In a recent post, Jake brought our attention to an intriguing article on the politics of Islam, penned by Marc Lynch in Foreign Affairs. Lynch, who is responding to the neo-conservative author Paul Berman, accuses the latter of offering an overly simplistic rendering of the debate over modern Islam and its relationship to the Western tradition. Instead of imagining a continuous Islamist spectrum ranging from shifty but presentable Muslim intellectuals to preachers of hate and terrorists, Lynch argues that we should see the tussle that exists within the Islamic world as one between moderate and radical forces.
Lynch’s take is interesting and provides us with a fertile framework of analysis, but I’d like to indicate a few problems it raises. At the centre of his argument lies a great dilemma for liberalism. On the one hand, it seems to be in the interest of Western liberals to support moderate forces within Islam and side with intellectuals such as Tariq Ramadan in order to defeat the more regressive and violent strands, both on grounds of greater ideological affinity and strategic interest.
Yet, on the other hand, the “moderates” in question reject liberal values and promote views that are hostile - albeit less violently hostile than those of their Salafist opponents - to the West, such that reinforcing them is to work against the long-term interests of Western nations, not only in terms of foreign policy but also in terms of the relationship between Muslims living in the West and mainstream society.
Peppering his gloomy picture with shades of optimism, Lynch goes on to envisage a number of possible ways out of this dilemma. The most notable of them is his hypothesis that with time the moderate branches of modern Islam will grow ever more progressive and sympathetic to liberal values, but he provides little empirical evidence to suggest that such trends are likely, or even possible.
What seems to me remarkable about the current Islamic horizon is that while the moderates stand accused of rejecting liberalism, they also undeniably share a passionate commitment to democracy and active citizen involvement in politics, even within Western states - this latter doctrinal feature is in fact one of the key aspects that distinguishes them from the Salafists. The question then becomes how far one can pledge allegiance to a democratic political system while rejecting crucial tenets of liberalism, the school of thought that many believe to be inseparable from the ideal of democracy.
How do we even define these terms of “liberalism” and “democracy”? Lynch fails to address the definitional issues and as a result his efforts to understand the tension at play slide into ambiguity. But perhaps what is truly interesting about this question is that it holds the promise of illuminating our understanding of these concepts - and perhaps reinventing them.
Tariq Ramadan’s qualms with liberals stems from his belief that the relationship they propose to establish between Muslims and the state is one of tacit subservience, where a “good” Muslim is one who is prepared to make concessions to adapt to a modern Western society. In other words, citizenship is achieved by negating parts of one’s religious identity. But can an alternative model in which individuals separately strive for national and religious identities prove workable? And if so, can these identities fit together?
