Is Shariah Possible (II): Origins of a Cosmopolitan Venture

A moral philosophy characteristically presupposes a sociology. For every moral philosophy offers explicitly or implicitly at least a partial conceptual analysis of the relationship of an agent to his or her reasons, motives, intentions and actions, and in so doing generally presupposes some claim that these concepts are embodied or at least can be in the real social world. [Alasdair Macintyre]

Any study of Muslim civilization – with the purpose of exploring the roots of law – cannot remain unaffected by a certain kind of arbitrariness as far as specific time spans concerning various formative and post formative legal developments are concerned. However, it can be said with certainty that during the time of pious caliphate, there was no formal body of religious law that can be understood as binding on all Muslims. The community, being a direct recipient of revealed word of God, had no need to indulge in formal interpretation as the text (being characteristically a recitation-text as indicated by the word Quran itself and the first revelation Iqra’a) naturally exercised authority through immediate oral methods. A striking example of this spontaneous textual authority is Abu Bakr’s admonition to Umar at the time of Prophet’s demise which automatically brought the latter out from a state of denial.

This spontaneity, however, does not imply normative singularity (as we shall see later in the detailed examination of the Quran as a source of Sharia’h) and there were differences of opinions among companions regarding meaning of various verses.

Similarly, the concept Sunnah was not understood to be taken as a authoritative binding source in a proper and well defined framework. It was a kind of exemplary Prophetic practice – not yet formally situated in history – having a quasi-authoritative character; a disposition, which has to be necessarily distinguished from a relatively formal framework developed by later scholars especially Shafii.

It is difficult to identify the triggering point in history where Islamic tradition began to transform itself into a coherent, encompassing and self-assertive social order from a crudely authoritative moral philosophy . In this regard, one of the best studies of historical development of Islamic civilization has been carried out by Marshall Hodgson.

In his majestically detailed work, Hodgson goes on to explain the early  origins of a certain piously conscious class within Muslim societies supporting a faith-based egalitarianism in contrast to ruling absolutism of Marwani caliphate. A striking characteristic of this class – which was later specialized to be accepted as Ul’ema - was the pronouncement of this expectation that Islam has to have its own system of law, ethics, education and set of governing principles for public as well as private life.

With regards to Muslim civilization as a whole, the most profound cultural implication of this universalistic phenomenon was the emergence of a global social concern. In the words of Hodgson:

[...] the Muslims, unlike the Jews, did not regard their own community as a unique and (in principle) hereditary body selected out from a world left otherwise without direct divine guidance. The Muslim community was thought of as one among many divinely guided communities such as the Jewish or Christian, all (at their origin) equally blessed. Thus far, Islam took explicitly the form that various Christian and Jewish bodies had implicitly been assuming under the confessional empires [...]. The difference between Islam and the other communities was that Islam was first to rule over and then to supersede all others. Islam was to bring the true and uncorrupted divine guidance to all mankind, creating a world-wide society in which the true revelation would be the everyday norm of all the nations. It must not guide an autonomous community like the Jewish; it must guide the practical policies of a cosmopolitan world.

This indeed was the aspiration which can be termed as the cornerstone of that sacred socio-moral vision we call Sharia’h or Islamic Canon. It is important to note that this sacred vision was as much informed by a will to act in opposition to the political reality of pre-Abbasid period as it was by the resolve to bring the whole ambit of individual life in accordance with divine will; or more specifically, to act as ordained by the Quran and Sunnah.

Filed under: Series & Sequels, Sociology of Religion, Suspended Judgments, Traditional Islam , Fiqh, Islamic Law, Shariah

Is Sharia’h Possible? (I): Definition and Scope

The Shari’a is all justice, kindness, common good and wisdom. Any rule that departs from justice to injustice [...] or departs from common good (maslaha) to harm (mafsada) [...] is not part of Sharia’h, even if it is arrived at by literal interpretation. [Ibn Qayyim]

“Just what is Shari’ah“, asks Zakintosh on his blog as he invites “unemotional” responses which are aimed towards understanding and clarifying things. In a series of posts, I would try to limn my understanding of the concept as well as sundry issues which do inform the current socio-religious and political discourse.

