CHAPTER 4
ISLAMIC FUNDAMENTALISM
Introduction
I want to begin by saying that, within the Muslim tradition, the word ‘fundamentalism’ doesn't translate particularly well. In Arabic, it may be rendered as aṣl or uṣūl, ‘fundamentals’, or as uṣūlī, ‘fundamentalist’. But being an uṣūlī in the Islamic tradition is not necessarily a bad thing. Although the terms ‘fundamentalism’ and ‘Muslim fundamentalist’ connote suicide bombings, extremism, segregation, confrontation, and isolationism in the West, for Muslims, having uṣūl or fundamentals is inherently positive. In fact, if I were to be described as a ‘Muslim fundamentalist’, when I was traveling in the Muslim east, I would not be offended, especially if it were a reference in observant Muslim circles. I believe that this perspective is due to the fact that we – and here I speak not as a spokesperson for Islam but simply as a Muslim – are not ashamed of our history nor do we have any existential angst in terms of trying to reconcile the fundamentals of our faith with the modern world. Professor Michael Cook has spoken about the accommodationist vein developed within Islam that has allowed us to adapt to the modern world without the kind of difficulties that other faith traditions may have. So with these broad and perhaps somewhat contentious opening remarks, I want to say two things: I am using the word ‘fundamentalist’ in the Western sense and not in the Muslim or Eastern sense, and I am using the word ‘fundamentalist’ with these caveats in mind.
There are two strands within Islam that can be considered fundamentalist: Islamism and Salafism. I will define and distinguish these two ideological trends shortly, but first I will make some general remarks about both. It is worth noting that about 90 per cent of the world's Muslims are neither Salafis nor Islamists. Here, I am referencing a 2011 report published by the Ahl al-Bayt Society in Jordan that questioned Muslims about their sectarian affiliation. While I do not consider Islamism and Salafism to be sects comparable to, say, Islmailis, this study found that approximately 10 per cent of all Muslims are of those persuasions. Furthermore, both Islamism and Salafism, or Wahhabism as it is also known, are modern phenomena. The ideas that the Salafis and Islamists speak about today would have been alien to a Muslim even as recently as 150 years ago. It is only over the last 60 years that the language of fundamentalists has become more prominent. Gaetano Mosca said, ‘It's the organized minority that controls a disorganized majority’, and that is exactly what can be seen being played out across the Muslim world. A minority of Islamists control the public messaging of a majority of the world’s Muslims.' The organised minority of Salafis and Islamists, and their ideational overlap, has created a voice that is much louder than the vast majority of Muslims. You can call this latter group whatever you like – the disorganised majority, the silent majority – but they are the moderate mainstream who are mostly concerned with getting on with their daily business. It is the Islamists and the Salafis that interest us because they are the organised, vocal minority. They are the ones who engage in violence and who have adopted a masculine, black-and-white, confrontational, and rigid agenda that seeks to impose their unique reading of sharia as state law.
To distinguish the Islamists and Salafis from their more mainstream brethren, it is necessary to broadly define normative Islam. Islam is an Abrahamic religion that has been around for more than 1,400 years. In essence, it is a spiritual pathway that calls for a person to believe that God is one (tawhīd in Arabic), to believe in the Abrahamic or Old Testament prophets, to believe that Jesus was a prophet of God rather than a child or son of God, and to believe that the Qur'an was revealed to Muhammad, who is the last in this series of prophets. Muslims also believe that in the next life we will be brought to account for our deeds in this world. Everything else in Islam is open to debate, discussion, scrutiny, and questioning. But it is faith, or iman, in these three aspects – the belief in one God, the belief in the Prophet Muhammad and his revelation (the Qur'an), and the belief in accountability to God in the afterlife – that defines Islam. It is not a complicated religion. Its simplicity is summarised in the short, beautiful, and poetic verses of the latter part of the Qur'an, which initially appealed to the equally simple Arab Bedouins. The complexity of the religion has been built up over the past 1,400 years, but, at its core, Islam is a simple faith.
