation-state term implying law codes drafted by a country’s legislative body.

Islamic history is the story of two competing powers – the caliph, sultan, shah, warlord or dynastic king versus the thick network of Islamic scholars/jurists (ulama) and their institutions, including a powerful network of endowed mosques, schools (madrassa), sharia courts, and Sufi centers. The latter generally supported the political status quo, but more often than not looked the other way, resisted political appointments to the state courts, and sometimes even opposed regimes they considered iniquitous. Ibn Taymiyya (d. 1328), whom you mention, spent a good deal of his life in prison.

So no, in practice Islamic societies experienced a near constant tug of war between religion and state, with a large space for what we call today “civil society.” Religion and state were never automatically welded in Islamic societies. Further, Sharia was very weak on constitutional law, even if you choose to call the political theory writings in that context by that name. It was more an exercise in justifying the less than ideal status quo by jurists who sought to curry favor with the rulers.

Now to the present day. First, the binary view of the world fell off a cliff, to use your terms, in the 18th century among the ulama establishment. Seeking to make their peace with Western colonial hegemony over their territories and lives (most puppet rulers put in place by the West also imported Western law codes and limited Shari’a courts to family law). Jihad now became a defensive ideology in the service of a modern nation-state eager to at least seem to be fitting in with the new world order, and this especially after WWII and the birth of multiple new nations.

That’s why many Muslims resisted, like Hasan al-Banna and his ilk, especially after the Ottoman caliphate was dissolved by Kemal Attatürk in 1924. No, they said, let’s get back to the classical theory of the House of War and the House of Islam. “To h… with the defensive jihad of the ulama!,” roared Sayyid Qutb, “We cannot rest till the whole world comes under the dominion of God’s law!” And so the modern jihadi movement was launched (he was executed by Egypt’s Gamal Abd al-Nasser in 1966).

Second, with the redefinition of jihad came an acceptance of democracy as the best way to rule a modern state. Among the 48 nations that signed the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) were Egypt, Iraq, Lebanon, Iran, Turkey and Syria. No Muslim country opposed it; only Saudi Arabia abstained. Naturally, one has to point out the irony here – in practice most of these countries have never been able to establish a working democracy. But then, you cannot blame “Islam” for that. Look at the postcolonial states in Africa! And recall too that it took us over 200 years to get our democracy working, in spite of a bloody civil war that just about destroyed us!

This is why, Glenn, I cannot accept your statement, “Democracy itself is un-Islamic … Sharia does not respect individual rights.” I’ve written a great deal about Islam and democracy (see, for instance, this most recent publication). The largest Gallup poll ever conducted was from 2001 to 2007 in 35 different Muslim countries. Vast majorities said they wanted to be able to elect their government and that civil and political freedoms were important to them. Specifically, when asked whether they would guarantee freedom of speech if drafting a new constitution (defined as, “allowing all citizens to express their opinion on the political, social and economic issues of the day”), 94% answered yes in Egypt, 93% did so in Iran and 90% in Indonesia.

What also comes out clearly from this poll is that substantial majorities want both democracy and sharia – with majorities only in Jordan, Egypt, Pakistan, Afghanistan and Bangladesh wanting it as “the only source of legislation.” Most others want it as “a source.” Also, both men and women score within a similar range on the issue of women’s civil and political rights. Having the same rights as men was chosen by 90% of respondents in Indonesia, Bangladesh, Turkey and Lebanon; 85% in Iran. So obviously, their definition of sharia is quite different from yours!

Third, your statement that all the major US Islamic organizations are beholden to the Muslim Brotherhood is completely overblown. There were certainly students who have come to the US over the years who were related to this movement – it’s been so very influential all over the ME since the 1930s, and because Hamas is popular with at least a third of Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank, it has representation in this country as well. But from there to say that political Islam dominates the US Islamic landscape is an impossible leap.

You make a lot of Ismail Elbarasse’s arrest in 2004, but apart from a Washington Post article following the incident of the filming of the bridge and subsequent search of their home, I could find no more articles on this affair except on the various sites that purport to “expose jihad”: “global Muslim Brotherhood watch” and counter jihad report. He was never indicted for wrongdoing, let alone convicted.

The closest to a juridical body that most Muslims see as authoritative in this country is the Fiqh [jurisprudence] Council of North America (FCNA, see my blog showing that on the basis of the 2011 Gallup poll in the US we see that most American Muslims distrust their own organizations). It’s closely associated with the conservative, but also mainstream, Islamic Society of North America (ISNA). If you point to “About ISNA” on their website, you will see “ISNA’s position on terrorism and religious extremism,” which is taken from a fatwa (legal opinion) handed down by FCNA. Here I quote one of the paragraphs, which follows an exposition of jihad that is the classic modern one I mentioned above.

 

“Third, it is a disingenuous and misleading tactic to focus exclusively on verses that deal with the contingencies of legitimate self-defense, and to ignore the repeated and consistent statements of the Qur’an that emphasize the sanctity of human life [5:32], respect for human dignity [17:70], acceptance of plurality, including plurality of religious convictions [5:48, 11:118], peaceful co-existence with all [60:8-9], universal and unbiased justice even with the enemy [4:135, 5:8], universal brotherhood [49:13] and mercy to all creation [21:107]. The Qur’an is a whole and cohesive book, and should not be interpreted in a piecemeal fashion” (emphasis theirs).

 

One last example … Imam Sayyid M. Syeed, one of ISNA’s top leaders for decades and also a personal friend of mine (we’ve worked together on several dialogue initiatives) said this to the press about Pope Francis’ recent visit to the US: “Francis’ visit is even more important for Muslims than it is for Catholics.” He explained that in contrast to the pope who 1,000 years ago helped to launch the First Crusade against Muslims, “now there is a pope who wants to destroy hatred the world over, a pope who named himself for a 13th-century saint who counseled Christians to cease their violence against Muslims.”

He concluded, “This pope is our pope.”

 

Your ranting about the threat of Muslims IS an infringement on religious freedom

I’m guessing that in reading these statement made by American Muslims you thought, “but that’s taqiya, or lies; they just say that …” I reply, based on just the little evidence I’ve presented here, that you’ve bought into conspiracy theories that are warranted by your version of right-wing politics. You constantly rail on the liberal Washington establishment and mainstream media, but that also makes it very difficult for you to listen to any other voice.

Stephen Prothero, religion professor at Boston University, wrote a telling column in USA Today. Reacting to Donald Trump’s refusal to question the man who said Obama was Muslim and Ben Carson’s stating just like you that Islam and our freedom were incompatible and that therefore no Muslim should be president, he reminded his readers that religious freedom in this country has a checkered past. Muslims are just the latest bogeyman.

Thomas Jefferson was the first president to have been called a Muslim (an atheist and more), Catholics, almost until Kennedy was elected, were denounced as “fake Christians, amoral villains and traitors to the nation.” Jews have suffered at least that much discrimination and rancor. But also your own people, the Mormons, “were targeted as slaves of a religious despot whose liberty was incompatible with our own. Before this culture war was over, Mormon leaders would be sued, jailed, beaten, stripped naked, tarred and feathered, and murdered.”

Glen, you emphasize the good example of the Nazarene. Jesus surely would want us to speak kindly and truthfully about one another. His first commandment was love.

I challenge you to make friends with fellow Americans who are Muslims, as many of us have done. They are wonderful people you and I can learn a lot from. Yes, they will continue to work out their beliefs and practices within the context of this pluralistic, democratic society (that’s the thrust of my own academic work). And yes, law enforcement will bear down without mercy on all of those who threaten the security of our nation, whether Muslim or Christian extremists, or militia members like Timothy McVeigh. And by the way, terrorism specialists are not nearly as worried as you are about global jihad.

Glenn, I hope we can keep talking about these issues.

How does the youngest of ten in a poor, remote Tunisian village, became at age 70 his nation’s most influential politician and thinker in the wake of the revolution that had just toppled its dictator of 24 years? Rached (or Rachid) Ghannouchi’s islamist party Ennahda (or al-Nahda, with the article, “Renaissance”) won the most votes in 2011, ruled in a coalition with a secular party, then in 2013, stepped down so it could play a constructive role in drawing up Tunisia’s Constitution promulgated in 2014 – plainly the most progressive and pluralist constitution in the MENA region (North Africa and the Middle East). Without Ghannouchi, the one success story of the Arab Spring would not have happened (see this March 2015 article for a balanced perspective).

Ghannouchi’s picture at the top is taken from a BBC article taking a little pride in Ghannouchi’s 20-year exile residing on a leafy street in West London. This was a year after he had returned triumphant to his home country and the author celebrates his stay in London:

 

The green lawns of suburban London appear to have been more than just a base for Mr Ghannouchi. He once famously declared that Britain embodied the values of his ideal Islamic state more than most Muslim-majority nations - a shocking statement at a time when many Muslim ideologues saw the West as a mortal enemy.

"We consider that a state is more Muslim, more Islamic, the more it has justice in it," he says.

"When people asked me why I came to Britain, I explained that I was going to a country ruled by a queen where people are not oppressed and where justice prevails."

 

Actually, that statement is also in the book of his I’m translating, and this is the second blog out of three I’ll be writing on him. In the first one, I set the stage by giving a brief history of Egyptian and North African Islamic thought in the last century, with a little primer on political Islam (“islamism”). Here I’m answering a question I posed in the first blog relative to the Algerian philosopher, Malek Bennabi, Ghannouchi’s mentor:

How does a secular-leaning Muslim anti-colonial activist become an inspiration to a nascent islamist movement in neighboring Tunisia?

 

An improbable web of influences

I’ll list them in chronological order with a minimum of commentary:

 

1. A strong traditional Islamic upbringing: his father was the village imam. He had memorized the Qur’an and expected his boys to do so as well. The extended family cultivated their land and Rached had to quit school for four years till he was 15 to help his ailing father. At 18 he followed his brothers and from 1959-62 attended the oldest Islamic college in the Maghreb (built in 732), al-Zaytuna, in the capital, Tunis. But by then this traditionalist Islam only convinced him it had nothing to contribute to the modern world and he stopped practicing and even believing.

