Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who’s the most knowing thinker of all? Q-News Magazine
1 May 2006

9/11, 7-7 and the ‘war on terror’ have spawned an entire Islam industry. But which shoot-from-the-hip, angry and self-important Muslim spokesmen should we listen to, asks Mohamed M. Husain.

I left Britain in March 2003. I had booked a one-way ticket to Syria, to study Islam with women and men who have been servicing the faith and its rich tradition of scholarship and spiritual nourishment for centuries. After two years in Damascus, I relocated to Saudi Arabia. Admittedly, I did not last long in Jeddah, packing my bags and returning home to London in September 2005. While I am delighted to be home again in the city of my birth and upbringing, something, has not been quite right.

Islam and Muslims have been in the news almost every day. The dark cloud of the ghastly events of 7/7 still hangs over us. National media outlets are busy promoting previously unknown individuals as ‘experts on Islam’ and ‘spokesmen for Muslims’ - after all they are mostly men. Sadly many of them are out of their depth, desperately struggling to posit an argument.

‘Why don’t they speak to T J Winter?’ my wife occasionally asks, annoyed. ‘Or Abdullah Trevathan from Islamia school? Or Humera Khan from Wembley?’ I know I am not alone in feeling misrepresented. Many of my Muslim friends feel the same way.

However, the malaise is deeper than a handful of publicity-craving ‘spokesmen’. During my early teens, I was involved with political Islamist organisations, working up the ranks of youth wings of Islamist organisations in London with their roots in movements in the Muslim world. Then, I spent two years as an angry foot soldier of Hizb-ut-Tahrir, before my exposure to calm, traditional Muslim scholarship. I resolutely turned my back on political Islam. Now, almost seven years later, I know that my fury-ridden life in Islamism was not Islam, but politicking in the name of Islam. Since then, I have been blessed to have sat at the feet of some of the most illustrious Muslim scholars in Madinah, Damascus, Istanbul, Cairo, Jeddah, and London and, consequently, know only too well that Islam-'ism’, a political ideology, is the perversion of a religious tradition, the destructive politicisation of a time-honoured spiritual path.

Distributing leaflets for an Islamist organisation, or attending secret meetings in council estates, and plotting to support a so-called jihad against the West does not qualify anyone to speak in the name of all Muslims. Anjem Choudary and his brigade of yobs, the irate orphans left behind by the self-exiled Omar Bakri, know that they are on the fringes of an extremist minority, but their sensationalism is too tempting for certain sections of the British media to ignore. Today, the mainstream, moderate, mosque-going majority of Muslims is not only threatened by Islamist extremists of all shades, but also a new breed of ‘liberal’ Muslims.

This latter category is also represented by those who, among other things, call for the ‘democratisation of the Koran’ and a ‘Do-it-Yourself’ approach to understanding Islamic scripture. At a recent debate at the London School of Economics, there were two high-profile public Muslim intellectuals calling for reform within Islam. One, Tariq Ramadan, called for new modes of ijtihad while the other, Zia Sardar, advocated a complete severance with the past and an individual return to the Koran by ‘each and every Muslim’.

Tariq Ramadan, Oxford-based scholar and grandson of the founder of the Muslim Brotherhood, reiterated what is in his books: a new reading of Islamic texts, comprehending scripture within a historical context and the role of Western Muslims as citizens of their nations. Undoubtedly, Ramadan has much to offer and asks pertinent questions in his publications. However, there are those Muslims who mistrust his approach - questioning whether he is an apologist for Islamist organisations and whether his approach to ijtihad is just too broad.

Sardar, on the other hand, referred to his brand of Islamic knowledge as ‘democratisation of the Koran’. To the young ears of budding academics at the LSE, this may have sounded rather attractive but it is a discourse fraught with peril. Where Ramadan’s starting point was re-reading texts, Sardar’s was abandoning the texts. If re-reading scripture results in the loss of the word and spirit of the text, why bother with the text? At this stage of their mutual evolution, Tariq Ramadan, to be fair, was a little more respectful of traditional scholars, or the ulama, whereas Zia Sardar was scathing in his vitriol against the ulama.

Ten years ago I too was an angry, motor-mouthed activist raging against the ulama. I recited a litany of grievances against them whenever I was given the opportunity. Today, subdued and more aware, I beg to differ. The ulama are not a monolithic, homogenous body. Contrary to Ramadan’s assertions, they do not represent ‘only text’. It is a fallacy to argue that the ulama are detached from reality and are merely ulama al-nusoos, or ‘textual specialists’ as Ramadan argued. Anyone who sat with well-grounded ulama will agree that meaningful exposure to serious scholarship is refreshing, challenging, nuanced, spiritually lifting and intellectually humbling.

During the 1950s in Egypt and Pakistan, most of the ulama stood boldly against the politicisation of Islam. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, if we Muslims are serious about living our faith, then we must stand by those who have inherited a holistic Islam from our ancient spiritual master, the noble Prophet Muhammad. Granted, the ulama are not faultless, but dismissing their contribution and vital role would be a case of throwing out the baby with the proverbial bathwater.

The Islamists did exactly that and then unleashed a beast of terror, underpinned by the freewheeling interpretations of jihadi Salafis, which is now beyond the control of Islamist organisations.

In the wake of 9/11, 7/7, the invasion of Iraq and other events, there is real concern among non-Muslims and Muslims to understand one another and bring relative peace to our shared world. And in the midst of this renewed interest in Islam, a whole Islam industry, not unlike the race industry in Britain and the US, is in its nascent stages. It is a phenomenon from which few us will be immune.

The Islam industry, like its ‘Islamist movement’ predecessor of the last century, is dominated by urbanite professionals who are not remotely familiar with the thousand-year-old Islamic tradition of deep thought, training, nuance, tolerance and spirituality. Today, we run the risk of accepting DIY Islam, already manifest in the actions of tube bombers and plane hijackers, who validate their terror on their own terms, their ‘democratisation of the Koran’ and not with reference to the understanding of generations of ulama. Sardar and his ilk may appease his New Statesman readership, or Sky News viewers on Friday evenings, but philosophy of open, unregulated ijtihad - void of scholarly guidance - leaves the possibility of that very literal reading of the text that has been used to support ‘sacred’ acts of violence in the first place.

Sardar’s ill temper was on display during the Q&A session at the LSE. Sardar lacked the kudos and courtesy of an erudite Muslim, frequently raising his voice and taking personal jibes at Ramadan and members of the audience. This spirit of vitriol also litters the pages of his most recent book, Desperately Seeking Paradise. Middle-aged male anger, coupled with an arrogant intellect, were defining ingredients of the destructive Islamism of the last century. If we Muslims are serious about change, then those two traits must perish from our midst.

It was the great Imam Malik (d.795) who said that half of one’s knowledge was the ability to confess la adri, which means, ‘I don’t know’. Imam Malik was indicating to an intellectual state of humility. At the LSE debate there was no inclination of ‘not knowing’, a modern symptom of an intellect that refuses to acknowledge the existence of a realm beyond its comprehension.

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