July 04, 2013
Irrespective
of the popular and military moves against political Islam in Egypt this week,
the prospect of establishing an Islamic state in the Arab world has always been
extremely unlikely.
Over the past 1,352 years, since the death of Imam Ali (Prophet Mohammed’s
cousin and the fourth “Rightly Guided Caliph”), not a single state that emerged
in the Arab World has been Islamic. None had a legislative structure based
exclusively on Koranic jurisprudence; none was ruled by a leader who was
selected based on a theological basis; and all were conspicuously based on
national, tribal, or familial foundations, with Islam only an overarching frame
of reference.
There is no space here to analyze every single Arab (not to mention Persian or
Turkish) state over the past thirteen centuries. But it is useful to dissect
the ruling structure of the largest and most important of these states.
The Umayyads, the first dynasty to rule the Islamic world after the death of
Ali, anchored their rule on a familial hereditary system that was established
after fighting (and inflicting a massacre over) Prophet Mohammed's own
offspring. They subjugated North Africa, Andalucía, and Iran, and in a time
when Islam entered the Islamic republics in southern Russia. The Umayyads’
legitimacy—which was never fully established— rested on the buy-in of the
religious establishment, initially in Al-Hejaz (Islam's birthplace) and later
in various Islamic learning centers in the Levant. The Umayyads never claimed
that their family-heads (the Islamic caliphs) were the religious leaders of the
Islamic nation; that position was almost impossible for them to secure and was
left to the venerable scholars of Mecca and Medina (and later some in
Damascus). The Umayyad rulers were emperors of the expanding state that bore
their name. It was not a coincidence that their courts were modelled on these
of the eastern Roman Empire in Constantinople. And on the many occasions when
the Umayyads' rule was challenged by those who had a solid claim to be the real
guardians of the principles and teachings of Prophet Mohammed, the Umayyads'
response came in the form of military campaigns. In one instance their armies
burnt down the Kabba, Islam's holiest shrine in Mecca.
Over the past thirteen centuries, numerous dynasties in the greater Middle East
copied the Umayyads’ ruling scheme. First, grab power militarily. Then, uphold
the notion that the state is “Islamic”. Next, ensure the recognition and
obedience—though not necessarily the approval—of the most venerable (and
famous) of the Islamic scholars of the age. Afterwards, rule as you please
without any serious regard to Islamic jurisprudence, principles, or identity.
An Islamic pretext was sometimes used to establish legitimacy, or gain momentum
before militarily challenging the ruling dynasty of the day. The Abbasids,
descendants of an uncle of the Prophet Mohammed, used the notion of a “just
Imam from the house of Mohammed” as their slogan in a vast clandestine
operation that had lasted for over two decades, and through which they built an
army of followers (the majority of them were Persians). They developed a
sophisticated funding and money-distribution system spanning what is today
Iran, Iraq, and the eastern Mediterranean, before openly challenging—and
obliterating—the Umayyads. Circa 250 years later, in the tenth century, the
Fatimids used their claim of descent from Prophet Mohammed’s daughter, Fatima
(Imam Ali’s wife), to entrench their rule in, what is today Tunisia, and later
to march an army to challenge the Abbasid rule in Egypt, conquer the country,
and establish their new capital, Cairo (the city victorious). Similarly, the
Ottomans in the sixteenth century only cemented their claim as the political
leaders of the Muslim world after expanding their rule to the Levant, Egypt
(the home of Al-Azhar, Sunni Islam’s most venerable seat of learning), and
after taking control of Al-Hejaz, assumed guardianship of Islam’s holy shrines.
But, in all of these examples, among others, the ruling format remained the
same. And never did these different rulers, even those with direct descent from
the Prophet, claim that they were the theological authorities of the Muslim
world. That remained the job of the scholars in the centers of Islamic
learning, towns that were increasingly detached and geographically distant from
the political capitals.