As far as it serves in drawing parallels, Iqbal’s famous enquiry: Is religion possible? (his lecture to fifty fourth session of Aristotelian Society, London in 1932) can be used as a starting point in examining the problematic of Sharia’h. Proposing three periods of religious life, i.e. faith, thought and discovery, Iqbal asserts that in the period of faith an individual or society must submit unconditionally without grasping completely the ultimate rationality behind religious demand. Similarly, before considering Sharia’h as a viable vocation, we should probably come in terms with the concept that Islam – during its present sojourn into modernity – can be seen beyond the duality of temporal and spiritual, i.e., as a unified dynamic experience which can enrich and facilitate all the modern aspects of life. It is only after grappling with the sociological possibility of Sharia’h that a modern muslim mind can overcome its proclivity for atomism and its incapability for generalization. In this sense, it is the only right premise that can mother the possibility for right conclusions.

Moving forward beyond the usual etymological distinctions, the concept Sharia’h has been traditionally used to refer to a wide range of philosophical and legal connotations. In an epistemological sense, the arabic terms aq’l (the reason) and hawa (desire) have been often used in contrast with Shara’a in traditional texts (for instance in Shatibi’s Al-Muwafiqaat or Ibn Qayyim’s Ailaam al-Muwaqaeen). At this level, Sharia’h has been essentially understood as a knowledge producing category emanating from the realm of Divine. From an ontological perspective, it has been understood as the expression of legislative aspects of Divine Will whose compliance is not immediate; rather, it is conditional to be exercised by the society itself. This is in clear distinction to His creative Will which is immediately complied for automatically achieving the intended end.

Probably for utilitarian reasons, Sharia’h has often been seen as synonymous to wahy (revelation), especially in the domain of law. True, that revelation is also a knowledge producing function; yet, the contention of equating Sharia’h with revelation historically gave birth to two major ambiguities. Foremost being that revelation is a process which brings the intent of the Divine to the creation, i.e., a medium for expression and not the intended meaning of the expression itself; hence, goes the famous adage by Ali that Quran is but ink and paper, it is the human being that interprets. Secondly, due to an additional understanding of the nature of revelation as a law producing function – albeit indirectly – the terms Sharia’h and Fiqh have been used interchangeably in much of the medieval religious discourse. Right up to the modern times, this usage has added considerable complexity to the discourse. No wonder, the most famous shibboleth of our times: whose Sharia’h? is a by product of same confused usage. What is generally understood as Sharia’h is actually its understanding or explanation, i.e., Fiqh.

But perhaps the most serious historical problem associated with this arguably confused equation was the question of immutability or adaptability of Sharia’h. The upholders of immutability-view claimed that rulings of Sharia’h are absolutely final and unalterable; the premise being that revelation is complete and final. Whereas, the proponents of adaptability-view upheld that the contents of Sharia’h are constantly expanding and undergoing change with varying sociological conditions. As we shall see later, both the views are historically significant because of their direct effect on respective choice and handling of sources of Sharia’h and therefore its ultimate scope.

A final point having great contemporary relevance is whether the Sharia’h can be termed as law in modern sense. The modern notion of law entails in itself the concept of an imposing authority. If Sharia’h or a particular set of its substantive interpretations (i.e. Fiqh) may understood to have the same import as modern law, the nature of ritual, worship and various other moral injunctions (included in the corpus of Sharia’h) will become questionable as far as their respective relationship with individual and society is concerned. This is why it is interesting to note that the practice of Islamic moral brigades forcing individuals to keep beards and imposing particular dress codes is intrinsically modern. The phenomenon will be explored further during the analysis of socio-moral dynamics of Sharia’h. At this point it is sufficient to mention that in Islamic legal tradition, the idea of formally separating legal obligation from theology and morality has its origins in 13th century Spain.

With this introduction, it now seems imperative to dwell into the purposes of Sharia’h, what constitutes it and the major disagreements regarding the nature of various sources.

Filed under: Islam & Modernity, Suspended Judgments, Traditional Islam , Fiqh, Islamic Law, Shariah

Ghamidi’s interpretation of Islam: Is it a fad that will fizzle out with time?

