Islam, Fundamentalism, and the Betrayal of Tradition is the first book to account for the religious, historical and political dimensions of Islamic fundamentalism in a single volume. It provides analysis based upon spiritual principles, rather than conjecture based political prejudices. This book provides the context necessary for a deeper understanding of important issues pertaining to Islam and the modern Middle East. It accomplishes this by explaining the traditional Islamic perspective in a contemporary language. Some essays analyze the historical background of Islamic militancy, demonstrating how the scriptures and teachings of Islam condemn religious fanaticism and gratuitous aggression. Some examine the conditions that allowed for the rise of such an aberration, while others address the divide between East and West, bringing into relief the pressures of modernization and globalization which have produced an internal confusion which fans the flames of religious extremism.

Written as a collaborative effort by a group of young Muslim scholars, this volume questions much of the prevailing “wisdom” regarding extremist interpretations of Islam. Contributors include Seyyed Hossein Nasr (preface), David Dakake, Reza Shah-Kazemi, Fuad Naeem, Waleed El-Ansary, Ibrahim Kalin, Ejaz Akram, and T.J. Winter.

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Table of Contents:

Preface by Seyyed Hossein Nasr
Editor’s Introduction by Joseph Lumbard

Part I: RELIGIOUS FOUNDATIONS

The Myth of a Militant Islam by David Dakake
The Decline of Knowledge and the Rise of Ideology in the Modern Islamic World by Joseph Lumbard
A Traditional Islamic Response to the Rise of Modernism by Fuad Naeem

Part II: HISTORICAL DIMENSIONS

Recollecting the Spirit of Jihâd by Reza Shah-Kazemi
Roots of Misconception: Euro-American Perceptions of Islam Before and After 9/11 by Ibrahim Kalin

Part III: POLITICAL DIMENSIONS

The Economics of Terrorism: How bin Laden is Changing the Rules of the Game by Waleed El-Ansary
The Muslim World and Globalization: Modernity and the Roots of Conflict by Ejaz Akram

EPILOGUE

The Poverty of Fanaticism by T. J. Winter

Notes on Contributors
Index

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An Excerpt from Chapter 1, 

"The Myth of a Militant Islam"

by David Dakake

In the post-September 11th environment there is an urgent need for a clear enunciation of the views of traditional Islam in regard to jihâd, so-called “holy war.” The first matter which needs to be made clear is that jihâd is not simply fighting or holy warfare. In Arabic, jihâd literally means “effort,” that is, to exert oneself in some way or another. Within the context of Islam, jihâd has the meaning of exerting oneself for the sake of God, and this exertion can be in an infinite number of ways, from giving charity and feeding the poor, to concentrating intently in one’s prayers, to controlling one’s self and showing patience and forgiveness in the face of offenses, to gaining authentic knowledge, to physical fighting to stop oppression and injustice. Generally speaking, anything that requires something of us—that is, requires that we go beyond the confines of our individual ego and desires— or anything that we bear with or strive after for the sake of pleasing God can be spoken of as a “jihâd” in Islam.[1] This understanding of jihâd is such that when the “five pillars” [2] of the faith are taught, jihâd is sometimes classified as a “sixth pillar” which pervades the other five, representing an attitude or intention that should be present in whatever one does for the sake of God. 

This being said, there is no doubt that jihâd has an important martial aspect. To understand this we should remember that within the Islamic tradition the term “jihâd” has been understood to possess two poles: an outward pole and an inward pole. These two poles are illustrated in the words of the Prophet of Islam when he said to his companions, after they had returned from a military campaign in defense of the Medinan community: “We have returned from the lesser (asghar) jihâd to the greater (akbar) jihâd.”[3] Here the lesser jihâd refers to physical fighting, whereas having come back to the relative physical safety of their city of Medina, the Muslims faced yet a greater jihâd—namely, the struggle against the passionate, carnal soul that constantly seeks its own self-satisfaction above all else, being forgetful of God. This famous saying of the Prophet emphasizes the hierarchy of the two types of jihâd, as well as the essential “balance” that must be maintained between its outward and inward forms, [4] a balance often neglected in the approach of certain modern Islamic groups that seek to reform people and society from “without,” forcing change in the outward behavior of men and women without first bringing about a sincere change in their hearts and minds. This is the lesson of the words of the Qur’an when God says, “We never change the state of a people until they change themselves” (13:11).[5] This lesson, as we shall see when we examine the earliest military jihâd, was not lost on the first Muslims. 

