Francis Fukuyama, Nadav Samin
Can Any Good Come of Radical Islam
WHAT is going on in the Muslim world? Why does it produce suicide hijackers
on the one hand and, on the other, lethargic and haphazardly capitalist societies
that have delivered neither economic development nor democracy? A good if partial
answer to these questions-partial because it is limited to the Arab region of
that world-can be found in a United Nations "development report" issued
in July. As the UN assessment concludes, the entire Arab sector, with all its
oil wealth, is "richer than it is developed." Its economies are stagnant,
illiteracy is widespread, political freedom is hardly to be found, and its inhabitants,
especially its women, are denied the basic "capabilities" and "opportunities"
of the modern world.
The UN report-written, significantly, by a group of Arab intellectuals-was commissioned
well before last fall's attacks on the U.S. But its pertinence to those attacks
has seemed clear enough to commentators. Thomas Friedman of the New York Times
called it the key to understanding "the milieu that produced bin Ladenism,
and will reproduce it if nothing changes." An editorial in the Wall Street
journal found "little wonder" in the fact that "such an isolated
culture became a breeding ground for the Islamic fundamentalism that spawned
September 11 ."
The Islamism of Osama bin Laden and his followers is indeed inseparable from
the developmental failures of the world's Arab societies. All the same, however,
it would be a mistake to conceive of the Islamist movement as nothing more than
an expression of those failures. The phenomenon of radical Islam is more complicated
than that, and in all sorts of surprising ways its long-term effect on the entire
orbit of Islamic society may turn out to be more complicated still.
L-T SEPTEMBER's attacks against the United States were carried out by a group
of Muslims led by a gaunt, bearded ascetic sitting in a cave in Afghanistan
and spouting unfathomable rhetoric. So all-consuming was the hijackers' hatred
of America that they were willing to blow themselves up for their cause-something
that set them apart from earlier generations of terrorists. Where did this zeal,
so foreign to the modern democratic temperament, come from?
On the part of many observers, the immediate impulse was to attribute it to
deep cultural factors, and in particular to the teachings of fundamentalist
Islam. And of course there was, and is, much to be said for this view. In particular,
the fact that, far from repudiating bin Laden, Muslims and Westerners tended
to line up on opposite sides in their interpretation of the events of September
11 gave
credence to the paradigm of the Harvard political scientist Samuel Huntington,
who predicted a number of years ago that the post-cold-war world would give
rise to a "clash of civilizations."
Still, foolish as it would be to downplay the role of religious or "civilizational"
factors, it will not do simply to call Osama bin Laden an Islamic fundamentalist.
For the Islamism of which he is a symbol and a spokesman is not a movement aimed
at restoring some archaic or pristine form of Islamic practice. As a number
of observers have argued, including most recently the Iranian scholars Ladan
and Roya Boroumand in the Journal of Democracy, it is best understood not as
a traditional movement but as a very modern one.
Groups like al Qaeda, the Boroumands write, owe an explicit debt to 20th-century
European doctrines of the extreme Right and Left. One stream of influence can
be traced to Hassan alBanna, the schoolteacher who founded the Muslim Brotherhood
in Egypt in 1928. From Italy's Fascists, al-Banns borrowed the idea of unquestioning
loyalty to a charismatic leader, modeling the slogan of his paramilitary- organization-"action,
obedience, silence"-on Mussolini's injunction to "believe, obey, fight."
Taking a cue from the Nazis, he placed great emphasis on the Muslim Brotherhood's
youth wing and on the marriage of the physical and the spiritual, of Islam with
activism. Unsurprisingly, al-Banns also taught his followers to expect not encouragement
but repression from traditional Islamic authorities.
A second European source of Islamism can be traced to Maulana Mawdudi, who founded
the Jamaat-e-Islami movement in Pakistan in the early 1940's. A journalist well-versed
in Marxist thought, Mawdudi advocated struggle by an Islamic "revolutionary
vanguard" against both the West and traditional Islam. As the Boroumands
observe, he was perhaps the first to attach "the adjective `Islamic' to
such distinctively Western terms as `revolution,' `state,' and `ideology."'