The format has continued in modern times. The state that Mohammed Ali Pasha
established in Egypt in the first half of the nineteenth century became the
model for almost all the states that emerged in the Arab world in the second
half of the nineteenth and the early decades of the twentieth century. Ruling
Egypt until the 1952 coup d’état that ended the country’s monarchy, the
successors of Mohammed Ali maintained the “Islamic nature” of their state; they
ensured cordial relations with—and control over—Egypt’s powerful religious
establishment: Al-Azhar. But all the legislative, judicial, economic, social,
educational, and political systems that they built were unremittingly imported
from Europe. Even in the Arab states whose ruling families anchored their
legitimacy on a religious pedigree the same pattern has endured, for instance
the Hashemites in Jordan and the Alawites in Morocco (both descendants of Imam
Ali).
The social and political modernizations that accompanied the Arab liberal age
from the late nineteenth to mid-twentieth century posed a significant threat to
the Arabic religious institutions. Secular education, Western social norms (for
example the mixing of the genders in public spaces), and the new cultural
orientation of Arab societies in the early twentieth century (toward Paris,
London, and Vienna) not only diluted the religious establishments’ traditional
sway over their societies; more importantly they were perceived—not just by the
religious establishments but also by different social segments—as posing a
challenge to the overarching Islamic identity of these societies. Some
luminaries sought a meeting of minds between “modernity and the heritage and
teachings of the religion of rationality,” in the words of Egypt’s grand
scholar at the dawn of the twentieth century, Mohammed Abdou. Others saw an
impending confrontation: a need to defend Islam from the “West and its
subjects,” the subjects being the Arab and Muslim liberals who spearheaded the
advancements that were taking place at the time in Arabic education,
translation, literature, theatre, music, and later cinema.
Gradually two narratives emerged. The first, fuelled by the cultural
developments of the Arabic liberal age, invoked the Arabic or Mediterranean
identity of the societies in this part of the world. Some of the thinkers of
this movement completely ignored the influence that Islam has traditionally
commanded in these societies. The result was highly secular Arab philosophical
currents that had their days in the sun (mainly in the 1930s and 1940s) but
that quickly vanished from the limelight. The views that lasted were those of
leading thinkers who tried to merge the traditions of the Islamic heritage with
modern thinking. They emphasized that Islam (loosely defined as a
“civilization”) is the overarching frame of reference for Arab societies. But
in their endeavours in politics, economics and even cultural productions, they
worked on building the new Arabic states that were emerging at the time on
modern institutions. The results were the 1923 Egyptian Constitution (the model
for many constitutions in different Arab countries), the acceptance of the
notion of a constitutional monarchy (initially in Egypt and later to a lesser
extent in Syria, Iraq, and briefly in Libya), and the beginnings of credible
checks and balances between different authorities (the monarchy, the
parliament, the judiciary, in addition to formidable political-economy power
centers). Getting the support of the religious establishment, a key pillar of
the old ruling formula, was increasingly waning.
Arab nationalism further strengthened this trend. The tsunami that Egypt’s Gamal
Abdel Nasser had unleashed in the Arab world from the mid-1950s to the late
1960s, which continued for roughly a decade after his death in 1970, was
strictly secular, though the notion of independent state institutions was
sacrificed for hero-worship. Arab nationalism, at least in its first two
decades, imbued Arab politics with something new: the consent of the middle and
lower middle classes to a conspicuously secular governing ideology—one not
imposed by Europeanized elites, but supported by the masses.
The potency, momentum, and immense success that Arab nationalism achieved in
the 1950s and 1960s further antagonized religious establishments across the
Arab world and movements born in the early twentieth century in the attempt to
“defend the religion,” most notably the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood.
But in the past 130 years, from the emergence of the Arab state in the 1880’s
to the “Arab Spring,” the forces of the Islamic movement never managed to stall
the advance of secularization.