Islamism
Islamism is a political ideology. It was born in the 1930s and 1940s at the hands of people such as Mawdudi in the Indian subcontinent and Hassan al-Banna and Sayyid Qutb in Egypt. The first point I want to make about Islamism is that, regardless of whether it was the Jamaat-e-Islami in the Indian subcontinent or the Muslim Brotherhood in the Arab world, it began as a response to colonialism. I am not necessarily blaming colonialism for the rise of Islamism. Nevertheless, it definitely emerged as a political response to colonialism and its competing ideologies: capitalism and communism. Mawdudi could not embrace either capitalism or communism for a host of reasons, so he looked to Islam for a political answer. He was the first to talk about Islam as a political entity, an ideology, a ‘complete code for life’, and he was the first to insist that the state must be controlled by a specific interpretation of sharia.
Secondly, Islamism is decisively statist. All Islamist groups seek to implement sharia – and preferably their reading of it – as state law. To that end, they aim to control the mechanisms of government in Muslim-majority countries.
Thirdly, Islamism is not a monolith. There exists a broad array of Islamist organisations. On the one hand are ‘liberal’ Islamist groups (relatively speaking) such as Ennahda in Tunisia and the AKP in Turkey, though one could hardly call them Islamist any more. On the other hand are more conservative and aggressive movements such as the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and Hamas in the Palestinian territories.
Furthermore, Islamism is inherently competitive and confrontational. Within the Islamic community, Islamists believe that their interpretation of the faith is superior to other readings of it and that their followers are more pious than other Muslims. Internationally, Islamists believe that they are in conflict with the West and its allies. This particular expression of the confrontational mentality stems, in part, from what Professor Cook called the ‘Third World Predicament’. Islamists believe that it is a Muslim hereditary right to be the leading civilisation in the world. On this point, Bernard Lewis notes that historically, Muslims were not accustomed to being a political minority. Whether in Egypt and Syria during the seventh and eighth centuries or in Mughal India during the eighteenth century, Muslims were an elite political class that often governed a majority non-Muslim population. It has only been within the past 60 to 70 years that large numbers of Muslims have lived as minorities. In Western nations alone there are 30 million Muslims living as minorities. This is historically unprecedented, and it is still an ongoing process. Therefore, it has been difficult for Muslims to accept minority citizenship status.
A fifth aspect of Islamism is that it desires Muslim unity under a caliphate in some form or another. I use the term ‘caliphate’ with caution because there are many modern understandings of what that institution signifies. There are groups such as al-Qaeda and Hizb al-Tahrir who want to reinstate a centralised medieval caliphate. On the opposite end of the spectrum are those such as Erdogan in Turkey who recently tweeted in Arabic that ‘the direction of prayer is one, the hour of prayer is one, the Qur'an is one, and we should be as one people’. Perhaps this neo-Ottoman vision for Muslim unity coming from Turkey's more secular-leaning leader could challenge the understanding of the caliphate put forward by the Bin Ladens of the world. Another Islamist leader supporting this unity agenda is Khairat al-Shatir, the deputy guide of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt. He has repeatedly spoken about the al-Nahḍa project, or the renaissance project. He wants this Islamic revival to spread across the region. Across the spectrum, the impulse for unity is there and refuses to disappear.
Lastly, Islamists believe that political sovereignty rests with God alone. Western politicians including Michelle Bachmann have echoed similar thoughts about God's sovereignty in political matters through evangelical Christian ideas such as Dominionism. For most Islamists, popular or parliamentary sovereignty is an anathema because it robs God of his rightful authority. This notion of divine sovereignty, sīyāda as it is called in Arabic, is a modern concept contrived by Islamists as a response to European political thought.
Salafism
Salafism has become a subject of political debate once again, and I hope to explain what it is and why it has recently reemerged as a topic of conversation. I live in New York and often travel throughout the United States. In my encounters with Americans, I am amazed at the short memory of many today, for Salafism is not a new phenomenon. It is no different from what is known as ‘Wahhabism’, which was the number one issue being discussed in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. After that tragic event, people asked: ‘What is it about Wahhabi ideology that led 19 men from a broadly Wahhabi background to attack the United States?’ This question was asked again in Britain four years later after the terrorist attacks of 7/7. The jihadism exhibited in these incidents is merely a violent (and marginal) expression of Wahhabism.