These strands of the radical Right and Left eventually came together in the
person of Sayyid Qutb, the Egyptian who became the Muslim Brotherhood's chief
ideologist after World War II. In his most important work, Signposts Along the
Road, Qutb called for a monolithic state led by an Islamic party, advocating
the use of every violent means necessary to achieve that end. The society he
envisioned would be classless, one in which the "selfish individual"
of liberal societies would be abolished and the "exploitation of man by
man" would end. This, as the Boroumands point out, was
"Leninism in an Islamist dress," and it is the creed embraced by most
present-day Islamists.
Though developed among Sunnis, this virulent ideological mix reached the Shiite
world as well, most notably through its influence on Ayatollah Khomeini in Iran.
Indeed, the Iranian revolution of 1979 conferred on Islamism a degree of religious
respectability that it had never before possessed. But the fact that the movement
could so easily bridge the bitter Shiite-Sunni divide also suggests just how
sharply divorced it is from Islamic history and custom. As the Boroumands conclude,
the key attributes of Islamism-"the aestheticization of death, the glorification
of armed force, the worship of martyrdom, and `faith in the propaganda of the
deed"'-have little precedent in Islam but have been defining features of
modern totalitarianism. The seeming rigor of Osama bin Laden's theology belies
the reality of his highly heterodox beliefs.
So MUCH for the ideological side of things. On the sociological side, there
is still another close parallel between Islamism and the rise of European fascism.
Though Hitler was a great entrepreneur of ideas, the roots of his movement,
as described in classic analyses like Fritz Stern's The Politics of Cultural
Despair (1974), lay in the rapid industrialization of central Europe. In the
course of a single generation, millions of peasants had moved from tightly-knit
village communities to large, impersonal cities, losing in the process a range
of familiar cultural norms and signposts.
This rapid transition-captured in Ferdinand Tonnies's famous distinction between
Gemeinschaft (community) and Gesellschaft (society) -was perhaps the most powerful
impetus behind modern nationalism. Deprived of local sources of identity, displaced
villagers found new social bonds in language, ethnicity, and-ultimately-in the
mythopoetic propaganda of Europe's extreme Right. Though the various right-wing
parties pretended to revive ancient traditions-pre-Christian Germanic ones in
the case of Nazism, Roman ones in the case of the Italian Fascists-their doctrines
were really a syncretic mishmash, old symbols and new ideas brought together
by the most up-to-date forms of communications technology.
Islamism, as the late Ernest Gellner was among the first to note, has followed
a similar path. Over the last several decades, most Muslim societies have undergone
a social transformation not unlike that of Europe in the late 19th century.
Large numbers of villagers and tribesmen have moved to the vast urban slums
of Cairo, Algiers, and Amman, leaving behind the variegated, often preliterate
Islam of the countryside. Islamism has filled the void, offering a new identity
based on a puritanical, homogenized creed. Syncretist in the manner of fascism,
it unites traditional religious symbols and rhetoric with the ideology of revolutionary
action.
Some observers, especially after September 11, have suggested that the real
engine of Islamism's growth is poverty, but this is not the case. According
to the recent UN report, for example, the Arab world actually compares favorably
to other developing regions when it comes to preventing abject want. Rather,
like European fascism before it, Islamism is bred by rapid social dislocation.
More often than not, its leaders and propagandists are newcomers to the middle
or upper classes. Islamism introduces these educated but often lonely and alienated
individuals to a larger umma (community) of believers, from Tangier to Jakarta
to London. Through the magic of the cassette tape recorder (in Khomeini's case)
or video (for bin Laden), they become members of a vibrant, if dangerous and
destructive, international community.
SEEING ISLAMISM for what it really is goes beyond correct taxonomy. It also
points us in the direction of an important, if seemingly perverse, question:
could it, like both fascism and Communism before it, serve inadvertently as
a modernizing force, preparing the way for Muslim societies that can respond
not destructively but constructively to the challenge of the West?