In the present crisis, the pronouncements of many self-styled Middle East “experts” and Muslim “authorities” who have dealt with the subject of jihâd have generally been of two kinds. There have been those who have sought, in a sense, to brush aside the whole issue and history of military jihâd in Islam in favor of a purely spiritualized notion of “striving” in the way of God; and there have been those, both Muslim and non-Muslim, who have provided literal or surface readings of Qur’anic verses related to jihâd and “fighting” (qital) in an attempt to reduce all of Islam to military jihâd.[6] The first view represents an apologetic attitude that attempts to satisfy Western notions of non-violence and political correctness but, in so doing, provides an “understanding” that lacks any real relationship to the thought of the majority of Muslim peoples throughout Islamic history. The second view, which would make Islam synonymous with “warfare,” is the result either of sheer ignorance or of political agendas that are served by the perpetuation of animosity between peoples. This second position ignores entirely the commentary and analysis of the Islamic intellectual tradition that has served for over one thousand years as a key for Muslims to understand Qur’anic pronouncements related to jihâd. In this essay we will neither water down the analysis of jihâd to suit those modernists who oppose any notions of legitimate religious struggle and conflict, nor disregard, as do the “fundamentalists,” the intellectual and spiritual heritage of Islam which has defined for traditional Muslims the validity, but also the limitations, of the lesser jihâd. 

In carrying out this study we propose to examine those verses of the Qur’an that deal with fighting, as well as those which define those who are to be fought against in jihâd. We will also provide, along with this textual analysis of Qur’anic doctrines of war, an historical analysis of the actual forms of the earliest jihâd and the conduct of the mujahidûn, the fighters in jihâd, as exemplified by the Prophet of Islam and his successors, the “Rightly-guided Caliphs,” given that their actions have served for Muslims as an indispensable example to clarify Qur’anic pronouncements.[7] In this way, we hope to avoid both the etherialization of jihâd by Muslim apologists, and the distortions of the tradition at the hands of the “fundamentalists.” Lastly, we will examine “fundamentalist” interpretations of jihad and compare them with the traditional understanding of jihad in the early Qur’anic commentaries and the actual history of Islam.

“Do Not Take Christians and Jews as Awliya’ ”

Following the events of September 11th there is one verse of the Qur’an which has often been quoted by radio announcers, talk-show hosts, and “fundamentalists” in both the East and the West. Before we deal with the actual issue of warfare or military jihâd, it is necessary to say something about this verse which, if not understood correctly, can bias any further discussions. This verse appears in chapter 5, verse 51 of the Qur’an: 

O, you who believe [in the message of Muhammad], do not take Jews and Christians as awliya’ . They are awliya’ to one another, and the one among you who turns to them is of them. Truly, God does not guide wrongdoing folk.
The word awliya’ (sing. walî), which we left above in the original Arabic, has been commonly translated into English as “friends.”[8] Given this translation, the verse appears to be a very clear statement opposing what we might term “normative” or “kindly relations” between Muslims and non- Muslims; but when we look at the traditional Qur’anic commentaries of medieval times, which discuss the events surrounding the revelation of this verse, the modern translation becomes suspect. But before examining this issue in depth, it is necessary to clarify the importance of “verse context” in the Qur’an. Here a comparison between the Biblical text and the Qur’an is helpful. 

Comparing the Bible and the Qur’an, we can use certain images to illustrate some of the major stylistic differences between the two sacred scriptures. We could say, for example, that the Bible is like a “flowing stream”; when one reads the text there is a constant contextualization of the various verses, stories, chapters, and books. One begins reading with the story of Genesis, the creation of the world and the first man and woman, and then proceeds on through time, moving into the stories of the early patriarchs, then the later Hebrew judges and prophets, the coming of Christ, the post-Jesus community of the Apostles, and finally the end of the world in the Book of Revelation. As one reads the Bible there is a historical context established for each of the major stories and events which enables the reader to situate what is being said within time and space, and indeed priority. The orientation of events as related to the chapters and verses is made explicit through the historical “flow” of the stories and, in the case of the New Testament, the eventual culmination of the text and all history. 