Now, after the Arab Spring revolutions, people are wondering, ‘Who are these Salafis?’ Well, this movement is nothing more than a reincarnation or a rebranding of the old Wahhabism. Practising Wahhabis are generally offended by this moniker, because they do not wish to be named after one of the names of God, al-wahhāb, nor do they want to be named after the founder of their school of thought, Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab. Instead, these particular Muslims prefer to be called Salafis. In Arabic, salaf means predecessor, and in the Islamic tradition the Salaf al-Ṣālihīn, which translates to ‘pious predecessors’, were the first three generations of Muslims. This is based on the Prophet Muhammad who said, ‘The best of generations is my generation, then those that follow them, then those that follow them.’ Therefore, the fact that the Wahhabis haven chosen to be called Salafis is telling. It indicates their obsession with the early Muslim community. This restorationist mindset can also be seen in certain Christian communities. But for the current discussion, the Salafi desire to emulate the original Islamic community demonstrates their very literalist outlook.
This literalism is the first hallmark of the Salafist movement. The Salafis declare that Muslims should practise their faith in the same pure and pristine manner as that of the first three generations, the Salaf al-Ṣālihīn. Salafism approaches Islam by divorcing it from over 1,400 years of nuance, poetry, metaphor, scholarship, and interpretation. Do the Salafis acknowledge the four commonly accepted schools of Islamic law? No. Do the Salafis accept that Shiʿi Muslims are believers? No. Do the Salafis allow for the veneration of saints and shrines as is done by the majority of Muslims around the world? No. I have previously been asked if Islam had ever experienced a reformation in the way that Christianity had. ‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘It is called Wahhabism.’ But whether we call it Wahhabism or Salafism, it is first and foremost a literalist interpretation of Islam.
Secondly, Salafism is rejectionist; it denies the validity of the practices and the beliefs of mainstream Islam. When it emerged in the eighteenth century, Wahhabism was a repudiation of the then normative Ottoman Hanafi Sunni Sufi version of Islam. Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab, the founder of this movement, had travelled and studied in cities throughout the Arabian Peninsula, Iraq, and possibly even Iran. He returned home disgusted by what he had seen, a dilution of his understanding of ‘pure, true Islam’ by Persian, Greek, and other influences. He was inspired to seek a more literal interpretation of Islam that he claimed would be more faithful to its original form. This attitude has inspired his followers to reject other Muslims, a mentality that still has repercussions today and can be seen in the attacks on Sufi shrines in Mali or the desecration of Shiʿi sites in Pakistan. Wahhabis are convinced that every other Muslim is wrong.
Thirdly, Salafis place an enormous emphasis on ʿaqīda, which is translated into English as ‘creed’ or ‘doctrine’. The Salafis insist that the Islamic creed must be absolutely pure. It must not be polluted by any external doctrine – even though the ideas of ancient Greek philosophy inspired the early Muslim Muʿtazilite theologians and the modern concepts of Western political thought continue to resonate with Muslims today.
The last prominent feature of Salafism is its preoccupation with the notions of shirk and bidʿa. Shirk is the belief in or worship of more than one God. For the Salafis, shirk is more than an adherence to polytheism or the Christian belief of the Trinity; it can manifest itself in the life of the ordinary Muslim who misses his prayers because he is working. The Salafi concludes that this Muslim has placed more importance on his work than on his duty to God, and therefore his labour has replaced his worship. The literalist mentality of Salafism means that shirk can be seen in every detail of one's daily life. Furthermore, Salafis are obsessed with the notion of bidʿa. While the word bidʿa simply means ‘innovation’, for the Salafi it implies a ‘religious innovation’, something inherently negative. Anything that does not conform to Salafism's narrow reading of scripture is bidʿa, and every bidʿa leads to Hell. This logic is again evidence of the literalism at the centre of the Salafi movement.
