The Muslim mind
Islam seems to provide an ideological peg of
dignity and resistance to hang Muslim resentments on. This is a dangerous and
brittle source of self–respect but there does not seem to be any viable
alternative. It is this conflicted position of many Muslims which is crucial to
any analysis of our present times
BY AKEEL BILGRAMI
My
commission is to speak about the minority Muslim population of India. The term
‘minority’ marked a subject of study, only after statistics began to influence
the governance of societies as well as influence the methodology of the social
sciences. But its point and rationale, of course, was to generate a site of much
more than statistical importance — such is the power of numbers.
Thought of in purely descriptive terms, it is intended
to convey the site of ethnicities, religions, races, and less often these days,
of socio-economic station. Thought of in more evaluative terms, it is often the
carrier of rights, partly because it is often the target of discrimination. All
of these things are absolutely central to what I am about to say, but I will
approach the subject a little more obliquely: by seeing the Muslim minority in
India as the site of a certain mentality.
And here is
a curious thing. Even casual reflection on the subject suggests a mildly
paradoxical conclusion: that it is precisely this minority mentality which is to
be found among the Muslim majority populations all over the world. We owe this
paradox to the abiding power of colonial history, even after formal
decolonization, a subject to which I’ll return, at the end.
Though it is a banality by now to say in a general way
that there are many Islams, it is worth saying that it is perhaps more true of
the Indian sub-continent than of anywhere else in the world. Apart from the
sectarian distinctions between the Sunnis and Shias (who comprise about ten
percent of Muslims in India), and the regional dispersal of Punjabi, Bengali,
Hindusthani, Mapillah, Gujarati, and Oriya Muslims, there has been much
diversity in the spiritual and scholarly leadership as well, shaping an
extremely differentiated religious culture in the country over the last three
centuries.
In the
eighteenth century there were figures of influence such as Shah Wali Allah of
the Nashqbandi tradition situated in the more courtly ethos of princes, to the
more populist Chishti Sufi tradition of Shah Abdullah Bhitai, Bullhe Shah, and
the poets Mir and Dard; then there was the later reformist strain owing to Sir
Syed Ahmad Khan, Chiragh Ali, the Shia thinker Ameer Ali, the novelist Nazir
Ahmad and the Shibli Numani of the Nadvatul Ulema, there was the famous Deoband
school and its network for providing traditional learning of the Ulema, the even
more orthodox Ahl–i–Hadith school which favoured the strict letter of Hanafi
law, as well as the much more relaxed Barelvi tradition stressing very local
customary practices, and the remarkable Ahmadiyyas who emerged under the
leadership of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, who claimed that he was at once the Muslim
Mahdi, the Christian Messiah, and the avatar of Krishna.
The twentieth century saw
figures ranging from the poet Muhammad Iqbal, to Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, the
refined and learned exemplar of the Congress slogan of ‘composite’ Hindu–Muslim
culture, to the wholly different Maulana Maududi (and his following in the
Jamaat–i–Islami, now in Pakistan), who may rightly be described as
fundamentalist because of his insistence on the return to the Quran and the
Hadith, and who was of much influence on Syed Qutb, the Egyptian fundamentalist
thinker said to be the inspiration of self–styled jihadi groups today which are
linked to Osama bin Laden.
It is
noticeable that coursing through this diversity, Muslim religious life in India
has been characterized by two broadly opposed tendencies. On the one hand, at
the level of ritual, ceremony, and a broad range of other quotidian practice,
there is a great deal of pragmatic and syncretic (“sufistic”) retention of local
features that are quite continuous with many aspects of Hindu life and cultural
practice. On the other, there is the scriptural and transcendental, and
normative element tied to the ulema and characterized by a deferential gaze that
goes beyond the local toward the Arab lands from where the classical doctrine
originated.
This is
hardly surprising since the Islamic faith itself arrived in India via travels
through Persia and Turkey and Central Asia acquiring local accretions from
there, so the ultimate and formal, bookish elements had always to be recalled in
self–conscious ways at all points in the midst of often livelier homegrown and
alien elements.