 

2. An admiration for Nasser’s Arabism: this started during the many evenings he spent with others at his uncle Bashir’s house, an influential man who had fought for independence with Bourguiba (Tunisia’s first president and dictator, 1975-87) and still involved in his ruling party. They would listen to broadcasts from Egypt and talk with great enthusiasm about President Gamal Abdel Nasser’s policies. This love for the Arab East (Mashreq, as opposed to Maghreb) is what sent him later to Egypt and then to Syria.

 

3. A disillusionment with Nasser’s ideology: this happened, starting with his three months in Egypt. He had begun to study agriculture, but an accord was signed between Nasser and Bourguiba and all the “fugitive” (read “anti-Bourguiba”) students were to be repatriated by force. Rached managed to escape to Syria, where he stayed 7 years (1961-68), obtaining a BA in philosophy, among other things. He also spent 7 months in 1965 traveling and working odd jobs in Europe. But he came back mostly shocked at how decadent the youth were there. He was starting to shed his socialist and Arab nationalist ideology and was moving closer to the islamist groups that were springing up at the time (especially after the 1967 humiliating Arab defeat at the hands of Israel). The ringleader of a small group of students like himself, Rached directed them to enter into dialog with several islamist groups. It was with the Muslim Brotherhood, especially, that he realized that their Islam was more authentic (it was “comprehensive,” encompassing all of life including politics) than the Islam he had grown up with.

 

4. A conversion experience: that gradual attraction to Islam in his mid-twenties culminated with a profound experience in the night of June 15, 1966:

 

“That night I shed two things off me: secular nationalism and traditional Islam . . . That was the night I was overwhelmed by an immense surge of faith, love, and admiration for this religion to which I pledged my life. On that night I was reborn, my heart was filled with the light of God, and my mind with the determination to review and reflect on all that which I had previously conceived” (in Azzam S. Tamimi’s Rachid Ghannouchi: A Democrat within Islamism, p. 22).

 

5. His Salafi stage: this should be qualified – not technical salafism as we know it today (the ultraconservatives with women completely covered in black and men in white robes half way down from the knees), but as he came to France in 1968 to work on a doctorate in the philosophy of education, he ended up joining a Tabligh community, a very conservative apolitical group started in India in the 1920s, whose members go door to door to get Muslims to practice their faith and follow their particular teachings. For the next few years (remember, his conversion experience was still fresh), he felt pulled in the direction of a very literalistic, ritualistic spirituality. In fact, when word got to his family that he was going door to door in Paris with a long beard, a long white robe and cap, they thought he had gone mad and sent the older brother to Paris to bring him home, under the pretext that his mother was very sick and needed to see him. That was the end of his stay in France, just over a year.

 

Bennabi’s influence on Ghannouchi

You’re probably wondering, how did Rached Ghannouchi move from this very conservative, apolitical religious practice to an intellectual and politically active one?

First, there was this serendipitous encounter he made at the al-Zaytuna mosque in Tunis on his way back to France. He spotted an unusual sight: a shaykh with a large circle of students around him, mostly children and old people. But there was one young man. Intrigued, he spoke to him and the latter led him to a small Tabligh circle, recently started by a Pakistani man. There he met a law student who would become a life-long friend and collaborator, Abdel Fattah Moro. Then and there Ghannouchi decided to stay in Tunisia.

Second, Ghannouchi soon founded a clandestine organization that grew out of that cell, but with a mission much wider than Tabligh ideas and practice. These were Muslim intellectuals with a bent for political activism and because of the books he had read by Bennabi, he took some of these to Algeria to attend Bennabi’s yearly Annual Islamic Thought Seminars. They attended three years in a row (1970-72), just a years before Bennabi died.

This is what Bennabi loved to do at this stage – inspire and train young leaders. He took these Tunisians under his wing and gave them a vision for what could happen in Tunisia through their concerted efforts. They would sow the seeds of an enlightened Islam that would bring out the best of their heritage from the past, speak out against tyranny, and find solutions to the cultural, economic and political morass now plaguing their nation.

The fruit of that mentorship would be seen in Ghannouchi’s and Moro’s co-founding of the Movement for the Islamic Tendency (MTI) in 1981.

What Bennabi taught them, above all, is the dynamic interchange between faith and reason. Yes, you start with the sacred texts (Qur’an and Sunna) and then you look at your particular context and study the specific cultural, historical, economic and political elements that make up the personality of your nation. Islam is a comprehensive system, but not a cookie-cutter model you impose everywhere willy-nilly. No, God created human beings to build civilizations, inhabiting the earth and shaping human societies in creative and just ways.

I leave you now with two excepts from the book he mostly wrote from prison, which was then reviewed and enlarged after arriving in London, The Public Freedoms of the Islamic State. Just remember this translation is still a draft. My editor, Andrew March, a Political Science professor at Yale, told me that Ghannouchi himself wants to be involved, and possibly his daughter, who is finishing a PhD at the prestigious Sciences Politiques university in Paris.

This is from Chapter 3, “Basic Democratic Principles.” This is a very Bennabian way of dealing with history and civilization. Islamic civilization, though it is superior (because as a Muslim you see it inspired by the last and most authoritative revelation), builds on previous ones, learning from them, developing that knowledge and research, and thereby enriching human collective civilization. That touches on the idea of creation and human trusteeship, a topic I take up next time. But here, a discussion about the historical appearance of the democratic system of governance:

 

“It wasn’t theoreticians, legal specialists, or political scientists who came up with the democratic system; rather, it evolved out of far-reaching historical developments. Many of its laws derive from political systems that prevailed in the Middle Ages or simply from the common legacy of human civilization, and gradually evolved to become the foundation for the new system that incorporated old elements that agreed with its logic. The development of science had its impact on the growth of production and the advancement of the means of transportation, while Europeans in the course of their pilgrimages to the Holy Land and Crusades came into contact with Muslims, something which upended their social structure and values. A fruit of all of this was the free democratic political system. In fact, the European contact with the Islamic world caused a psychological shock that awakened it from the slumber of feudalism, the stupor of the church’s religion, and the dictatorship of the aristocratic kings” (al-Hurriyat al-‘amma fi-l-dawla al-islamiyya, Beirut: Markaz Dirasat al-Wihda al-Arabiyya, 1993, pp. 73-4).

 

You may not agree with the last sentence, because if anything, the Islamic contributions to Western civilizations up till now have been seriously downplayed in our Western educational systems. That’s changing, and it’s at least plausible that because of the Crusades, but especially the commercial and intellectual exchanges with Umayyad Spain from the 8th to the 11th centuries, a good deal more than just mathematics, science and philosophy were passed on from Muslims to Europeans.

Then the same chapter ends with this interesting paragraph. Note that democracy for him is a neutral set of institutional and political mechanisms applicable in a variety of settings and therefore infinitely adaptable:

 

If the said democratic apparatus had functioned within the framework of Christian values, it would have produced Christian democratic characteristics; if in the framework of a socialist philosophy, it would have produced socialist democratic characteristics; if in the framework of Jewish values, it would have produced a Jewish democracy. So is it impossible for it to function within the framework of Islamic values and produce an Islamic democracy? We support that perspective and see in it a great good, not just for Islam’s umma and those oppressed by tyranny, but for all of humanity. Even an Islamic regime that excludes the democratic apparatus offers no sufficient guarantees. This does not make the Islamic alternative a break with the heritage of contemporary civilization, but rather an extension of it that preserves the best of that heritage and transcends its destructive flaws, since this is the path of development, as it was the work of the Prophet (PBUH) as he fulfilled the work of the prophets before him, may God’s prayers be upon all of them!” (al-Hurriyat al-‘amma, p. 88).

This is the first blog post on this site by someone other than myself [despite my name still being on it -- to be worked out!]. This will happen from time to time, as opportunities arise. In this case, my friend Allan Christelow, Professor of History at Idaho State University (also mentioned and quoted in my last blog on the rise of islamism in the Maghreb) sent me this piece originally published in the Indian publication, the Diplomatist.

It was written right after the March-April 2015 presidential elections in Nigeria and I see it as a follow-up to my 2012 blog, "Reconciliation Possible in Nigeria."

As I have often put it, Nigeria is Africa's "ground zero" for Muslim-Christian relations. What happens there between Muslims and Christians spreads to other parts of the continent.

And as it should be, Christelow's piece is very much in the spirit of this site.

 

 

April 2015, Allan Christellow

Nigeria's Presidential Election: What the Global Media Miss

 On March 28, Nigerians entered an exquisite ordeal – the first presidential election where it seemed that either candidate had a good chance to win. They dressed up in colourful clothes. Civil servants and politicians living in the capital city of Abuja travelled to their home towns where they could meet their extended family as well as vote. But they had to worry about attacks by terrorists or youth gangs. And they had to hope that the complex, new biometric machines would successfully read their new, permanent voter cards.





Beyond the Headlines



Global media commentary on these elections often mentions that Nigeria is close to equally divided between Muslims and Christians, implying that this was an election that pitted one religion against the other. Yet, Nigeria is a society that demonstrates that there can be great diversity among both Christians and Muslims.



The voters chose not just a president, but also a vice president. Nigerians are well aware of the importance of that second slot, for they can remember that Goodluck Jonathan was elected as vice president in 2007. Then, in 2010, President Umaru Yar’Adua entered a prolonged health crisis, and finally died.



Jonathan succeeded him, and then won the next election in 2011 against Muhammadu Buhari, a retired general, who had briefly served as Nigeria’s military ruler in 1984-86, then run for president and lost in 2003 and 2007. Nigeria had initially made the transition to elected rule in 1999, with regulations stipulating that the presidential candidate and his running mate should be from different regions.