I have stopped believing strongly since long that Javed Ahmed Ghamidi’s exposition of Islam, more or less like Mutizilite Islam in medieval times and Progressive Islam in modernity, is a fad that will fizzle out automatically with time; however, I still doubt that sometimes. It is primarily a better understanding of traditional Islam, cornerstone of which is Ilm al-Ikhtilaf, which moved me to drop my prejudiced (most probably) contention. Persevered deliberation made me realise that Ghamidi’s Islam, which I often call Contemporary School and which may going to be widely recognised as Islahi’s School, is a movement that would prove to be good for intellectual rejuvenation of Islamic thought; a kind of renaissance, which according to Javed Ghamidi himself began with Shibli Naumani in Indian Subcontinent.

The most striking feature of Contemporary School, to its proponents and those who agree with it, is its effort to posit a simplified and wholesome interpretation of religion. An interpretation which is commonly accessible because unlike classical interpretive methodologies, it is rooted in a singular divine text which can primarily be deconstructed through its language and historical context rather than tradition; an interpretation which is philosophically dynamic as it advances the ethical argument by way of inherent nature of man rather than any textually ordained source; an interpretation which is jurisprudentially liberating because it delimits the ambit of religious obligation by redefining the second most important source of classical jurisprudence, reducing it to a mere handful of practices; most importantly, an interpretation which is intellectually refreshing as it tends to reposition the categories of classical Islam’s legal archetype.

Yet, despite its entirely remarkable outlook, the school of thought in question poses complex paradoxes that seem unresolvable unless the underlying methodology is repeatedly tuned, tweaked and transformed into a consistent whole. A large part of blame, for this contradictory presentation, should be apportioned to modernity itself which has blurred the demarcating lines between various disciplines of religious knowledge, creating an atmosphere which is difficult for sensible and comprehensible communication. It no more matters whether you are getting a religious opinion from a jurist, philosopher or a traditionist; rather most of the times, it is the persuasiveness and sheer strength of argument with which one challenges the ostensible status quo of traditional scholarship that matters. However, whether traditional or contemporary, intensity of the argument should not be allowed to enshroud the underlying incoherence and inconsistency of the method.

Contemporary School asserts that the language of Quran, which is the single most important source text of Shariah, is not polysemantic in nature (a point about which I have already rambled once) and all differences of opinion due to apparent linguistic ambiguities will be resolved by referring to the context of revelation. The assertion, though attractive, is problematic on a number of accounts. It entails that a particular scholar or group’s insistence on absolute meanings of a verse is completely justified and all other explanations may not be seen as acceptable. It also disintegrates the problem of deconstructing the text by introducing an additional variable of context, differences of opinion regarding which will obviously be left unresolved. The magnitude of these contextual differences can be seen by comparing views of Islahi and Ghamidi on al-Ahzab 33: 59. Contemporary school insists that bringing out coherence (nazm) from the textual structure is the foremost principle and prerequisite of Quranic interpretation, which virtually reduces the possibility of true access of Quran to those individuals who have extraordinary command on language and have an exceptionally gifted mind that can appreciate high poetry in another language.

Indeed, we have enough evidence to substantiate that early generations of Muslims preferably interpreted the text through the simplest of meanings unless there is a specific directive from Prophet; otherwise, it seems hard to believe that some of the companions misinterpreted a seemingly straightforward trope, a caliph refused to comment on the meaning of ab’ba, and an exceptional master of language did not know the exact linguistic flavor of faatiris samaawat.

Coherence is a delight of mind and greatly improves one’s involvement in the divine text but it is not a prerequisite for understanding the message of God (not that Islahi contended so).

The ethical argument of Contemporary School is equally implausible, at least when it is applied to the details of religious interpretation. Philosophical skepticism of past two centuries have showed us decisively that ‘human nature’ is one of the most flimsy ground for establishing the moral argument. Even if one avoids the philosophical gibberish, it seems difficult to show arguably why swines and donkeys were made unlawful and camels were made lawful for human consumption; that too, when Ghamidi argues that Quran has prohibited only those comestibles which could not have been decided by human nature alone and Hadith (or Sunnah) cannot add to the Quran. Now, all of us know that camels and donkeys are not mentioned in Quran (in relation to food) and there are people in the world who have no qualms eating a plate full of sliced bacon.

It also seems strange how human nature alone, with its completely relative criteria of judgment, can be trusted to add into the ambit of religious prohibitions? Isn’t it true that Prophet himself used to ‘naturally’ dislike particular kinds of food and edible meat? If not an absurdity, it at least seems a dire contradiction that human nature can be understood as a primary ’source’ of religion on one hand and cannot be understood to define what is Shariah on the other. Is it also not ‘natural’ for men to grow hair on their faces? If it is, how it is not understood to be ordained by Shariah; if it is not, why should it be a recommended practice in religion at all.