Over the past two years, the rise of political Islam across the whole of North
Africa and its commanding presence in the Eastern Mediterranean (Hamas in
Palestine, Hezbollah in Lebanon, and the various Islamist groups in the Syrian
opposition forces), suggest that several Arab countries face the prospect of a
gradual Islamization. This takes many forms, but two are paramount. The first
is the attempt of various Islamist groups to Islamize state institutions:
stressing the Islamic nature of their societies in the new constitutions of
their countries, linking the penal code of their countries to the laws of the
Islamic jurisprudence, putting religion-related restrictions on freedom of
expression, and significantly enhancing the influence of Islamist political
economy power centers. The second form, championed by some assertive Salafist
groups aims to Islamize “societies,” which such groups see as having strayed
off the “correct Islamic path.”
These forms of Islamization—and of course the rapid rise of Islamist groups to
power—have been overwhelming for many Arab liberals, most of whom are
fragmented, leaderless, and with tenuous links to the masses of the lower
middle classes and the poor of their societies. The result has been
nervousness, antagonism, detachment, increasingly violent social
confrontations, and sometimes quitting; North Africa and the Eastern
Mediterranean are witnessing alarming levels of emigration among the well
educated who are able to find jobs internationally; many of the best and the
brightest are opting out.
But this Islamization will not succeed. First, despite the piousness of the
vast majority of Muslim Arabs, themselves the commanding majorities of the
region, the Islamization efforts inherently challenge the national identities
of each country. Despite clever rhetoric, Islamization means the domination of
one component of Egyptianism, Tunisianity, Syrianism, etc, over other
components that had shaped these entrenched identities. This is especially true
in the old countries of the Arab world, the ones whose borders, social
compositions, and crucially identities had been carved over long, rich
centuries. And the more the Islamist movements continue to thrust their
worldviews and social values, the more they will disturb these national
identities, and the more agitated—and antagonized—the middle classes of these
societies will become.
Second, these efforts at Islamization take place when almost all of these
societies are undergoing difficult—and for many social classes,
painful—economic transitions. And there is no way out. The ruling Islamist
executives are compelled to confront the severe structural challenges inherent
in the economies they inherited. Some are able to buy time and postpone crucial
reforms through foreign grants (which come at a political price). But sooner or
later, they will have to make the tough socio-economic decisions that these
structural reforms require. Islamists in office will be blamed for the pains
that will ensue. Rapidly, some of the constituencies that had voted them into
power will seek other alternatives.
Third, demographics will work against these efforts at Islamization. Close to
200 million of the Arab world’s 340 million people are under 30-years old. As a
result of the many failures it has inherited, this generation faces a myriad of
socio-economic challenges on a daily basis. A culture of protest and rejection
has already been established amongst its ranks, and young people will not
accept indoctrination—even if it was presented in the name of religion. Almost
by default, the swelling numbers of young Arabs, especially in the culturally
vibrant centers of the Arab world (Cairo, Tunis, Beirut, Damascus, Casablanca,
Kuwait, Manama), will create plurality—in social views, political positions,
economic approaches, and in social identities and frames of reference.
Finally, this Islamization project, in its various parts, will suffer at the
hand of its strategists and managers. The leaderships of the largest Islamist
groups in the Arab world have immense experiences in developing and managing
services and charity infrastructures, operating underground political networks,
fund-raising, and electoral campaigning, especially in rural and interior
regions. But they suffer an acute lack of experience in tackling serious political-economy
challenges or administering grand socio-political narratives. Lack of
experience will result in incompetence.
But these factors will take time to unfold. The second decade of the
twenty-first century will be transformative not only for Arab politics, but
more importantly for Arab societies. Amid the gradual fall of the old order and
the highly likely failure of the Islamization efforts, young Arabs will be
searching for their own narratives. In some Arab countries the process will be
smooth, in others it will be bloody, and in most it will be protracted with
spikes of tension. The result will be plurality—a plethora of different,
competing social narratives. In many cases, we will see interesting mixes of
various ideologies (Arabism, Mediterraneanism, Islamism, and others). But in as
much as Arab states have never been exclusively Islamic for over thirteen
centuries, Arab states will not be Islamic in the foreseeable future.
Tarek
Osman is the author of the international bestseller Egypt on the Brink. He has published
articles on Egypt and the Middle East in leading international newspapers.