In contrast, if we were to use an image to illustrate the Qur’anic revelation, it would be that of an individual standing upon a mountain at night as lightning flashes on him and in a valley below. [9] As this individual looks out upon the landscape shrouded in darkness, he would see sudden flashes, sudden illuminations of different portions of the mountain and the valley, but there would not appear to be any immediate relationship between these different illuminated regions, surrounded as they are by vast shadows. Of course, a relationship does exist between the different areas illuminated by the lightning, but that relationship is not explicit. It is hidden amid the darkness. This is something like the situation that is faced by the reader upon first examining the Qur’an. One will often read sections of the text and wonder what is the relationship between the various pronouncements that one encounters, for the Qur’an does not tell “stories” as the Western reader is accustomed to from the Biblical tradition. In fact, there is only one “full-length” story in the Qur’anic text, in the chapter on the prophet Joseph. The rest of the Qur’an is a series of verses grouped into chapters and sections, and often two verses right next to one another will actually refer to two completely different events in the life of the early Islamic community. It is for this reason that the Qur’anic commentary tradition (tafsîr) deals so extensively with what is known in Arabic as asbâb al-nuzûl, or the occasions for God revealing particular Qur’anic verses. Without reference to these “occasions” of revelation most of the verses of the Qur’an would be susceptible to any and all forms of interpretation. This issue of the need for knowledge of the commentary tradition is, of course, further complicated— for those unable to read the original Arabic text—by translations, which often add yet another layer of difficulty for coming to terms with the meaning of the verses. When we examine verse 5:51, we encounter both these problems of context and translation. 

The difficulties in understanding verse 5:51 begin with the translation of the Arabic word awliya’, commonly rendered as “friends.” In the context of this verse, the word awliya’ does not mean “friends” at all, as we use the term in English, and we know this from examining the occasion for its revelation. While it is true that awliya’ can mean “friends,” it has additional meanings such as “guardians,” “protectors,” and even “legal guardians.” When we consult the traditional commentaries on the Qur’an, we are told that this verse was revealed at a particularly delicate moment in the life of the early Muslim community. To understand this verse it is thus necessary to explain the existential situation of the Muslims at this time in Arabia. 

Before 5:51 was revealed, the Prophet of Islam and the Muslims had only recently migrated as a community from Makka to Medina, some 400 kilometers to the north. They had done so, according to Islamic histories, due to the persecution to which they were subjected at the hands of their fellow tribesmen and relatives in Makka. Most Makkans worshipped many idols as “gods” and feared the rising interest in the message of Muhammad within the city, even though he was himself a son of Makka. The Makkans feared the growing presence of the Muslims amongst them because the Muslims claimed that there was only one true God, who had no physical image, and who required of men virtue, generosity, and fair and kind treatment of the weaker members of society. This simple message, in fact, threatened to overturn the order of Makkan society, based as it was upon the worship of multiple gods and the privilege of the strong and the wealthy. It also threatened to disrupt the economic benefits of this privilege, the annual pilgrimage season, when peoples from all over Arabia would come to worship their many idols/gods at the Ka’ba—a cubical structure which the Qur’an claims was originally built by Abraham and his son Ishmael as a temple to the one God, before the decadence of religion in Arabia.[10] The message of Islam threatened to replace the social and economic system of Makkan polytheism with the worship of the one God, Who—as in the stories of the Old Testament—would not allow that others be worshiped alongside Him. In this difficult environment the Prophet of Islam preached peacefully the message of monotheism and virtue, but he and his small band of followers were eventually driven from the city by torture, embargo, threats of assassination, and various other forms of humiliation and abuse. The Muslims then migrated to Medina where the Prophet had been invited to come and live in safety with his followers and where the main Arab tribes of the city had willingly accepted his message and authority. 

According to one of the earliest and most famous Qur’anic commentators, al-Tabarî (225-310 A.H. / 839-923 C.E.), it was not long after this migration to Medina that verse 5:51 was revealed. Specifically, al-Tabarî tells us that this verse came down around the time of the battle of Badr (2 A.H. / 623 C.E.) or perhaps after the battle of Uhud (3 A.H. / 625 C.E.).[11] In these early days the Muslim community constituted no more than a few hundred people and had already left the city of Makka; yet the Makkans continued to attempt to confront them militarily, and these two early battles, as well as others, were crucial events in the history of the early Islamic community. Militarily, the Makkans were a far more powerful force than the Muslims and they had allies throughout Arabia. Given the small numbers of the Muslims, the Prophet and his fledgling community faced the real possibility of utter annihilation should they lose any of these early conflicts. Al-Tabarî tells us that within this highly charged environment some members of the Muslim community wanted to make individual alliances with other non- Muslim tribes in the region. Within Medina there were Jewish tribes who constituted a powerful presence in the town and who were on good terms with the Makkans, and to the north of the city there were also Christian Arab tribes. Some Muslims saw the possibility of making alliances with one or more of these groups as a way of guaranteeing their own survival should the Makkan armies ultimately triumph. This was the stark reality of Arabia at that time; it was only through the protection of one’s tribe or alliances with other tribes or clans that one’s individual security was insured. 