By redefining what constitutes Sunnah, Contemporary School has actually redefined the established archetype of traditional Islamic law. The observation might seem exaggerated to some, as it has presumably happened partially in the past also; yet, the manifestation of any of the applied legal principles in the past has not been so consequential ever to delimit Prophetic legal authority to something like 27 practices. As already said, deducing Prophetic legal authority from established regional practices is not a unique idea, however limiting this authority solely to the transmitted practices – of majority – is a completely modernist phenomenon; one which is paradoxically simplistic and seemingly oblivious to methods of historical enquiry.

It is funny as it successfully circumvents the need of Prophetic traditions for proving extra-Quranic legal injunctions (of different shades from prohibited to obligatory) but seeks historical record to substantiate consensus of community.

As much as I mull over regarding the past, present and future of Javed Ahmed Ghamidi’s interpretation of religion, I see it quickly disentangling itself from the modernist tradition of Shiblis, Farahis, Azads, Iqbals and Islahis of the Subcontinent. It still remains doubtful whether history will remember it as a valid school of thought that steered Islam’s sojourn into modernity or another media-sect of Subcontinent, which struggled with itself to remain skeptical about all that reached us through tradition.

Filed under: Hadith & Sunnah, Islam & Modernity, Philosophy, Quran, Scholars, Suspended Judgments , Exegesis, Ghamidi, Hadith, Language, Modernity, Philosophy, Quran, Sunnah, Tradition

Can a person refuse to fight?

…if called upon by the government to do so. Thomas Hobbes would concede this right with some limitations and John Locke would probably deny. And even though Lockean tradition is superior in terms of social contract theory, I tend to take refuge behind Hobbes, considering the Leviathan I am subjected to in my part of the world. But I am still not sure how to tackle this question, which albeit still at some distance, is moving towards me while staring ceaselessly on my face . While the angst is becoming unbearable and the masochist within me is yet again alive after so many years, I ramble inveterately in search of judgment.

For me, to fight or not to fight is not simply a question of making difference to the world by making use of one’s inherent belligerence. Whether metaphysical or ethical, the problem inevitably boils down to the ultimate motive of taking others’ lives by sacrificing your own. I may resist the sovereign in order to preserve myself but how can I justify my resistance in defending others. I am still skeptical about the question, but if the sovereign is equally egoistic, is it ethically culpable to deny defending others?

While I engage my self with the sovereign’s, he gives me another good reason to fight: National interest. Number of questions pop up in my mind. In this context, the raison d’être of my nation’s existence is still debatable. Is it religion or something beyond – or something obscure enough to even care for? Can it be that national interests are similar to citizens’ interests? All citizens or few – or most? But while I am busy unbracing these gordian knots about liberty, sovereign is only obsessed with questions related to property. An onlooker makes me realise that war is already on and interests of nations are unified. But the war is against terror and terror begets no one’s interest – only more terror. Can it be that one nation’s war terrifies other’s existence. Desperately wanting answers, I feel dejected and discombobulated. In my befuddlement, I turn to revelation.

Revelation preoccupies me better; probably, because I have never been a profound realist – always interested more in things metaphysical. While I am sure to exist briefly, I search through revelation and find allowance for fighting. It prescribes by qualifying it as a last resort to stop anarchy and calls it justice; – the only reason to fight for. I focus my mind to this life and start philosophizing about just war theories. The Book also delineates moral and ethical principles for the sovereign to rule – and to fight for. The revelation does not allow me to doubt his intentions and though his voice seldom reaches me, I know that he is a pragmatist. Albeit he wears his intention on his face, I ask him whether he intends ruling by these principles. He ignores my question and defines justice for me instead. I am not sure if fighting anybody else’s war is justice; even if interests appear to be unified. Revelation does not make a mention of interest; whether self, national or international. The sovereign atlast reminds me that I am falling a victim to religious anachronism.

Ceaselessly asking myself if revelation is bounded in time, I am not sure if God would judge me according to borders. I am not even sure if its a valid question to ask. In my suspension, I wait patiently for the actual question to come closer and look back into its eyes.

Filed under: Philosophy, Reflections, Suspended Judgments , Philosophy, Reflections