Former President Jonathan, candidate of the People’s Democratic Party is a Christian from Bayelsa state in the southeast, close to the Niger Delta, where Nigeria’s oil is located. His vice president since 2011, Namadi Sambo, had been governor of Kaduna state, an area where Nigeria’s mainly Muslim north intersects with the mainly Christian south.



Kaduna, and nearby areas of central Nigeria, had been the site of violent clashes between Muslims and Christians after Buhari’s defeat in the 2011 election. But since then, there have been important efforts to build understanding between Muslims and Christians in this area and curtail violence. Yet, for the global media, conflict resolution is far less interesting than outbreaks of violence.



Buhari is the candidate of the All Progressives Congress, a new party formed in the wake of the 2011 election. He is from Katsina state in Nigeria’s far north, and a member of the Fulani, the Muslim group who supported the building of an Islamic state in north central and north-western Nigeria in the early 19th century. Descendants of that movement’s leaders still serve as traditional rulers in the Muslim north, notably Muhammadu Sa’ad Abubakar, the Sultan of Sokoto. He is a strong supporter of modern education and of interfaith dialogue – as illustrated by the fact that he was invited to speak on this topic at Harvard Divinity School in 2011. Buhari’s vice presidential candidate, Yemi Osinbajo, is a lawyer and a Pentecostal Christian from Nigeria’s commercial capital, Lagos.



 

Analysing the North’s Security Crisis



A major problem for Jonathan has been the Boko Haram rebellion in the northeast. Since 2009, the rebellion led by this Islamic movement has spun out of control. These rebels have only been pushed back since early March of this year with help from the armies of neighbouring countries, especially Chad. And it has needed the help of security contractors based in South Africa, who have also contributed to efforts at maintaining security in the Niger Delta.



Neither Buhari nor Jonathan produced an effective analysis of the problems underlying the security crisis in the north, which include the poor performance of the Nigerian armed forces. This stems not only from poor funding and lack of equipment, but also from the difficulties facing the army of a nation made up of hundreds of different ethnic groups fighting rebels who come mainly from one group, in this case the Kanuri. Inciting large scale defections, a key step towards defeating the rebels, requires local cultural skills. Neither candidate presented an effective understanding of the geopolitical and socio-economic problems underlying the rebellion, and ways to address these problems.



 

The Road Ahead



Nigeria has the largest population and the largest economy in Africa, so one might expect it to play a dynamic role in the continent’s politics. But a recent incident highlighted Jonathan’s shortcomings in this area. Nigerian government sources proclaimed that he had spoken at length by phone to Morocco’s King Muhammad VI, yet the Moroccan government denied this saying that the king had rejected Jonathan’s request for a discussion. Morocco then withdrew its ambassador.



But Buhari seems to have made no comment on this. When he was president in 1984, Nigeria recognised the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic set up as the government of what had been the Spanish controlled Western Sahara. But the territory was taken over by Morocco, and this remains a contentious issue. Buhari also took an aggressive stance against an intrusion by Chad into north-eastern Nigeria when he was president. Given Chad’s key role in that area today, memories of the earlier clash could bring trouble. 

The most serious problem facing Nigeria today is widespread poverty and ineffective government services in areas such as healthcare and education, above all in the predominantly Muslim north. Both candidates expressed concern for these problems, but neither presented an effective strategy to deal with them. The sharp decline of revenues from oil exports has made these problems more difficult to address.



In the area of healthcare, Nigeria has had one remarkable success recently, with the prevention of the spread of the Ebola virus after it was brought into the country from the epidemic’s centre in Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea, to the west of Nigeria. This showed how Nigerians, led by their medical professionals, could meet a serious challenge. Another area where they have had some success has been in developing a way to surgically repair the damage caused by fistula, a problem affecting young women married at an early age when they bear a child before being physically mature enough to do so.



 

Contributions by Civil Society



There is no surgical solution for young men who have been recruited into violent gangs such as Boko Haram in the northeast, or the Bakasi boys in the Niger Delta, but it may be possible to develop ways to bring them back into mainstream society through counselling and job training. Federal and state governments may have limited skill in this area, but voluntary organisations can prove effective. They can also be useful in addressing the larger problem of working with marginalised youth; both male and female, to provide them with the skills and resources needed to avoid becoming a child bride or a gang thug. The federal government can provide financial assistance in this area.



 

Sterling Contribution by the INEC



Technical skills have played a pivotal role in building the Independent National Election Commission, or INEC, which has been instrumental in developing the technology of electronic biometric tests to ensure that the person registered to vote is in fact the person voting. But the new technology introduced by the INEC had its glitches. One of their machines failed to confirm the identity of then President Goodluck Jonathan. Perhaps this was because he was smiling so brightly knowing that even if he lost the election he could return peacefully to his hometown and take up fishing from a boat driven by solar power!



The INEC successfully assisted in the vote counting process, and by March 31 it became clear that Buhari had won the election. The vote count helps to show both the challenges that Nigeria faces, and also its potential for overcoming the challenges. A dramatic aspect of the vote count is the small number of votes for Buhari in the southeast (in several states less than 5 percent), and his overwhelming majority in the far north (80 percent or more). But the central states and the southwest show a closer balance. They illustrate Nigeria’s potential for dialogue between religious and ethnic groups. The global media simply focus on the winner. They need to recognise the challenges for the winner shown in the statistics. 


 

Boring title, right?

Actually, the explosion of anger among the masses in North Africa (the “Maghreb”) in December-January 2010-2011 initially called the Arab Spring, which toppled three regimes in the region (Tunisia, Libya and Egypt), had roots in 1930s Algeria. Let me explain.

And by the way, this is the beginning of a series of three blogs on Rached Ghannouchi, that spin out of his book I am translating (Arabic to English), The Public Freedoms of the Islamic State. Ghannouchi is the founder (and still leader) of the islamist party Ennahda (“Renaissance”), which was voted into power in Tunisia on the heels of dictator Ben Ali’s desperate escape from the country. Ghannouchi wrote this book mostly as a political prisoner in the 1980s as a doctoral dissertation. Back to him later . . .

What we call “political Islam,” or islamism (I use the lower case ‘i’ to mark it off as an ideology), or the 20th-century movement to bring specific Islamic values into the sociopolitical sphere of the nation-state, goes back to the great modern Islamic reformer Muhammad Abduh (d. 1905). Abduh, who spent the last decade or his life as Egypt’s top cleric, or Grand Mufti, wanted a “modern” Islam that could help Muslims deal with the momentous and frightening changes wrought by Western colonialism. To accomplish this, he argued, you have to cut through all the dead wood, fanciful traditions and superstitions that accumulated over time, and learn from the luminaries of early Islam and the masters of its classical tradition. In one word, you turned to the salafs, or the “pious forbears.” Hence, Abduh labeled his thought salafi (see my blog, “Whence the Salafis?” for fuller treatment of this trend).

So the new salafi teaching that Abduh was able to establish at the most prestigious center of Islamic learning, Cairo’s al-Azhar University, spread to other centers around the world, and notably to the Zaytuna mosque complex in Tunis, where the Algerian reformer Ben Badis (d. 1940) went for training in the 1910s. His own efforts led to the founding of the Algerian Association of Muslim Ulama (“Islamic scholars”), or the AUMA in 1931, a movement that was sowing the seeds of Islamic reformism (islah) in this French territory.

[Note: Algeria was not a “French colony,” like Tunisia or Morocco. The French had simply annexed it in 1830, and native Algerians carried identity cards branding them as “French Muslims.” This was discrimination every bit as thorough and brutal as South African apartheid].

Meanwhile, a bright young Algerian man, Malek Bennabi (d. 1973), was sent to the town of Constantine, where the premier institute for training lawyers and clerks for the Islamic court system was located. By then, Bennabi, a voracious reader, had not only read Abduh’s magnum opus in Arabic, The Message of God’s Unity, but also anti-colonial writers like India’s Rabindranath Tagore in French. His morning ritual included perusing the French communist paper, LHumanité. Islam remained Bennabi’s compass and soul mate all his life, but he was also an Algerian nationalist through and through, with an insatiable curiosity for current events all over the globe. Long before the Non-Aligned Movement emerged, Bennabi was an internationalist.

How does a secular-leaning Muslim anti-colonial activist become an inspiration to a nascent islamist movement in neighboring Tunisia? That is what makes this story fascinating.

Ben Badis lived in Constantine and in his autobiography (in French, like most of his many books) Bennabi relates that he would often observe him walking to his office in the morning, as he and his friends sat in their café discussing the latest news. One day, though, he got up the courage to pay him a visit. As he recounts the meeting, it was a disappointment. Dressed in his Western attire, he was not even invited to sit down. The Shaykh in traditional scholarly garb listened to him politely as he waxed eloquent about Algerian independence and, among other items, the urgency of exploiting neglected farmlands. But Ben Badis stayed mostly silent.

Bennabi remained at least sympathetic to the Islamic reformist movement, but his driving passion was elsewhere. In 1930 he moved to France and obtained a degree in electrical engineering. And though he kept in touch with the political activities of his compatriots in the homeland, he was consumed by social issues, which he also discussed with members of a Catholic students club in Paris. There he made some lasting friends with peers who were doubly “other” to him – French and Christian. Alan Christelow, historian at Idaho State University, noted how these encounters helped to widen Bennabi’s horizons and develop a certain “ecumenical” spirit. He wrote this about him in a 1992 article:

 

“For Bennabi, dialogue between Islam and other civilizations was possible, indeed highly desirable, but such dialogue could not take place within an asymmetrical colonial framework.”

 

[For more on Algeria by Allan Christelow, see my blog reviewing his 2012 book around the theme of 19th-century patriot and Sufi Shaykh, the Emir Abd el-Kader]

After his graduation he married a French woman who converted to Islam and he began to write several books – some defending Islam (The Qur’anic Phenomenon, 1946), but most developing his thought as a self-taught philosopher of civilizations, like his seminal 1948 book, Les Conditions de la Renaissance (“Conditions for Renewal”).

