ast week, the Upper
Sharia Court in Gwadabawa, Sokoto State, in northern Nigeria
sentenced a 30-year-old pregnant woman to be stoned for premarital
sex. Human-rights organizations immediately protested the sentence.
The human-rights problems in imposing a 1,000-year-old codification
of law are not confined to tribalistic Nigeria. Muslims and
non-Muslims alike suffer under some of the extreme provisions of the
Sharia (Islamic law) applied, directly or indirectly, in Egypt,
Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, Iran, and other areas. But these actions are
not the essentialist Islam. In fact, most contemporary
fundamentalist impositions do not even observe the strict procedural
protections the Sharia provided, and under which few if any of
today's attacks on human rights could be accomplished. They violate
the provisions of the very law they claim to be following.
Furthermore, today's application of the criminal provisions of the
Sharia are as ahistorical as they are problematical for human
rights. The Islamic empire in its various forms more often
substituted its own criminal courts and criminal decrees for that of
the qadi (judge), leaving the criminal-law provisions of the
Sharia among the least developed areas of classical Islamic law.
The legalistic
element of Islam spans wide variations. Not all wish to impose the
Sharia in all its archaic details. Many call for a new
ijtihad, or redevelopment of the law from its sources to meet
modern conditions. Nor is legalism the sole voice of Islam: From the
beginning, rationalist, theological, and mystical traditions have
vied with it. I believe that, like Christians and Jews, most Muslims
crave a moral space in which to worship God and obtain forgiveness
and salvation. The imposition of all the elements of a
1,000-year-old code of law would close up that space.
Yet as
offensive to human rights and dignity as the stoning of a woman for
an act of sexual immorality is, it is not the same as flying a plane
into a building to kill thousands of innocent civilians. It is not
the same as training thousands to destroy societies and impose
political control over millions of people. Mass terror is a
different and qualitatively more egregious form of evil. It is
outside of even militant Islamic fundamentalism.
War Against Islam
Over the past
few weeks, I have argued that Osama bin Laden and his Taliban allies
represent a perversion of Islam and are engaged in a campaign to
change Islam itself — to define the faith politically, and not
primarily legally or theologically. The evidence, I believe, is
unequivocal: His war is as much against Islam as it is against the
West. I have written that Islam is a multivocal religion, that from
its start it has debated within itself the nature of its identity.
And I have noted that among all its varied traditions, one thing
remains clear: The acts of the terrorists of September 11, and the
justification of them by Osama bin Laden, replicate in modern guise
a violent faction, the Kharajites, that Islam found totally anathema
to the faith early in its history. In other writings, I have
asserted that This form of extremism has been inspired by the
writings of influential modernist radicals, such as Sayyid Qutb of
Egypt, who believe that virtually all Islam is in a state of
unbelief and needs to be reconquered. Thus, in its modern form, bin
Laden's kind of extremism has much more in common with Stalin,
Hitler, and Mao than it does with Islamic tradition. Like those
state terrorists, bin Laden is at war with his own people. And
finally, I have baldly asserted that bin Laden and his extremists
are evil, pure and simple, and Islam is not.
Since these
opinions have been aired, I have received many letters, telephone
calls, and e-mails. Without exception, Muslims who have contacted me
have been grateful for my views. They have been relieved to hear how
a Christian and Westerner is explaining to Americans the true nature
of their religion. They have thanked me for my understanding of
Islam. They agree with my characterization of bin Laden and al
Qaeda.
But, Muslim
opinion notwithstanding, some American columnists have insisted that
I misunderstand Islam. Andrew Sullivan and Franklin Foer report that my views are mere
"bromides" or a "simplification." Sullivan thinks I do not realize
the danger of fundamentalism — or of monotheism, for that matter.
Foer regards me as a faith-based partisan (as is, in his opinion,
our simplistic president). But their errors, I fear, go beyond
editorial misjudgments. Their views are historically flawed, deeply
misleading, and may increase the distance between us and the Muslim
world.