The question is not as absurd as it may sound. Comparisons are especially tricky
here, but the Bolsheviks succeeded in creating an industrialized, urbanized
Russia, and Hitler managed to get rid of the Junkers and much of the class stratification
that had characterized prewar Germany. Through a tortuous and immensely costly
path, both of these "isms" cleared away some of the premodern underbrush
that had obstructed the growth of liberal democracy. There are, of course, much
safer and more peaceful routes toward modernization, like those taken by countries
like Korea or Britain or the United States, and less expensive paths to modernity
were surely available to Russia and Germany. But one has to deal with what one
has, and in Islamic cultures, in any case, there is arguably much more underbrush
to be cleared away. If Islamism is directed as much against traditional forms
of Islam as against the West, could it, too, be a source of such creative destruction?
There are myriad ways in which not only Islamic practice but the rigid legal
framework within which it is encased has obstructed change. The economic historian
Timur Kuran has documented in painstaking detail a series of traditional Islamic
institutions whose inflexibility and legalism have served as immense barriers
to development. Interest rates are fixed by religious authorities, schooling
focuses on rote learning of religious texts and discourages critical thinking,
women are kept out of political and economic life, and so on. Even an institution
like the wagf, or traditional Islamic charity, which could serve as a bulwark
of civil society in a reformed Islamic order, fixes the bequests of wealthy
individuals in perpetuity, with no opportunity for adaptation to changing circumstances.
Many of these same constraints existed historically in the Judeo-Christian West,
and were eliminated or ameliorated only after long struggle. All of them continue
to exist in the Islamic present, and can only be removed through the exercise
of political power. Islamism has already demonstrated the capability of doing
this, and even of accommodating Western norms when it has to: though Khomeini
brought back the chador, or veil, for women, he also reluctantly sanctioned
women's right to vote in Iranian elections, a practice (won under the Shah)
that he had once likened to prostitution.
In Egypt, the Muslim Brotherhood as well as other, even more radical Islamist
organizations have created a layer of voluntary associations standing between
the family and the state. It was, for example, Islamist charities that stepped
into the breach at the time of the 1992 Cairo earthquake, providing important
social services unavailable from the inept and corrupt Egyptian state. The Islamists
clearly hope to reunite religion and political power one day, which would be
a disaster. But they are learning-and inculcating-habits of association and
independent action that, if somehow divorced from their radical ideology, might
yet help lay the groundwork of a true civil society.
HERE is another area in which the reactionary J ideas of the Islamists may play
a potentially progressive role, and this has to do with the funda mental sources
of authority and legitimacy in the Islamic world.
The traditional system of Islamic jurisprudencewith its rigid rules and hierarchies-has
been under attack, in one way or another, since at least the 19th century. The
most important early figures in this effort were modernizers, like the Iranian
Jamal aldin al-Afghani (1839-1897) and his student, the
Egyptian reformer Muhhaammad Abduh (18491905). Abduh was among the tirsf to
depart from the rigidly textual form of interpretation that had characterized
the Sunni world since the earliest caliphates. In his view, human reason was
the only appropriate tool for applying the fundamental [truths of the Qur'an
and the Sunna (the traditions of the Prophet). Appointed mufti of Egypt toward
the end of his life, Abduh issued rulings reflecting, in the words of one scholar,
his desire "to render the religion of Islam entirely adaptable to the requirements
of modern civilization."
The implications of this turn were profound. Though the institutional base of
orthodox Sunni Islam remained intact, the long-sealed gates of doctrinal explication
were unhinged. Like a Muslim Luther, Abduh shook up the clerical establishment
by reviving, under the influence of his mentor alAfghani, the possibility of
independent legal interpretation. His example gave unprecedented latitude to
all subsequent construers of Islamic tradition, 7 whether saints or demagogues-the
latter including anti-Western radicals like the Muslim Brotherhood's Sayyid
Qutb and, eventually, Osama bin Laden.
In the battle for interpretative power, it is no coincidence that the primary
breeding ground for Islamism has been the brittle oligarchies of Saudi Arabia
and Egypt. Both regimes have co-opted the traditional clergy, forcing the populist
current of Islam into back alleys and store-front mosques and turning it into
an ideological guerrilla movement. Detached from the moorings of tradition,
the Islamists have proved adept at manipulating the symbols of faith and appropriating
them for their own revolutionary purposes.