Meanwhile, the Algerian resistance movement launched its guerilla war against French occupation of their nation in November 1954. Two years later, Bennabi went to Egypt, partly to join the patriots in exile and partly to improve his Arabic. President Gamal Abdel Nasser provided him with a stipend so he could spend his time writing. He stayed there until 1963, just a year after Algerian independence.

During those years, Bennabi lectured often in Arabic in Lebanon and Syria, as well as in Egypt, and developed a strong reputation as a thinker who could skillfully weave themes of anti-colonialism, Arab-Islamic pride, democracy and social justice. Further, he neither lost his passion for the dialog of civilizations, nor his thirst for knowledge. By then he was also reading about economic development, sociology and political science and blending his conclusions into a series of books.

More than anything, however, Bennabi was fascinated with the idea of civilization, and in particular, he wondered why after towering over other parts of the world for so long, Islamic civilization went into such a steep decline in the late medieval period. For an explanation, he looked to 14th-century historian, the Tunisian Ibn Khaldun (d. 1406), who is considered today as the forerunner of sociology, historiography, demography and economics, and who served as advisor to several rulers in North Africa and the Middle East of his time.

Here is a sample of Bennabi's thinking, quoting from an article I wrote, which appeared in the Maghreb Review in 2004 (“Fuzzy Reformist-Islamist Borders: Malek Bennabi and Rachid Ghannouchi on Civilization” (which you can now read in "ressources"):

 

“Significantly, Bennabi never writes about Shari’a. In fact he totally sidesteps the classical formulations of Islamic law (according to the various schools) and speaks only of the 'qur’anic spirit.' These are the values, he argues, that reflect the qur’anic virtues with which true Muslims should adorn themselves. Muhammad himself lay great stress on the moral virtues that form the bulwark of civilizations. A civilization can coast (or even expand for a while) on the basis of technology, science and reason, but without the strength of moral character ('l’âme seule permet à l’humanité de s’élever'), it will go downhill, lose its ascending force, 'drawn by an irresistible force of gravity.'

Here is Bennabi’s diagnosis:

‘When a society reaches this stage in its evolution, when the breath that gave it its first impulse ceases to animate it, the cycle comes to an end and that civilization makes its exodus to another arena (aire), where a new cycle begins, feeding on a new bio-historical synthesis. But in the arena that is vacated, the work of science loses all meaning. Whenever the outward radiance of the spirit ceases, rational work also ceases; it is as if the human person loses his or her thirst for understanding and the will to act—as soon as that momentum is lost, the 'tension of faith.' Reason disappears because its products perish in a milieu which can no longer understand or use them. Thus Ibn Khaldun’s work seemed to come too soon, or too late: it could no longer imprint itself on the Muslim genius which had already lost its own plasticity, its ability to progress, to renew itself. The qur’anic impulse progressively lost its momentum, and the Muslim world stopped like an engine that has consumed its last liter of gasoline’” (from his 1970 book, Le Problème des idées, pp. 25-6, my translation).

 

The other great contribution Bennabi made, as I see it, is his concept of “colonizability.” In his attempt to shake his fellow Muslims from what he saw as cultural and spiritual lethargy, he tackled several “myths.” One of those was, “we cannot move forward because of colonialism.” “Baloney!” he retorts. Well, actually, in his own words:

 

“There is an historical process that one should not neglect for fear of losing sight of the essence of things, of seeing only what they appear to be. This process does not begin by colonization, but rather by the colonizability that provokes it. In fact, to a certain extent, colonization is the most happy effect of colonizability because it inverts the social evolution that gave birth to the colonizable being in the first place: he only becomes aware of his colonizability once he is colonized. He then finds himself obligated to 'denativize' himself in order to become uncolonizable, and it is in this sense that one may understand colonization as an 'historical reality'” (Vocation de l’Islam, Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 1954, p. 83).

 

Bennabi’s loyalty to the cause of Algerian independence was rewarded as he came home in 1963. He was made Director of Higher Education and given the mission of guiding the nascent Algerian University of Algiers, as well as those that were being built from the ground up in other major cities. He also gathered around him a number of students who discussed his ideas and implemented them in their own projects in one way or another.

Bennabi was also influential in the founding of the first islamist organization in post-independence Algeria (1963), al-Qiyam (“Values”). Although the reformist leaders of the AUMA had stood and fought with others for independence, the main organ of the nationalist fight (FLN: Front for National Liberation) took charge of Algeria’s government from the start as a one-party authoritarian system, much like their mentors in Egypt. It was Muslim in name, but mostly secular in practice and socialist in ideology, and its leaders banned the AUMA.

Hence, Bennabi’s helped to establish the al-Qiyam movement. But right from the beginning, two tendencies emerged within it. The first was led by some of the religious scholars issued from the AUMA who also had close ties with the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt. Bennabi, by contrast, was a leader of the more pragmatic, nationalist and bilingual current.

Either way, the political movement focused on Islam was a threat to the ruling FLN party. They were closely watched, then seriously curtailed, then in 1970 they were banned.

By the 1980s, the leaders of the islamist movement that emerged at that time were all leaders who had been active with al-Qiyam. And by then Bennabi’s more reformist and pragmatic current had waned significantly.

Yet in the late 1960s, in neighboring Tunisia, a student movement was growing, which saw in Bennabi’s work the seeds of a political Islam that could bring democracy and positive socioeconomic development to their society. Rached Ghannouchi was already emerging as leader, and to him I will turn in the next post.

[This week I reconnected rather emotionally with Algeria, where I lived from 1978 to 1987, through an interview conducted in French with me and published in the daily Kabyle (the most influencial Berber tribe in Algeria) newspaper La Cité]

Who hasn’t at times confessed that if it weren’t for uncle so-and-so or aunt so-and-so, family reunions would be really nice? Families, like the wider concentric social circles growing around them, can be very diverse – ideologically, too, and even religiously.

We have good friends here from the Central African Republic. Like many other tribal groups in West Africa, their own extended family has Muslims and Christians, and until the recent civil strife, they all got along just fine.

But this one Egyptian family stands out, if only because one of them founded the first modern Islamic mass movement with a political edge – now called “islamism.” Hasan al-Banna (1906-1949) started the first cell of the Muslim Brotherhood in Ismailiyya, Egypt, in 1928. Though he had just recently arrived as a newly minted schoolteacher in that town midway on the Suez Canal, Banna preached in the cafés his version of spiritual renewal (he was also member of a Sufi brotherhood), taught basic Islamic doctrine and practice in adult evening classes he put together, started a couple of schools (one for boys, one for girls), and raised funds for other charitable projects among the town’s wealthier citizens.

Egypt in the 1920s was in the throes of revolutionary fervor. The Revolution of 1919 sparked continuous riots until in 1922 the British were forced to dissolve the Protectorate, while continuing to pull the political strings like a puppeteer from above. Then Muslims everywhere were shocked by the new Turkish ruler’s abolition of the Ottoman caliphate in 1924. And even worse than all that for an ardent young nationalist like Banna, Christian missionaries seemed to be everywhere starting schools, opening clinics, and even a university (American Presbyterians had just founded in 1919 the American University of Cairo). In some ways, the Muslim Brotherhood began as the mirror image of Western missionary activities in Egypt. Here is Banna himself commenting on these events in his diary:

 

“Mustafa Kamal had announced the abolition of the Caliphate . . . [in Cairo] it was thought that the Egyptian University could never be a secular university unless it revolted against religion and waged war against all social traditions which derived from Islam . . . I saw the social life of the beloved Egyptian people, oscillating between her dear and precious Islam which she had inherited, lived with during fourteen centuries, and this severe Western invasion which was armed and equipped with all the destructive influences of money, wealth, prestige, ostentation, power and means of propaganda.”

 

Meanwhile, he was often traveling to Cairo and elsewhere to begin and supervise other branches of his renewal movement. From my entry on the Muslim Brotherhood in the Encyclopedia of Islam and the Modern World (Macmillan, 2003; I was asked to update it for the 2nd edition coming out later this year):

 

“The society enjoyed phenomenal growth right from the start. Although it could boast only 5 branches in 1930, that number had jumped to 2,000 in 1949; by 1941 the society had become so influential that the British had the Egyptian prime minister arrest al-Banna and his lieutenant, Ahmad al-Sukkari, but he soon released them without British permission, fearing that their continued imprisonment would touch off a revolt that would topple his government.”

 

To say the least, Banna was an organizational genius, indefatigable visionary leader, and political whiz to boot! He was assassinated by government agents in 1949, victim of his own success, and hence, his inability to control a sprawling organization, and especially its “secret apparatus” (similar to other militias at the time that took inspiration from the Hitler youths). Somebody connected to the Society of Muslim Brothers had recently assassinated the Prime Minister. Banna was then eliminated.

 

Jamal al-Banna (1920-2013)

None of that was new ground for me, but in writing this book (Justice and Love: A Muslim-Christian Conversation) I discovered Hasan’s youngest brother Jamal for the first time. In an obituary in an English-language Egyptian newspaper, writer Noha El-Hennawy describes Gamal (the Arabic “j” in Egypt turns to “g”) as “the antithesis” of his brother Hasan. She’s not far off the mark.

Unlike his illustrious brother, he was sent to secular schools, dropped out of high school, but went on to study commerce at a technical school. His learning didn’t stop there, though. In fact, though Hasan wrote about fifteen books (and most of them were long tracts), his brother Jamal was a prolific author of over eighty books, most of them dealing with Islam and society.