From the perspective of Islam, however, the Prophet realized that a young community, faced with great peril, could not allow such “dissension” in the ranks of the faithful as would be created by various individuals making bonds of loyalty with other groups not committed to the Islamic message. Indeed, from the Islamic point of view such actions, had they been allowed, would have been a kind of communal suicide that would have seriously undermined Muslim unity, broken the morale of the community (umma), and perhaps caused the many individuals making such alliances to lack fortitude in the face of danger. Bearing these historical issues in mind, it becomes obvious that the translation of awliya’ as “friends” is incorrect. It should be rendered, in accord with another of its traditional Arabic meanings, as “protectors” or “guardians” in the strict military sense of these terms. The verse should be read as, “Do not take Christians and Jews as your protectors. They are protectors to one another…” This is the true message of the verse, and the appropriateness of this understanding is supported by the fact that the Qur’an does not oppose simple kindness between peoples, as is clear from verse 60:8, to which we shall now turn.…


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Notes
1. As regards women, for example, there are hadîth that declare that the “jihad of women” is making the pilgrimage (hajj) to Makka. See Bukhârî, Sahîh al-Bukhârî (Medina: Dâr al-Fikr, n.d.), vol. 4, pp. 36, 83-84 (Kitâb al-jihâd, hadîth n. 43, 127, 128). There are also hadîth concerning the various types of death that qualify one as a martyr (shahîd), i.e., as having died like a fighter in jihâd. One such type of death is said to be the death of a woman in childbirth. Other traditions in Sahîh al-Bukhârî imply that women can fulfill the duty of jihâd by attending to the wounded on the battlefield (see Sahîh, vol. 4, pp. 86-87, hadîth n. 131-134). See also Muslim, Sahîh Muslim (printed with commentaries) (Beirut: Dâr al-Kutub al-þIlmiyya, 1978), vol. 5, pp. 153, 157. 

2 These are: 1) testifying that there is only one true God and that Muhammad is His messenger, 2) praying five times a day, 3) paying a charity-tax every year, 4) fasting during the month of RamaÐân, and 5) making a pilgrimage to Makka once in one’s life, if one has the means and the health to do so. 

3 See ‘Aljunî, Kashf al-khafâ’ (Beirut: Dâr Ihyâ’ al-Turâth al-‘Arabî, 1968), hadîth n. 1362. 

4 It should be noted that “outward jihâd” is by no means only military in nature. The arena of outward jihâd is the level of human action. It is not concerned with inner attitudes of the soul, such as sincerity and love (which constitute the realm of the inner jihâd) but with proper outward action alone, as defined by the religious law (sharî‘a). 

5 The word translated here as “themselves,” anfusihim in Arabic, may be more literally translated as “their souls.” This demonstrates an essential Qur’ ânic perspective: the inner struggle (i.e., “until they change their souls”) takes precedence over the outer struggle (i.e., the particular state in which a people exist at the moment) and furthermore, that no amount of purely outward actions can overcome hypocrisy of soul. 

6 There are a few important exceptions to this categorization. Among them are the articles of Khaled Abou El Fadl, “The Place of Tolerance in Islam,” in the book by the same title, eds. J. Cohen and I. Lague (Beacon Press, 2002), “The Rules of Killing at War: An Inquiry into the Classical Sources,” Muslim World 89, no. 2 (April 1999), and Sherman Jackson, “Jihad and the Modern World,” The Journal of Islamic Law and Culture (Spring/Summer 2002). 

7 For examples of how these traditional teachings were followed in later generations see Reza Shah-Kazemi’s “Recollecting the Spirit of Jihâd” in this volume. 

8 Although it is incorrect in this context, the six major translations of the Qur’ ân available in English, those of A. J. Arberry, Marmaduke Pickthall, N. J. Dawood, Yusuf Ali, Ahmad Ali, and El-Hilali/Khan, all translate the word awliyâ‘ as “friends.” 

9 We owe this image to Dr. Seyyed Hossein Nasr. 

10 Qur’ ân 2:125-129. 

11 Al-Tabarî, Jâmi‘ al-bayân ‘an ta’wîl ây al-qur’ân (Beirut: Dâr al-Fikr, 1995), vol. 4, pp. 372-373.

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