That double
movement — of form and root — has persisted in India through the centuries to
this day, and though there is much integration of the two elements there is
often rivalry between them, not just in the rural and poorer sections of
society, but even in such highly metropolitan cultural productions of
Hindusthani music or the Hindi cinema of Bombay, which might quite properly be
regarded as the last, urban outposts of sufism, still to some extent resisting
the narrowing doctrinal visions of Muslim (as well as Brahmanical Hindu)
religious orthodoxy.
It is
precisely this double movement which is increasingly made precarious by
developments over the last few decades, and by some striking recent events of
which the aftermath of September 11 is the most spectacular. There is, to begin
with, the relative poverty of Muslims in India ever since the more landed and
educated Muslims, fearing loss of estate and discrimination in career
opportunities in India, left for Pakistan during the partition. For those who
stayed, those fears have largely been realized.
There was
also another major loss, the loss of their language, Urdu (indeed the language
of many Hindus in north India as well), which was given away as an exclusive
gift to Pakistan because the Indian leaders, for all their avowed pluralism and
secularism, were unable to withstand the nationalistic pique of Hindu ideologues
in their own Congress party who put great pressure to drop Urdu altogether as a
medium of instruction in the national and regional school curricula.
And, in
general, ever since the passing of Nehru, there had been a tendency in the
Congress party, the party which led the national freedom movement and which has
dominated government until very recently, to adopt the most debased and cynical
strategy that democracy allows, the strategy of trying to win elections by
appealing to majoritarian sentiment against minorities such as Muslims and
Sikhs.
This
strategy which culminated in two hideous events — the pogrom against the Sikhs
after Indira Gandhi’s assassination and the destruction of the mosque at Ayodhya
by a mob of Hindu political activists — has ironically led to repeated defeat of
the Congress party at the hands of the BJP, a party of Hindu nationalist
ideology which can play the majoritarian game much more openly and brazenly than
the Congress which, with its hypocritical avowals of secularism, could not.
The Muslim
‘minority’ in India therefore has had the ideological potential to vex in at
least two ways. First, it is open to perception as a minority which is descended
from the Muslim conquerors who ruled for centuries over a predominantly Hindu
people, and thus a good target for ‘historical’ revenge. Second, it is open to
the perception of being a residual population, one that had its choice of
leaving for the newly created Muslim nation of Pakistan in 1947, but which chose
to stay, so it must now adapt in accord with the culture of the Hindu nation it
opted for.
These
ideological perceptions, once merely the vision of a fringe, thought of as the
“Hindu Right” and opposed to the secular tendencies of the central leadership of
the freedom movement and of post-Independent India — most particularly of Gandhi
and Nehru — is now very much the vision of the majoritarian Hindu ideology that
underlies the national government at the Centre, as well as in some (but by no
means all) of the states and regions in the country. (Indeed regionalism in
politics may at present be the only check on rampant Hindutva self–assertion at
the Centre).
Even
putting aside the dubious conceptual elements in these perceptions (i.e., the
very idea of ‘historical” revenge, and the restriction of choice to the options
“Either go to a Muslim nation or stay in a Hindu one”) there are plain
historical facts which expose their falsity. With regard to the first
perception, there is the fact that most Muslims today are not descendants of a
conquering people, but Hindu converts; and there is the fact that a number of
Muslim rulers in India showed a remarkable amount of religious tolerance,
comparable at least to Muslim rule in mediaeval Spain.
With regard
to the second, there is the fact of the essentially and helplessly sedentary
nature of the poor and labouring classes which made immigration over thousands
of miles no serious option at all, and there is the fact of the idealism of both
this class and the much smaller but admittedly more mobile educated middle class
of Muslims who thought a secular India was a better option than a nation created
on the basis of religion. But these are mere contemptible facts, and ideological
perceptions, as we know, are the products of a free social imagination
manipulated and nourished as distorted abstractions away from plain facts such
as these.