Yet Jamal was self-taught, not a product of the prestigious Sunni center of learning in Cairo, al-Azhar University. His objective was to refute what he considered rigid and outdated rules from the past, while using the ulamas’ methods and writing in a way that the common people could understand. He also devoted many books to disprove the tenets of islamism. Though he always showed respect for his brother, he openly disagreed with the goals and practices of the Muslim Brotherhood – more on that below.

Jamal, like his elder, was an activist. Unlike him, his efforts were mostly in the Egyptian trade union movement, in which he became one the great leaders in the second half of the twentieth century. He was a forceful advocate for social justice, human rights, and especially, women’s rights. El-Hennawy calls him “a feminist at heart.” In particular, he argued from the Qur’an that there was no obligation for women to cover their hair and no impediment for women running for political office, even for head of state. And he was especially critical of traditional Islamic scholarship regarding the Sunna, the “exemplary model” of the Prophet’s words and deeds. Few hadiths (individual reports gathered in the main nine authoritative collections) are actually authentic, he claimed.

Eminent Egyptian sociologist Saad Eddin Ibrahim, who also paid for his human rights activism with three years in prison (1999-2002), convened an “Islamic Reform” conference in Cairo in 2004. In his opening address, he saluted Banna, and as he does, notice what he says about 9/11 (keep in mind that the ME has always been rife with conspiracy theories):

 

“Among the first to recognize the Muslims’ crisis among modern Muslims was our great brother Jamal Al-Banna. Ever since he joined the board of the Ibn Khaldun Center, he has been insisting that we take the initiative in the challenging battle of reforming Islamic thought to renew it, and to reach a living, ever-changing jurisprudence that fits the spirit of this age and adapts to its speedy changes.

Brother Jamal Al-Banna’s insistence transformed into a deafening shout as I sat in my prison cell in Turra, after the horrifying events of September, as I read about what he wrote on those events. He did not bow to the misguided mainstream that had somehow engulfed the Arabs and Muslims, who either were in denial that the attacks had taken place or that some Muslims were responsible. He did not deny nor doubt either fact. He repeated his mantra: reform, reform, reform.”

 

One last quote by Jamal al-Banna, and for this purpose I’ll just lift this paragraph from my manuscript:

 

“A strong critic of western-led globalization and the iron rule of transnational corporations, as well as the moral decay eating away at western societies, al-Banna ends up a stronger critic of the moral complacency, political corruption and rampant injustice within Muslim countries themselves. Ironically, he writes, more justice finds its way in the mechanics and dynamics of western democratic societies. Yet Muslims should know better, he moans. And then this memorable phrase—a jarring phrase, indeed—calculated to impel Muslims to action: 'It may well be that Islam is alive in a land that ignores its name, a land in which the banner of the cross is unfurled, more than in a land that raises the banner of the crescent.'”

 

The enigmatic Tariq Ramadan (b. 1962)

Said Ramadan was one of Hasan al-Banna’s right-hand men and he became his son-in-law. The great “persecution” (mihna) of 1954 – when the military junta purged the government of all Brotherhood members, executing six top leaders and sending thousands to prison – scattered the movement abroad. After several years in Saudi Arabia, where he participated in the founding of the Muslim World League, Ramadan settled in Switzerland, where he founded the Islamic Center of Geneva in 1961, which his son Hani (b. 1959) continues to lead today.

While Hani has written several books on Islam in French (his center, because of its Brotherhood connections, was put on a US terrorist list – and may well remain there today), his younger brother Tariq seems to have found more inspiration from his great uncle Jamal. After obtaining a PhD in philosophy from the University of Geneva (his dissertation was on Nietsche), he spent some time studying at al-Azhar University with tutors one on one, where he obtained several certificates in Islamic science disciplines.

Tariq Ramadan taught philosophy for a while at the University of Freiburg; then in 2004 he accepted a full professorship in Religion, Conflict and Peacebuilding at Notre Dame University, but his US visa was subsequently revoked by the US authorities, citing the “ideological exclusion provision” based on the Patriot Act. He was alleged to have contributed to a Palestinian charity that had ties with Hamas. The lower district court’s decision was reversed by a court of appeals in 2009 and Ramadan had this to say,

 

“The U.S. government's actions in my case seem, at least to me, to have been arbitrary and myopic. But I am encouraged by the unwavering support I have received from ordinary Americans, civic groups and particularly from scholars, academic organizations, and the ACLU. I am heartened by the emerging debate in the U.S. about what has been happening to our countries and ideals in the past six years. And I am hopeful that eventually I will be allowed to enter the country so that I may contribute to the debate and be enriched by dialogue.”

 

Ramadan is undoubtedly Europe’s most visible Muslim, appearing on television interviews in France, the UK and elsewhere, and a popular speaker at venues where young Muslims gather (he tweets in French, Arabic and English to close to 300,000 followers!). Founder and president of the European Muslim network, he often advises European politicians on religious matters at the EU headquarters in Brussels.

Ramadan is also controversial, as you might gather if you know anything about Europeans and Islam. Many have called him two-faced, or a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He faces Muslims’ criticisms too. Though he is invited to speak all over the Muslim world, he is clearly beyond the pale for many more conservative Muslims, Salafis and other staunch textualists – and of course, Muslim Brotherhood sympathizers (I wonder how he and his brother Hani carry on at family dinners!).

Yet, having read several of his books along the way, I see him using traditional Islamic methodologies to try and convince traditional Muslims to see their faith from a fresh perspective. In 2005 he issued a declaration in the form of a small book published by Oxford University Press (since 2009 he has been a Professor of Contemporary Islamic Studies at Oxford University), “An International Call for a Moratorium on Corporal Punishment, Stoning and the Death Penalty in the Islamic World.” Then in 2009 his book Radical Reform: Islamic Ethics and Liberation came out. The next year he published The Quest for Meaning: Developing a Philosophy of Pluralism.

Ramadan was a plenary speaker at the 2009 American Academy of Religion annual meeting in Montreal. Since it was in Canada, he could attend. I was there as well and I lined up after his talk to speak to him. We spoke in French, knowing that it was his “heart language” (his accent is almost Parisian, with no trace of the Swiss lilt). I showed him a proof of my book, Earth, Empire and Sacred Text. He said, “I would very much like to have a copy of that.” He wrote down his mailing address at Oxford for me to send him the book.

Tariq Ramadan is not so enigmatic to me. Sure, he knows how to tailor his message to each of his audiences. At times he ferociously defends his fellow Muslims who in Europe are often put down, stigmatized and criminalized; at other times, he’s like a pied piper, playing his tunes of revivalist Islam with a tinge of liberation theology to woo young Muslims away from extremist screeds on the internet.

Tariq is also the philosopher of The Quest for Meaning who takes his readers on an ocean voyage in which the human quest finds commonalities in all the world’s philosophies and literature, in Eastern religions and the monotheistic faiths – each one peering through the window of her own soul, upbringing and faith, to discover others on the ocean peering out of their own windows and now in conversation. The book is both rational and mystical, and really quite accessible to the average reader, but likely baffling to the average Muslim reader. When he writes “pluralism,” he means “theological pluralism” (there is only one Absolute Reality and many paths leading to it).

Tariq, unlike his brother Hani, is marching to the drumbeat of his great uncle Jamal; but unlike him, he’s on the world stage, projecting his voice, his pen and his ideas to a global audience.

I don’t think his grandfather Hasan could even understand where he’s coming from – or where he’s going. But then again, Hasan lived in a very different world. I’m guessing, had Hasan lived several decades more, he would not have been on speaking terms with his brother Jamal.

Jamal, just two months before his death had this to say in an interview. Asked in December 2012 where the Morsi presidency was going, he answered with these prophetic words,

 

“The mistake of the Revolution is that there is no room for individual freedom. The politics of the leader is against that of the masses. The situation is very bad. Before the Muslim Brotherhood took charge it was bad, but now it is even worse. The minds of the people are not developed. Their way of thinking is bourgeois, not revolutionary. They are professors and lawyers whose understanding is bourgeois. We are now seeing a reaction to the revolution and this revolution is far from a traditional revolution. People are disappointed and the leader is a tyrant. People want the regime down.”

This is the second out of three blogs devoted to my manuscript, which, as of this writing, has been sent out to anonymous reviewers by the publisher – Justice and Love: A Muslim-Christian Conversation.

In the first one we looked at the main Christian source for this book, Yale philosopher Nicholas Wolterstorff. For him, justice is about the inherent dignity of people, by virtue of their creation in God’s image and their being deeply loved by God, to the point of sending his own Son to die on a cross for their salvation. That dignity translates into inalienable rights, argues Wolterstorff, and justice consists in finding ways to make sure that all receive what is rightly theirs – a seemingly impossible task in a world ripped apart by outrageous inequalities.

Now we look at the Muslim author whose writing and action, starting in 2007, initiated a sea change in Muslim-Christian relations – at least potentially, and this book wants to add to that impact. This is Jordan’s Prince Ghazi bin Muhammad (b. 1966), son of Prince Muhammad bin Talal.

Here I just want to cover three points about his writing: love is central to the Qur’anic revelation; the Common Word letter on love and justice; a short summary of his big book, now in its seventh edition, Love in the Holy Qur’an, and what it says about love and justice.

 

Islam is primarily about love

In a book about the Common Word letter he co-edited with Yale theologian Miroslav Volf, Prince Ghazi in one chapter responded to criticisms he had received about the letter (Volf did the same in responding to Christian critiques). The last criticism out of seven was this: that it was a concession to Christians by framing traditional Islamic discourse in the language of “love.” This was a common objection by Muslims, he wrote, but it also displays a glaring ignorance of their own faith tradition. In his words,

 

". . . this frequently underestimated aspect of our religion: the Grand Principle of Love. Indeed, the Holy Qur’an uses over fifty near-synonyms for love; English does not have the same linguistic riches and connotations, as was discussed in particular during the Yale workshop and conference in July 2008. If Muslims do not usually use the same language of love as English-speaking Christians, it is perhaps because the word 'love' for Muslims frequently implies something different for Muslims than it does for Christians.