These four hallmarks of Salafism ideology – literalism, rejectionism, obsession with doctrinal purity, and preoccupation with shirk and bidʿa – were born in Saudi Arabia. These ideas have been spread across the region and beyond, in part, because of Saudi sponsorship and petro dollars, but also because of the black-and-white appeal it has for many Muslims. I was in Tunisia and Egypt recently, and every time I go to these countries, I see a greater prominence of Salafism. The expansion of Salafism can be seen in the proliferation of satellite television channels dedicated to this ideology, the increasing number of imams who use Salafi rhetoric in their Friday sermons, the presence of Salafist groups on university campuses, and the growing popularity of prominent Salafi web portals.
Aside from the allure of its ideological simplicity, Salafism is attracting new adherents because of practical reasons as well. Take as an example an average Egyptian man. He cannot get married until he is 35, because only then, if fortunate enough to find and maintain a well-paid job, is he finally able to afford a house and a car and financially support his family. But, if you are a 19-year-old Salafi, you can arguably gain access to multiple wives for literally nothing, because that is what the Prophet's people did. Early Muslims would go to a marketplace and propose to a woman. If she accepted the offer, she was pious. If she rejected the proposal, she was impious. And if she was not pious, then she would not be rewarded in the hereafter. This kind of literalist practice, prominent now in parts of Egypt, should not be dismissed as one of the draws of Salafi Islam. In this instance, it gives young Egyptian men free-licence to do whatever follows in a marriage without waiting to become financially independent.
Summary and Conclusion
My penultimate point is this: Jihadism is nothing but a violent struggle to manifest a certain reading of sharia or a specific interpretation of Islam as state law. All of this rhetoric – from Qutb to Bin Laden, from al-Gemma' al-Islamiyya to Jabhat al-Nusra – stems from this literalist understanding of sharia. Removing secular or less extreme Islamist governments in not their aim, but their means. The end is their form of strict caliphate state.
Yet for every idea or notion that the Salafis or the Islamists advance from scripture, there also exists a counter-scriptural argument. Therefore, in order to respond to the threat of jihadism, one must not blame Islam and say that this problem is inherent to the faith. Rather, we must remember that the Islamist or Salafi interpretation of scripture is but one of many. While I cannot say that the literalist approach to the Qur'an is necessarily invalid, I can say with certainty that it is a minority reading, and it is often at odds with the scriptural interpretation of the majority of the Muslim community. Therefore, to undermine this extreme understanding of scripture and counter the jihadi narrative, the Muslim majority must reassert their reading(s) of Islam.
Throughout the Middle East, certain governments have already attempted to use more normative Islamic interpretations to weaken jihadi rhetoric. And, by and large, these efforts have been successful. Prior to his ousting, Muammar Gaddafi, despite his many faults, was able to deradicalise (or at least disengage from violence) the Libyan Islamic fighting group by exposing them to a more mainstream reading of scripture. When presented with an alternative interpretation of Islam, these jihadis began to doubt the certainty of their cause. As this certainty weakened, their scriptural rigidity gave way to a more pluralist mindset. Saudi Arabia has implemented a similar initiative. So far, more than 8,000 jihadis have been placed in deradicalisation programmes. Interestingly enough, the Saudis are using mainstream Wahhabi thought – I recognise that this is a potential contradiction in terms – to undermine the more radical Salafis on the peninsula. And in Egypt under Hosni Mubarak, clerics from al-Azhar, the oldest functioning Islamic institution in the world, have gone to the prisons to deradicalise the more violent members of groups such as al-Gemaa al-Islamiyya. These mainstream Muslim thinkers have shared their approach to the Qur'an, their reading of the sunna, their interpretation of ijmāʿ, and their understanding of the four schools of law. So, as these brief examples show, the use of normative Islam to undermine radical ideology has happened, and it has worked. In conclusion, yes, there is a problem with extremism, fundamentalism, radicalism, literalism, Islamism, Salafism – whatever you want to call it – within Islam. However, the answers to this problem must also come from within Islam.