This
ideological situation has made Indian Muslims deeply resentful and defensive in
their mentality. And this mentality is adversely affecting the double movement I
mentioned, of rooted quotidian syncretic diversity on the one hand and
invocation of scriptural form and fundamentals on the other, by threatening to
tilt the balance in favour of the latter over the former. In a situation where
material life as well as self–respect is increasingly threatened by alarming
majoritarian tendencies in the polity, the absolutist doctrinal side of the
double movement is holding out promise of dignity and autonomy in the name of
Islam, specially among the young.
The
attractions are utterly illusory of course — they are manifestly undemocratic,
they are deeply reactionary on issues of gender equality, and they are phobic in
the extreme of modernity, even a homegrown and non–western path to modernity.
They are ‘reactionary’ in every sense of the term, and one point I am stressing
is that they are reactionary also in the sense of being a reaction to the
feelings of helplessness and defeat, and the seeming lack of viable alternatives
to cope with these feelings.
To give
just one example of reaction–formation, one response to the combination of
poverty, lack of career opportunity and the loss of Urdu has been the rise of
the phenomenon of the madrassa, which are religious schools peppered all over
the country but specially in north India, very often financed by Saudi Arabian
largesse, and which offer free education in Urdu, and a place for boys from
poverty–stricken families to live without cost while they train into strict
scriptural doctrine, providing a recruitment ground for future careers in
fundamentalist movements.
This is just one example, as I said, and all of it
predictably leads to more backlash from Hindu ideologues, and in turn more
defensiveness, surfacing in more aggressive reactions among the Muslims.
These
reactions have surfaced in the pro–Taliban statements of religious leaders such
as Imam Bukhari in Delhi, and the student group SIMI, which the government in a
predictable display of double standards has banned, even as it actually
encourages the inflammatory activities of Hindu activist groups. Recently, the
police in Jaipur have attacked Muslim meetings and in Bombay they have even
disrupted sermons in mosques to arrest religious leaders for making politically
dangerous statements, while routine acts of terror by the Shiv Sena and Hindu
RSS-sponsored groups are tolerated, partly at least because they have
infiltrated the police.
I want to
say something about this defensive and reactive Muslim mentality.
What is
most striking is that it is precisely this mentality which is found all over the
Muslim world, even where Muslims are an overwhelming majority, the only
difference being that the reaction there is of course not to Hindus but to
American (and Israeli) presence and dominance. I will not catalogue the whole
familiar (and what would be dreary if it were not so palpable) catalogue of the
wrongs of American foreign policy in the Middle–East, not to mention Vietnam,
East Timor, Chile and various other parts of Latin America.
To be
highly selective, from the assassination of a decent and humane leader like
Mossadegh right down to the detailed support over the years of corrupt, elitist
and tyrannical leaders in Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran, and so on, to the cynical
arming and training of Muslim extremists in Afghanistan, as well as the
longstanding support for occupation by expansionist settlement in Palestinian
territories, America, driven as always by corporate interests, has, as is
well–known, bred a resentful reaction among non–elite sections of the population
all over Muslim lands.
That all this follows a long history of colonial subjugation and condescension
by European powers, even after decolonization, involves all of the West as the
target of such reaction. For some years now, this resentment has taken on an
explicitly religious, Islamist rhetoric, again because Islam seems to provide an
ideological peg of dignity and resistance to hang these resentments on. All this
is familiar, though what perhaps is less so, is that initially anti-American
Islamism was much more prevalent in Iran than in client- states such as Saudi
Arabia. But as a result of Al–Jazeera and other forms of communication made
possible by new technologies, ordinary Muslims even in client–states like Saudi
Arabia have been exposed to some of the political and economic realities around
them and have been able to detach themselves from the cognitive clutch of the
royal family and elites, to join with anti–American groups in neighbouring and
even far–flung lands, from the caves of Afghanistan to cells in Hamburg and New
Jersey.