There are,
among contemporary observers of the current crisis, respected
commentators: Bernard Lewis, Paul Johnson, and Daniel Pipes, for
example, who have differing perspectives or emphases from mine. They
are more critical of the character, history, and traditions of
Islam. I welcome a civil and open exchange on the issues.
Civilizations may hang on what policy America pursues, so it is
vital that we get things right. All who have made a serious study of
Islam should be brought into the discussion.
There are,
however, some commentators who have a different agenda. They seek to
turn the response to bin Laden into a campaign against religion
itself.
At bottom,
Andrew Sullivan thinks that bin Laden is much closer to the real
Islam than I make him out to be. He accepts bin Laden's premise: We
are in a religious war. More accurately, Sullivan wants us to be in
a religious war, because Sullivan himself wants to make war on
religion until it learns to believe less in itself.
Sullivan has
two themes. The first is that legalistic Islam, the Islam of the
fundamentalists, has been making dramatic headway in the Muslim
world. There's nothing new there. But his corollary — that bin Laden
is only a prominent example of the fundamentalist movement (indeed,
of all religious fundamentalism) — is dangerously awry.
Sullivan's
claim is that religious "fundamentalism" of any sort is the same,
and he makes the astonishing assertion that monotheistic religion
has been a primary source of evil in the last few centuries. For
Sullivan, it is religion itself we should be wary of, unless it be
cordoned off in a tame corner by the state.
The Enemy of My Enemy
There is no
doubt that the militant edge of Islamic fundamentalism has expanded
in recent decades. Many scholars of Islam have delineated, in
meticulous detail, the particular movements and leaders in various
countries of the Muslim world. They have provided us, if we would
but listen, with the knowledge by which to develop policies that can
support genuinely religiously based reformist movements, free of the
hate that is capable of undermining world peace and
stability.
What's been
missing from recent discussion is an acknowledgement that over the
past decade, the United States has done little to discourage Islamic
governments from appeasing radical Islamist movements within their
nations. On the contrary, a kind of patronizing attitude towards
Muslims — a view that Islam is dangerous, militant, and
narrow-minded — was not uncommon in our government's attitude, and
particularly in our relations with countries such as the Sudan,
Pakistan, and Afghanistan. In another forum, I noted three critical
effects of that policy:
· If we don't
believe in protecting people from religious persecution, we must be
the materialist, bankrupt culture the Islamic radicals claim we are.
· If we allow,
for reasons of state, that it's all right with us that Islamic
governments give in to the radicals' tyrannical agenda, we
acknowledge that radical Islam is a legitimate force in the world.
· If we in
effect say that these issues are not human-rights problems, that
they are "a Muslim problem," we treat our genuine Islamic friends
with a patronizing indifference.
Such attitudes
have only given the radicals more validation, increasing Muslims'
contempt for the West. Those beliefs have largely reflected the
views of religion in general held by the secular elites whose views
Foer and Sullivan clearly espouse. Fortunately for America and the
world, theirs is an attitude President Bush does not
share.
Sullivan calls
particular attention to the Saudi spread of its puritanical
Wahhabist sect and its embrace of the most rigorous and narrow legal
school in Islam. In addition, he points to Saudi support of
madrasas, which he rightly describes as being often mere
schools of hate, which do not advance prospects of peace and mutual
acceptance.
But Osama bin
Laden's version of Islam is different even from Wahhabism. And it
certainly is different from more moderate forms of Islamic
fundamentalism, let alone traditional Islam. Bin Laden's Islam has
even gone beyond being a religious sect. It has become, like the
Leninism it in significant ways replicates, a political ideology.
Even his calls to action are political war cries: the crusades, the
land of the two holy mosques, the 80-year-old political betrayal of
the Arabs. He would, and has, killed Muslims who disagree with his
beliefs — or rather, with his need for control. He joyfully makes
war on innocent civilians, war even the most passionate partisans of
the Sharia have difficulty justifying. It is both ironic and
revealing that Osama bin Laden, who makes use of the products of
these Wahhabist schools, seeks to overthrow the Saudi regime
itself.