            Our use of the language of love in ‘A Common Word’ is simply, then, a recognition that human beings have the same souls everywhere, however pure or corrupted, and thus that the experience of love must have something in common everywhere, even if the objects of love are different, and even if the ultimate love of God is stronger than all other loves."

 

But there’s an edge to this . . . Muslims continue to feel the sting of Christian polemics over the centuries which indict Islam as a religion of law and justice, but devoid of love. George Washington University professor Seyyed Hossein Nasr, arguably “one of the most important and foremost scholars of Islamic, Religious and Comparative Studies in the world today” (a quote from his website), wrote the Foreword to Ghazi’s book. “Love is in fact one of the central themes of the Noble Qur’an,” he asserts, “whatever naysayers, whether non-Muslims or even some Muslims who see only the external dimension of things, may assert.” Then this recommendation of Ghazi’s book:

 

“This unique work, therefore, is of great importance not only for Muslims, who at the present moment are so much in need of a deeper understanding of their religion and realization of the central importance of the Prophetic virtues of love, compassion, mercy and forgiveness, but also for non-Muslims and especially Westerners. For too long Western critics of Islam have asserted that while Christians view God as Love, Muslims hold the view of God as a vengeful God who emphasizes His justice alone at the expense of his Love and Mercy. This false and malicious view of the Islamic conception of God has been propagated over and over in orientalist writings and also asserted again and again by Christian missionaries who preach to those Muslims who would listen to them that the Islamic emphasis upon the Divine Attributes of Justice eclipses and nullifies the reality of the Divine Attributes of Love, Compassion and Mercy. The present book is a powerful response to this erroneous but prevalent view that is such a major obstacle to better understanding between the two religions.”

 

But before delving more into that book, let’s have a look at the Common Word letter. As penned by Ghazi, it is mostly about love for God and love for neighbor. That said, justice is still in the background.

 

Love and justice in the Common Word

You will remember that this was an open letter to the Pope (Benedict XVI) and “to all Christian leaders.” World peace will be unattainable unless Christians and Muslims, who form more than half of humanity, seek reconciliation after centuries of conflict. The good news is that what the two faiths have in common is at the very core of their traditions: love of God and love of neighbor. That’s the central message of the letter. And on the periphery you can find several interesting clues relative to justice.

Here I’ll take you directly to the conclusion, when Ghazi comments on the following verse: “Say (Muhammad): I am no new thing among the messengers (of God), nor know I what will be done with me or with you I do but follow that which is Revealed to me and I am but a plain warner” (46:9):

 

“Thus also God in the Holy Qur’an confirms that the same eternal truths of the Unity of God, of the necessity for total love and devotion to God (and thus shunning false gods), and of the necessity for love of fellow human beings (and thus justice), underlie all true religion:

[First, it quotes Q. 16: 36, then this verse:] ‘We verily sent Our messengers with clear proofs, and revealed with them the Scripture and the Balance, that mankind may stand forth in justice….’” (57:25).

 

Ghazi believes that love for one’s fellow humans includes justice. And then, at the end, after quoting Q. 16: 90 (“Lo! God enjoineth justice and kindness, and giving to kinsfolk . . .”), the letter mentions Mat. 5:9 (“Blessed are the peacemakers . . .”) and then comes the last sentence, “Let us respect each other, be fair, just and kind to another and live in sincere peace, harmony and mutual goodwill.” All these virtues, including respect and justice, come together under the umbrella of love, and produce “peace, harmony and mutual goodwill.”

 

Prince Ghazi’s Love in the Holy Qur’an

This man who graduated from Princeton University summa cum laude was already gripped by the idea of love at the time. “Love” was on his radar as a Comparative Literature major there, and he went on to Cambridge University for a PhD in that field. His dissertation title was “What Is Falling in Love? A Study of the Literary Archetype of Love.” Finally, he enrolled in what is considered by many as the first Islamic university in the world, the 10th-century Al-Azhar University of Cairo, traditionally considered as the most prestigious center of Islamic Sciences. Love in the Holy Qur’an is the product of that second doctorate.

As you might expect, this is a modern version of a scholastic treatise, but it remains very traditional, just the same. I call this a “literalistic” approach: the book is probably 90% quotations from the Qur’an, the hadith, and the classical Islamic commentators. The rest is Ghazi’s own skillful weaving of all this material in the service of his own thesis: that love is indeed central to God’s revelation in the Qur’an.

I don’t have the space here to go into any detail, but just to give you a taste of how justice and love interact. This mostly comes up in Chapter 17, “Love of Others (All Humanity; The ‘People of the Scripture’; Believers and Friends).”

Since all human beings were “created from a single soul” (e.g., Q. 6:98) and since they all descend from one pair, Adam and Eve; and finally, since the diversity of languages, ethnicities and cultures are among the Divine Signs (ayät) (Q. 30:22; 49:13), “God values every single soul as if it were all humanity, when it comes to saving its life or not causing its death” (Q. 5:32). After quoting several other verses, he notes, “Thus God commands Muslims to be peaceful and to be just toward every single human being, except those who wage war upon them, destroy their places of worship and drive them out of their homes.”

After three more pages of Qur’anic quotes, Ghazi offers this summary. Note here the connection between justice, forgiveness and rights:

 

“In summary: God has given each and every human being inalienable rights, and has obliged Muslims to have respect for all human beings; not to commit aggression against anyone; to be peaceful and to be just; to be merciful; to empathize with all human beings; to forgive them; to pardon them; to restrain themselves from anger; and even to repay evil deeds with kindness and “turn the other cheek” – and to do this with all people, whoever they may be and regardless of their faith (or lack of it) all the times, so long as they are not first waging war against Muslims.”

 

Here you have Ghazi unwittingly agreeing with Nicholas Wolterstorff that God endowed all human beings at creation with “inalienable rights” and has as a result enjoined on us all to act toward one another with profound respect, mercy, kindness and even repaying evil with kindness and “turning the other cheek.” That last phrase is an innovation in Islamic literature. Ghazi, after all, knows the gospels well and he’s made an admirable effort to bridge the gap between the two communities.

And then, after a two-page summary of quotations on the People of the Book (Jews and Christians, primarily), Ghazi concludes with this statement:

 

“God enjoins upon Muslims – in addition to having respect, justice and mercy in general towards all humanity – to have affection and admiration for the People of the Scripture in general (notably Christians and Jews). God says in the Holy Qur’an that the Jews were His most favoured people and that Muslims have a special affinity with Christians in particular; and God knows best.”

 

Love was not mentioned in any of the Qur’anic verses cited, so it doesn’t figure here. But notice how justice is paired with mercy, and that “affection and admiration” should be the hallmarks of Muslim attitudes toward Jews and Christians.

I end here, but not without looking you in the eye, dear reader, and saying, “do you realize how this Jordanian prince has invested his considerable assets? Not only his wealth, prestige, and influence … but his intellectual gifts?” His cousin, King Abdullah, convened an international conference in Jordan in September 2013 specifically to address the Christian exodus from the Middle East. Ghazi was influential in that initiative (see my first blog on the Christian exodus from the region).

Amidst the terribly negative publicity Muslims tend to receive in our media these days, would you be willing to counter that image with friends and acquaintances and actively build bridges between these two faith communities – thus directly contributing to peacebuilding in our conflict-ridden world? Prince Ghazi’s efforts should inspire us all!

As you can see from the sidebar on my homepage and as you found out last month if you follow me on Twitter, I have recently finished my manuscript, which is now called, Justice and Love: A Muslim-Christian Conversation. In this and the next 2 blogs, I want to summarize three important aspects of the book. Here I look at Yale philosopher Nicholas Wolterstorff’s recent work on justice and how it feeds into this project. [I featured Wolterstorff on my blog, “Jesus and Justice”]

Next time I’ll come back to Prince Ghazi bin Muhammad of Jordan, examining his contribution to the 2007 Common Word letter and his book Love in the Qur’an (on this see my blog “Defining Power” ) Finally, we’ll explore the fascinating connections between three thinkers and activists, two of whom are blood relatives (Jamal al-Banna and Tariq Ramadan), and the third who ended up staying most faithful to Hasan al-Banna (Jamal’s older brother and Tariq’s grandfather).

The former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, organized several Muslim-Christian conferences and the fifth one took place in 2006 at Georgetown University in Washington, DC. The edited book containing the papers presented was entitled, Justice and Rights: Muslim and Christian Perspectives (Georgetown U. Press, 2009). Its editor, Michael Ipgrave, wrote in his Introduction, “Justice is recognized by Christians and Muslims as one of the defining characteristics of God and sought by them as his purpose for a world that is manifestly unjust.”

Yet while Islam has a venerable and extensive tradition of religious law, Christians built on the foundation of Roman law and developed canon law in the 12th century, with Gracian as the author of its most influential work, Decretum (1140). But religious law is mostly a marginal concern in the Christian tradition, and this is partly why international law, which has grown out of the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), has seemed more foreign to Muslims. The other reason why many Muslims have expressed reservations about it is that historically the UDHR builds on Western Enlightenment ideals at a time when Muslim-majority nations were barely emerging from under the yoke of Western colonialism.

Still, there was much convergence among both Muslim and Christian scholars about the connection between justice and human rights. That idea, coupled with the historic Common World letter addressed by top Muslim scholars to Christian leaders on the centrality of love in both traditions, is actually what brought me to this project. But the connection came to me from another book, Wolterstorff’s Justice: Rights and Wrongs (Princeton U. Press, 2008), and then from its companion volume, Justice in Love (Eerdmans, 2011).