The point
of importance however is this. That this Islamist rhetoric is a dangerous and
brittle source of self–respect is obvious to most Muslims in these countries,
but there does not seem even to them to be any viable alternative, and it is
this conflicted position of many Muslims which I think should be crucial to any
analysis of our present times.
I think it
can safely be said that as a matter of ubiquitous empirical fact — whether in
Mumbai or Cairo, Karachi or Tehran, Afghanistan or Saudi Arabia, New Jersey or
Bradford, most Muslims are not absolutists at all, and are in fact deeply
opposed to the absolutists in their midst. This is evident in the fact that
whenever there have been elections the ‘fundamentalist’ parties have failed to
gain power, whether in Iran or in Pakistan. Even those who do not oppose the
fundamentalists are too busy with their occupations and preoccupations to be
seduced by any absolutist fantasies about an Islamic revival worth fighting for.
Yet these
ordinary Muslims who form the overwhelming majority in Muslim nations have not
had the confidence and courage to come out and openly criticize the absolutists
and this is because they too are affected by the defensive mentality that
pervades these regions. To be openly critical seems even to them to be a
capitulation to Western habits and attitudes of arrogant domination, going back
to colonial history and, as I said, palpably present in their lives even today.
What would give them the confidence and courage to be critical of the
absolutists in their midst? This is a question of the utmost urgency in our
time, and it should be a question that is on the mind of every humane and
sensitive American today.
What is
perfectly obvious is that bombing the hell out of a starving nation is not going
to do it, nor is the constant pinning of the problem as being one of Islam
versus freedom and modernity. It is not freedom that ordinary non–fundamentalist
Muslims are against, it is not modernity which they want to shun, it is the
naked corporate–driven wrongs of American and western dominance of their regions
which they oppose; and if they confusedly sit silently by as Islam is invoked in
grotesque distortions by the most detestable elements in their society to be the
ultimate source of resistance against this domination, it behooves those of us
who are more privileged in having escaped these resentments and their causes, to
try to give them the confidence to see their way out of this confusion.
To do so,
we will have to call things as they obviously are, obvious to everyone except
some insular American citizens unaware of the effects of their government’s
actions in the world, and much more culpably, journalists who speak and write in
the mainstream media, and mandarin intellectuals in university forums such as
this one. We will have to say that what happened on September 11 was an act of
atrocious, senseless, and unpardonable cruelty. But we will have to say also
that the bombing of a parched and hungry nation with the effect of quite
possibly creating genocidal levels of starvation is an act of utter immorality,
merely the last and among the worst in a century filled with such immoral
interventions.
All that
can only be the first step in working towards addressing the deep historical and
contemporary sources of this defensive mentality. We should not be so foolish as
to expect that there is any chance whatever that it will be addressed by this or
any realistically foreseeable American government of the near or even middle
future, but that does not absolve us here of our responsibility as intellectuals
to write and speak out in these ways.
In doing
so, we cannot forget that the confused Islamist rhetorical overlayer by which
this defensive mentality presents itself to the world is a reactionary rhetoric
of the supposed pieties and glories of an Islamic past, but the hopes and
aspirations not of fundamentalists but of ordinary Muslims who have succumbed to
their rhetoric, are existential hopes and aspirations for a future in which a
radically politicized Islam has no particular place and point at all.
If we see
that with clarity, our own efforts need not fall into the confusions that the
rhetoric encourages, as some writers (Hitchens, Rushdie, Sontag, Sullivan to
name just a handful) clearly have when they write articles in leading magazines
and newspapers with titles such as “Who Said It is Not About Religion!” These
sleek writers with their fine phrases are buying into the very confusion of
those whom they are opposing and in doing so they are letting down the millions
of ordinary Muslims all over the world who in the end are the only weapons
America has against its terrorist enemies.
(The
writrer is Johnsonian Professor of Philosophy in the Department of Philosophy,
Columbia University, New York). <[email protected]>
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