Without being
blind to the dangers of militant fundamentalism, we must remain
aware of the moral distinction between sects like the Wahhabis and
terrorist groups like al Qaeda and Islamic Jihad. It is a difference
that the majority of Muslims, including many of those sympathetic to
fundamentalism, are capable of affirming. However timorous Muslim
spokesmen may salt their condemnation of the terrorists with
formulaic denunciations of Israel, they all are aware of one truth:
Bin Laden hates them and means to do them in. What we must do, at
all costs, is to prevent bin Laden's call to arms from bringing
Islamic fundamentalists into his extremist ranks and into his
political battle. And our starting point must be a respect for the
distinctions between the great varieties of Islamic tradition and
the perversions of them.
Those in the
West who suggest that bin Laden is being true to Islam cede him the
ground of his ambition. This is not the first time that Western
pundits have failed to observe such things with moral clarity.
During the Cold War, some on the Left saw Communism as "simply
another way of reaching the same ends we all share." Some on the
Right failed to distinguish between the dangers of domestic
socialism and the evils of international Communism. Fortunately,
free-world leaders like Truman, Reagan, and Thatcher saw the evil of
Communism for what it was and eventually reduced it to rubble. But
now, commentators like Andrew Sullivan commit a comparable error by
failing to distinguish between homicidal revolutionaries like bin
Laden and traditional Muslim believers. Such distinctions can lead
us to policies that will help the West in its battle against
terrorism, and preserve traditional Islam as well.
In sum, most
Muslims and most Muslim leaders know emphatically what America's
leaders and intellectuals must know: that extremists like bin Laden
do not represent historic or mainstream Islam, not even in its most
problematic forms. Bin Laden's extremism is meant to establish a
brand of Islam after the pattern of Afghanistan. It follows the
example of the extremist government of Sudan, which inflicts a
terrorist war upon millions of Christians within its own borders. It
undermines and attacks legal values most Muslims hold to be part of
Islamic law. And it mocks any semblance of the toleration and
peaceful coexistence that have marked much of Islamic
history.
Perversely, by
treating Islam as a religion of terror, Sullivan plays into bin
Laden's strategy of presenting himself as a religious hero. The more
accurate course is to brand bin Laden for what he is — an enemy to
the peaceful and tolerant (and even some of the less-tolerant)
traditions of Islam — and so isolate him from the faith of the
multitudes he seeks to win over. If American policy were based on
Sullivan's analysis, it would be grounded in a patronizing and
distorted view of Islam (and religious faith in general), and raise
a front of Muslim nations against the West into the bargain. War
with the entire Islamic religion is as unnecessary as it is grossly
imprudent. More importantly, by continuing to maintain that moral
bright line between terrorism and Islam, we help to legitimate all
the varied and peaceful traditions of Islam — including those that
oppose fundamentalism. This permits us to precisely isolate and
destroy the terrorists, while working on a multifaceted program to
blunt and reduce militant fundamentalism within Islam.
But, as noted,
Sullivan's game actually has little to do with the fight against
Islamist terrorism. Rather, he seizes on the events of September 11
to try to deprecate all traditional religious faiths. This requires
him to ignore distinctions of the most profound importance. As a
Catholic, Sullivan surely knows that, however often Catholics have
failed to live up the tenets of their faith, one of the things it
directly forbids is the intentional killing of innocent human
beings. Catholic "absolutism," far from creating a risk that
terrorism could be justified, strictly forbids such acts against
innocents under any and all circumstances.
And then what
about the genocidal crimes of the various forms of secularism? What
occurred in the 20th century when, as Nietzsche declared, God was
dead? When he considers Hitler, Stalin, and Mao — when he faced with
the fact that more people have been killed in the name of atheism
than under any religious banner — Sullivan shrugs: That's
"fundamentalism" too, he says. It doesn't wash. It's secular state
power that has committed the most heinous crimes, not a derivative
form of religious fundamentalism. Even many of the persecutions done
in the name of religion were often accompanied, or even instigated,
by a grasping for worldly power. It was local bishops who opposed
King Ferdinand's extension of the Inquisition. King Henry VIII
killed thousands — Catholics and others — who opposed his
centralization of power. The same secular elements can be seen in
the Albigensian crusade, the religious wars of the 16th and 17th
centuries, the later pogroms, and the Byzantine persecution of the
Copts. This does not, of course, relieve any religious agents of
their moral culpability. To pay honest respect to history, we must
acknowledge, as the Pope has done, the grave sins committed by
people of religion and in the name of religion. At the same time,
however, we must also acknowledge this larger truth: that people of
religion have been a main source of opposition to crimes against
humanity committed by the state — and have often been the main
victims as well.