Osama bin Laden's famous 1998 fatwa, in which he declared jihad on the United
States and any American fair game for his followers, is a case in point. Though
the content of this declaration is itself contrary to traditional Islamic moral
teachings-as the eminent Middle East scholar Bernard Lewis has observed, "At
no point do the basic texts of Islam enjoin terrorism and murder"-the most
notably radical thing about it is the identity of its author. Osama bin Laden
has no credentials as a religious authority and no right, under traditional
Islamic practice, to issue a fatwa. It is a bit like Hitler issuing a papal
encyclical, or Lenin a decree in the name of the Russian Orthodox church. The
mere fact that bin Laden was willing to cross this line shows the extent to
which Islamism has undermined traditional Islamic legal authority. But a line
crossed in the name of waging allout war against the West may yet be crossed
in the name of healthier purposes.
W E SHOULD not kid ourselves. The modernization of Islam is hardly imminent,
and it will not occur without enormous struggle. There are several deeply imbedded
obstacles in Islamic society, not least the often-noted lack of a tradition
of secular politics. To many Muslims, what may simply seem more "natural"
is a totalizing ideology that seeks to unite society and the state within a
single revolutionary whole. Nor is it clear, despite the UN's recent report,
that the Muslim world is capable of the realistic self-appraisal necessary for
a modernizing shift to occur.
Many non-Western societies, after all, have tried the path of violent resistance
to the enormous military, economic, and cultural power of the West. It was only
when faced with defeat and domination that nations like China and Japan undertook
a serious study of what, in Lewis's phrase, "went wrong." Joining
the West when they could not beat it, they adopted a variety of Western institutions
while retaining a core of their own culture. This process of social learning
has been much slower in Muslim societies; for Arabs in particular, it has been
all too convenient to blame Israel and the United States for their own lack
of progress.
If the wait for Muslim modernization is likely to be a long one, how, then,
should the West respond in the short term as it faces the continued prospect
of terrorism, suicide bombings, and weapons of mass destruction? The determined
application of military power is certainly part of the answer. European fascism
did not fall because of the inherent wickedness of its animating ideas; having
brought havoc to the societies that embraced its doctrines, it lost legitimacy
because it was crushed on the battlefield. Just as Osama bin Laden and his cause
gained status and support with the successful attacks of September 11, so the
rout of al Qaeda from Afghanistan and continuing U.S. operations against radical
Islamic terrorism are absolutely key to dampening Islamist fervor.
But the more important struggle must take place within the Islamic world itself.
For too long, genuine Muslim modernizers have sat in the wings while traditionalists
and Islamists battled one another on center stage. The great need now is for
Western-oriented Muslims to take advantage of the turmoil created by September
11 to promote a more genuinely liberal form of their religion.
There is reason to think that such an opening exists. Though many Muslims continue
to favor Islamism in the abstract, the movement has left a disastrous record
everywhere it has come to power. Saudi Arabia, home of the extremist Wahhabi
strain of fundamentalist Islam, is one of the most corrupt and mismanaged regimes
in the contemporary world. Even with the country's vast oil wealth, per-capita
income fell in real terms from $11,500 in 1980 to $6,700 in 1999. As for Afghanistan
under the Taliban, ordinary Afghans were overjoyed to be liberated from their
yoke, and eagerly returned to such simple modern pleasures as watching cheesy
Indian movies on their longburied VCR's.
It is the Iranians, who, having lived under Islamist rule for the past generation,
are most likely to lead the Islamic world out of its current impasse. Though
Western hopes for the seemingly reform minded President Khatami have proved
misplaced, there is one basic demographic fact working in favor of eventual
liberalization: 70 percent of Iran's
population is now under the age of 30, and from all reports these young people
tend to abhor the Islamic theocracy. Having brought the first Islamist regime
to power, Iran would set a powerful example for the rest of the Middle East-and
beyond-if it were to move toward liberalization on its own steam.
In the end, it is as important not to overestimate the strength of Islamism
as it is fatal to underestimate it. It has little to offer Arabs, much less
the rest of the Muslim world. Its glorification of violence has already produced
a sharp counterreaction, and-provided it is defeated-its "successes"
may yet help pave the way for long-overdue reform. If so, this would certainly
not be the first time that the cunning of history has produced so astounding
a result.