Writing both as a Christian and as a philosopher in the analytic philosophy tradition, Wolterstorff argues that justice is about giving each person her due, or right, and that contrary to much of the literature over the ages, this is in full harmony with the imperative of love. In fact, agape love, the love God demonstrated for us in Jesus, and the love he enjoins on us, includes justice. As Wolterstorff puts it in the Preface of Justice in Love, these two imperatives come to us from Antiquity:

 

“One is the imperative to do justice, coming to us from both the Athens-Rome strand of our heritage and the Jerusalem strand. “Do justice,” said the prophet Micah in a well-known passage. The ancient Roman jurist Ulpian said that we are to render to each person his or her right or due (ius). The other imperative comes to us only from the Jerusalem strand: love your neighbor as yourself, even if that neighbor is an enemy. Do not return evil for evil, said Jesus.” (Justice in Love, Preface, vii)

 

Wolterstorff defines justice as acting toward each person in a way that reflects his worth. It’s about inherent, inalienable human rights. In this book, then, as I follow him, I am not directly concerned with distributive justice (mitigating economic inequality or fostering greater political participation for those on the margins), retributive justice (setting up a just penal system for those who commit crimes), or procedural justice (making sure that all parts and procedures of a state’s justice system work efficiently and fairly), though talk of a “just society” involves all of that, to be sure. This project is about primary justice – defining what is “justice” is and grounding it, not in some kind of natural order or social contract (“justice as right order”) but in certain rights that belong to human beings as human beings.

I agree with Wolterstorff that a social order is “just insofar as its members enjoy the goods to which they have rights.” Those rights fall into two categories: rights conferred on people by the issuing of legislation or even religious rulings; and natural rights that are neither conferred by any human or divine authority, but are inherent to humans qua humans.

Historically, the modern notion of human rights grew out of two of the most brutal wars in human history, but as I have argued elsewhere, it also points for Christians, Muslims and Jews to a theology of creation. As Christians in particular, we are reminded that, beyond the Christian affirmation of a fall from grace in Genesis 3, humanity appeared in Genesis 1 as the apex of a manifold creation that God declared “very good.” From that passage we learn that only humankind was made in God’s image and that part of that privilege was the mandate to manage the rest of creation as his stewards or trustees.

More, we read that God and humanity were joined by a bond of intimate love from the start, tragically broken by the fall. This is symbolized in the story of God coming to the Garden and calling out to Adam and Eve, ready to join them in their daily stroll. It was not to be, for they were hiding, ashamed of themselves. The rest of the Bible, then, tells of a loving God who unfolds his plan of redemption in order to restore that intimate relationship of love.

That is why I agree with Wolterstorff’s suggestion that it is God’s love for his human creatures that grounds the notion of human rights. This is also made more plausible from a Muslim viewpoint after the Common Word letter, as we will see in the next blog.

Just the same, tying human worth by virtue of creation to natural rights is debatable. One of America’s most respected theologians, Duke University’s Stanley Hauerwas, has argued against this notion in a lecture delivered at Emory University last year (watch it here). Though he applauds the ways in which rights have provided protection for the most vulnerable and have often been used to foster peacebuilding around the world, he doesn’t believe they can be “grounded” theologically. And, by the way, Hauerwas will be delivering a plenary address at this year’s annual meeting of the Society of Vineyard Scholars at our church in Media, PA next week. This will be followed by a panel on this theme and his paper is virtually the same as the one he delivered at Emory last year. And, truth be told, parts of this blog come from my own paper in response :)

Unsurprisingly, Hauerwas has mixed feelings about Wolterstorff’s account of rights. Part of it has to do with his genealogy of rights. And relatedly, it touches on a contrast between justice as right order and justice as natural rights or inherent human worth. Let me explain. For Wolterstorff, there are two main clashing narratives that seek to account for the origin of rights, as they are now commonly understood. The first is the “declinist” view, and it is the one favored by proponents of justice as right order, like Alasdair McIntyre, Oliver O’Donovan, and, presumably John Milbank (see his attempt to refute Wolterstorff), and Hauerwas to some extent.

Roughly, it begins with William of Ockham’s abundant use of the Latin ius (or “right”) to refer to natural rights, but whose nominalism led him to defend “natural” subjective rights and thereby promote an atomistic view of human society. Naturally, in this line of thinking, the great Western crisis came when Hobbes, Locke and their Enlightenment colleagues put to use this rights discourse to create political liberalism. Citizens were now seen as bearers of natural rights and the state’s mission was to make sure those rights were respected without infringing upon their fellow citizens’ rights.

This narrative stands in contrast to its rival, which for Wolterstorff is to be found in the recent works of medievalists Brian Tierney and his student Charles J. Reid, Jr., who argue that . . .

 

". . . a sophisticated understanding of rights [were] already operative in the legal systems of twelfth and thirteenth century Europe. This understanding of rights would become part of the medieval jus commune, the common law of Europe, that would in turn inform the polemical works of William of Ockham and the writings of early modern philosophers and theologians – figures as diverse and seminal in their own right as John Locke and John Calvin."

 

In turn, this idea that a person in need has a claim upon any fellow human who is able to help goes back to the Church Fathers. In fourth century Antioch, for example, the great preacher John Chrysostom in several sermons commenting on Jesus’ parable of Lazarus and the rich man declared that to withhold one’s possessions from the poor was to rob them. He added,

 

“We show mercy on [the poor man] not because of his virtue but because of his misfortune. . . . I beg you remember this without fail, that not to share our own wealth with the poor is theft from the poor and deprivation of their means to life; we do not possess our own wealth but theirs.”

 

The declinist narrative, then, dismisses natural rights as a contentious, selfish grabbing of rights at the expense of others. At worst, in our contemporary American society that worships at the twin shrines of capitalism and the almighty dollar, rights are about leveraging the justice system so we can sue our neighbor at the least pretext. At best, this liberal democratic view of rights is a pragmatic way of ordering society, while trying to minimize the harm likely to visit its most vulnerable members.

The other narrative, then, seeks to tap into the Christian tradition of justice in the Old and New Testaments as respect for the inherent worth of each person created in God’s image and dearly beloved in his eyes. What is more, adds Wolterstorff, justice as right order (or rights as assigned by the state) and justice as inalienable rights are in fact complementary and not at all incompatible. That’s why love and justice have to be linked.

This leads me to my last point, a practical one (a longer version of this is found in my Chapter 5). Doing justice will involve the church in political actions at some level or another. Here is a local and personal example. My wife and I live with my 88-year-old mother-in-law who has an aide come every night to care for her. One of the aides is an African American woman living in Chester just five miles from here, a predominantly black town of 34,000 right on the Delaware river. According to NeighborhoodScout.com, it is the second most violent community in America, just after Camden, NJ, just across the Delaware from Philadelphia. Early in January 2014 her 20-year-old son was shot dead in the street and till this day, like for so many others, her family has no idea who murdered him. He was not part of a gang, didn’t take or sell drugs. He was actually a talented rapper who still lived at home.

Last summer this lady told me there was going to be an organized protest against illegal weapons possession. It would be a march that Saturday from Chester to Media, the county seat, organized by the nonprofit organization, Delaware County United for Sensible Gun Policy. Their main platform is to call for universal background checks, a seemingly uncontroversial path to limiting straw sales that cause guns to proliferate on the streets. I told her I would go. As promised, I arrived at the meeting place by the Martin Luther King, Jr. historical marker. During the three years King was studying at Crozer Theological Seminary at the time just down the street, he also served as assistant pastor at this Calvary Baptist Church.

After a couple of speeches and instructions about the march, about a hundred of us made our way through Chester to the Chester East Side Ministries property. There on the lawn were planted over sixty crosses displaying T-shirts, each one with the name of the youth killed by gun violence, the date of the murder and the age of the victim (see photo above). I don’t have time to tell about the rest of the march, but I do want to ask, “What would King who spoke of humanity as the ‘beloved community’ think of Chester today?” King, after all, was fond of speaking of each person bearing God-given inalienable rights, so that “injustice anywhere was a threat to justice everywhere.”

Gun violence in Chester or in any American urban center is an injustice with complex ramifications and with a genealogy that includes the human propensity to greed and violence; also a past marred by slavery, Jim Crow laws, racial discrimination and a tangle of laws that allow the quality of education to be determined by a community’s income level, and much more.

No simple solutions, but justice and love require us to care enough about our neighbors both as individuals and as communities caught in a web of laws that at times need reforming. The good news of God’s kingdom in the person of Jesus Christ somehow must transform both the individual and her wider context. King’s “beloved community” also resonates with our Muslim brothers and sisters (Chester has 3 mosques and I am close to one of the imams). So we have a common mission cut out for us!

King’s practice of justice – and Wolterstorff would agree – was a statement about God’s infinite love making each human person worthy of respect and, I submit, of inherent rights.

You can’t escape it. Watch the news on TV or look at any paper’s headlines these days and you’ll read about the latest atrocities committed by the “Islamic State,” ISIL, ISIS or Da’esh (Arabic acronym).

Before I dive into the heart of the issue, I want to recommend some good reading on “The Islamic State.” The glamorous Queen Rania of Jordan summarized what most Muslims have said the world over – “drop the ‘I’ in ISIS; there’s nothing Islamic about them.” President Obama said as much himself.

Enter Graeme Wood and his 10,000-word article in the Atlantic Monthly, “What ISIS Really Wants.” I’ll be referring to this article later, but let me say here that Wood’s quote that ISIS was “smack in the middle of the [Islamic] medieval tradition” caused quite a stir. That they (selectively) use lots of early Islamic texts – more so hadiths than the Qur’an – and consider themselves “the true Muslims” and those who disagree with them apostates (the action of takfir) is beyond question. And too, that Muslim scholars and leaders may not excommunicate them (i.e., engage in takfir against them) is also true. Muslims have done just that many times over the centuries, but the Amman Message (2005) signed by leaders representing over 90% of Muslims worldwide strictly forbids it (on this see my recent blog on the ulama). But they read the Islamic tradition is a way that is very different from the mainstream. That indeed is the point of using the term “extremism.”