There's element
of truth in what Sullivan says: Bin Laden has much in common with
secularist ideologies like fascism and Communism. But, by the same
token, he also has little in common with Catholicism, evangelical or
other traditional forms of Protestantism, Mormonism, orthodox or
other forms of Judaism, or Islam itself. What drives bin Laden is
not religious faith of any traditional kind; it is, rather, the
all-too-familiar phenomenon of murderous revolutionary ideology
politicizing religion for its own purposes.
Sullivan should
be credited for openly laying out our fundamentally differing points
of departure. He thinks that religion — monotheistic religion in
particular — has been the source of our greatest evils. I believe
religion — despite the failures of many religious people and even
religious leaders — is the repository of what is forever good. I
hold with Julian Benda that because of the affirmation of
transcendent truths, "humanity did evil for 2000 years, but
worshipped good." It was a "contradiction," he noted, but one that
"was an honor to the human species and formed the rift by which
civilization slipped into the world."
Sullivan wants
religion to be placed in a holding pen. Bin Laden wants to use
religion for revolutionary purposes. I say let religion be religion.
Let it lead its own life. It needn't be put in a pen. And it
certainly shouldn't be perverted into a mask for 21st-century
Leninism.
Franklin Foer
notes that I wish religion to be given greater respect and honor in
the public square than it currently enjoys. (He also denigrates the
president for having similar views.) I gladly admit the charge. The
fact is that where faith in a loving God is restored, freedom will
be better secured — for religion calls people to that which is
greater and better than any state can provide. True, the state
should not champion any one faith, but it should acknowledge and
celebrate a society in which faith posits norms higher than itself.
We should do this for ourselves, and we should so respect other
religious cultures as well. It has been the American way.
The three great
Abrahamic religions spawned great civilizations. They also stand for
this one great spiritual and political truth, which reverberates
through our present discontents: that all persons are equal in the
eyes of God, and that equality, if made manifest, can secure peace,
freedom, and representative government. Standing on its own,
secularism cannot secure those inestimable goods.
Secularism,
uninformed by spiritual values, doesn't know what to do with evil.
It even has trouble determining what it is. When we stared at the
falling World Trade Center towers, it was our religious values that
told us something profoundly wicked had taken place — something that
could not be explained simply in terms of material substances and
causes. Where did the intuitive grasp of the matter drive most of
us? Did the crowds flock to the Capitol for comfort? Did they camp
on the steps of the Supreme Court? No. They went their places of
worship. They lit candles. They had neighborhood prayer meetings.
They repaired to the source of all good.
By recognizing
bin Laden's evil for what it is, Muslims have the opportunity for
self-reflection on what their religion truly means. By recognizing
bin Laden's evil for what it is, Americans can begin a process of
engagement with the vast populations of the Muslim world. And by
recognizing bin Laden's evil for what it is, we can better recognize
what is good in our own society, as well as in other societies, and
begin to nurture it.
Policy pieces
are necessarily pointed, brief, and oversimplified. Further views of
this comparativist on Islam and Islamic law can been seen in "A
Faith in Debate," WSJ, September 28, 2001, and in the essays
collected in my volume Studies in Islamic Law. Finally (and
anticlimactically), I must issue — once again — some disclaimers I
made to Franklin Foer but which he chose to ignore. I am not an
adviser to the president, on Islam or anything else. Neither am I
the president's "Catholic ghost writer," in Andrew Sullivan's arch
phrase. The words were the president's, as was his policy of
distinguishing the extremists from Islam. My writings noted that
both ancient and contemporary history validated what was his policy
from the beginning. And in that, we both were
correct. |