For a short yet incisive statement of this point, see Boston University scholar Kecia Ali’s article. For a much more nuanced statement by the scholar Wood quotes from the most (“the leading expert”), see an interview with Princeton’s Bernard Haykel. For a substantive piece on how ISIS tramples on all the basic notions of religious authority in Islamic law, see Sohaira Sadidqqi’s contribution to Jadaliyya (a great resource for critical thinking on the Middle East, by the way). Finally, here’s an American imam (an anglo convert, Joe Bradford) who puts ISIS in Islamic historical perspective without an ounce of defensiveness or apologetic posturing.

One last remark by a former top-level CIA operative in the Middle East and respected analyst, Graham Fuller. At the start of the year he offered his five predictions for 2015 inthe Middle East. The first was about ISIS, about which he opines that it’s not a viable state and that for reasons both internal and external it will crumble on its own. He adds, “To be convincingly and decisively defeated, the idea of ISIS, as articulated and practiced, needs to demonstrably fail on its own and in the eyes of Muslims of the region.”

Now I want to get to the Islamic State’s eschatology, but with just one preliminary thought on violence. Jeffry R. Halverson, a young Islamicist at Carolina Coastal University, expanded on something I have mentioned in passing before. With all this hype about violence at the hands of ISIS, we forget the context out of which this violence emerged. Our 2003 invasion of Iraq helped to create the al-Qaeda branch led by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, which already was beheading hostages (remember Nick Berg?). The American assassination of Zarqawi didn’t stop that organization from evolving gradually from Iraq to Syria, when in time the vacuum created by the civil war gave rise to a new and more radical version of the original terrorist group. But there’s a wider lesson here:

 

“Human beings have a problem with violence. That’s the real truth. I know we like to think we’re advanced, especially in the developed world with its wealth and technology. But we’re still just as violent (sorry, Steven Pinker). The difference now is the developed world believes violence is “legitimate” only when performed by the official armies (or drones) of nation-states. The modern nation-state claims a monopoly on violence. Non-state actors, on the other hand, are illegitimate, abhorrent and barbaric. You have to follow proper channels.”

 

Eminent American theologian Stanley Hauerwas in his 2011 book, War and the American Difference, argues that WWI provided a kind of redemption for the American psyche from the horrors of its own civil war and since then has been addicted to war. In his words, “War is a moral necessity for America because it provides the experience of the ‘Unum’ that makes the ‘pluribus’ possible. War is America’s central liturgical act necessary to renew our sense that we are a nation unlike other nations.” President Eisenhower, himself a warrior, also warned about the unholy alliance of capitalism and war in his expression, “the industrial-military complex.” That said, the USA is not unique in this. Violence is a human problem, ever since Cain killed his brother Abel.

So does it make a big difference if violence is committed in the name of a deity? In Syria and Iraq, where ISIS is located, violence is perpetrated by a ruthless and cruel dictator who uses chemical weapons and cluster bombs on his own people; by an international coalition which bombs ISIS on a daily basis; by the Kurds, Iraqi soldiers and Shia militia with Iranian support who engage ISIS with ground troops. Does the religious label make the violence any better or any worse? Halverson presses his point with irony:

 

“Within this framework, violence in the name of a deity is outrageous, but violence in the name of a flag, freedom, democracy and (let’s face it) capitalism is a sacred duty (with its own martyrs), or at the very least a pragmatic necessity in a dog-eat-dog world. And you can get medals. The close relationship between ‘legitimate’ violence and nationalism also skews or even absolves the role that religion plays in these acts of violence.”

 

Enough said. But there might be something ominous about religion focused on a particular view of how God is winding down human history, especially if people feel that God has called them and their people to help make that happen by any means necessary!

 

The End Times in the ISIS ideology

Unlike other jihadi groups, the Islamic State is obsessed with the End Times. The Iraqi branch of al-Qaeda, already under the leadership of Zarqawi, was always talking eschatology. Will McCants of the Brookings Institution, now writing a book on this topic, tells of one of their members going to bin Laden in 2008 with the complaint that the leaders in Iraq were making strategic decisions based on when they thought the Mahdi (the messianic figure all Muslims, Shia and Sunni, believe will come in last days) will come. Bin Laden gave him a message to take back to the Iraqi militants: “Cut it out!”

The basic apocalyptic storyline includes the prediction that twelve legitimate caliphs will arise (al-Baghdadi sees himself as #8). One particular hadith says that a great battle will take place in Dabiq, Syria, which today is a small rural town not far from Aleppo. Da’esh conquered that whole area very intentionally and at great cost last year. It is said that the caliph’s enemy, “Rome,” will attack his army there.

If you think that’s far-fetched, this thinking is all over Da’esh’s social media presence. In fact, their online publication is entitled “Dabiq.” The masked executioner last December, just before beheading Peter Kassig, said, “Here we are, burying the first American crusader in Dabiq, eagerly waiting for the remainder of your armies to arrive.”

Mind you, as Wood shows, even in Da’esh ranks, there are disagreements as to who this “Rome” might be. It might be a code word for the western Christian world, which of course includes the USA, but it might also be Rome’s western capital built by the Emperor Constantine, today’s Istanbul. Turkey’s Attatürk, after all, dissolved the last caliphate over ninety years ago. One scenario is that the caliphate would defeat the Turkish army and then move on to sack Istanbul and expand in a spectacular way from then on.

But Islamic eschatology also foresees the rise of the anti-Messiah, the dajjal, who will come from Iran and massacre many of the caliph’s soldiers outside of Jerusalem, leaving only 5,000 survivors. That is when Jesus returns to defeat the dajjal and lead the Muslim army to victory. Whichever scenario you choose, martyrdom likely awaits many of the Islamic State’s fighters.

 

Armageddon and Dabiq

In a book now a bit dated (1995), Donald E. Wagner tells his story – how after being raised a typical evangelical Zionist he was exposed to a different view in college and then in seminary. What made the difference, as is the case with so many, was the opportunity to visit Lebanon, Israel and its Occupied Territories. The book is entitled, “Anxious for Armageddon,” with the subtitle, “A Call for Partnership for Middle Eastern and Western Christians.” Wagner lays out the basic Christian Zionist scheme:

 

“According to the future premillennial scenario, once Israel became a nation in 1948, the movement toward the last days of history was set in motion. Israel would gradually attain international acclaim and become God’s chosen instrument to fight the Antichrist. Each modern war won by Israel (1948, 1956, 1967, 1973, 1982) provided sufficient evidence to me that Israel was becoming a significant military power and might play the predicted role in the prelude to Armageddon” (p. 25).

 

According to one popular scenario at the time, a confederation of ten nations will invade Israel and try to destroy her. Wagner explains,

 

“A long, bloody battle will be waged at Armageddon. Jesus will return to save Israel and establish his millennial kingdom [a literal 1,000 according to most interpretations] in Israel. Born-again Christians will be raptured out of history” (p. 25).

 

In 1985, Wagner and another visionary leader, Ray Bakke, made a trip together to the Middle East with the mission of listening to political and religious leaders and discovering how the American church could be of assistance. The next year a large consultation came together in the region under the auspices of the Middle East Council of Churches and the Lausanne Committee for World Evangelism, which led to the founding of Evangelicals for Middle East Understanding (EMEU). Still today, EMEU remains a unique platform from which American Christians can hear the concerns of their coreligionists in that region, find ways to support them, and work for peace and justice for all.

Wagner’s book may now be twenty years old, but the theology and politics of Christian Zionism he depicted are very much alive today – so much so, that the outsized monetary and political influence of American evangelical Zionists on Israeli politics was covered in a documentary last month shown on Israel’s Channel 2 (watch it here with English subtitles). Christian Zionism is an international movement, as attested by Jerusalem’s International Christian Embassy. Just by looking at their website you can see how political the movement is: the first of several rotating pictures is a dark one with Hizbullah fighters, an ominous “danger” sign, and the slogan, “Not one bomb for Iran!” At one point in the documentary, you have Texas megachurch pastor John Hagee, also founder of the most influential Christian Zionist organization worldwide (Christians United for Israel) pointing to the Dome of the Rock and the Islamic Haram al-Sherif while saying, “There is no question that this is where the Temple of the Lord Jesus Christ will be.”

Just to be clear: these are my dear fellow Christians and it makes me very sad to have to write in this way. Yet I am compelled to do so: didn't Jesus our Lord and Savior call us to "turn the other cheek," "love our enemies"? Didn't he say "blessed are the peacemakers" and remind us that he who lives by the sword will die by the sword?

I'll be honest. That longing for Armageddon (which, admittedly is easier from two continents away!) doesn't seem all that different from the Da’esh rants about Dabiq to me. How is a thinly veiled call to destroy the third holiest Islamic site in the world not a Christian extremist collusion with Jewish extremists who dream of doing just that? And how is it not another way of saying, “Armageddon? Bring it on!”? In the case of ISIS, you have millenarian zealots breathing violence and martyrdom for their cause. As for Hagee and Christians of his ilk, they want to bring down the overwhelming firepower of the world’s superpower and its Israeli ally to engage the battle that will trigger Jesus Christ’s return.

Truly, there is something ominous about certain eschatologies and their potential for violence.

Books

  • Justice and Love: A Muslim-Christian Conversation
    Justice and Love: A Muslim-Christian Conversation

    This was the page devoted to my small monograph published in Malaysia, Evolving Muslim Theologies of Justice: Jamal al-Banna, Mohammad Hashim Kamali and Khaled Abou El Fadl. It is now a 180-page (double-spaced) manuscript that should come out in 2019. Here's the abstract, or précis:

     

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  • Earth, Empire and Sacred Text
    Earth, Empire and Sacred Text

    This book seeks to construct a Muslim-Christian theological discourse on creation and humanity, which could help adherents of both faiths work together to preserve our planet, bring justice to its most needy inhabitants and contribute to peacebuilding in areas of conflict. For more information or to purchase (now also in paperback!)

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