04-06-2006, 03:30 AM
Fukuyama's take on Islam and Islamists
Hasan Suroor
His prescription: the solution lies not in "fixing" the Muslim world by imposing democracy but in reaching out to alienated Muslims in the West.
CITING A diehard neo-con American academic approvingly in the current debate on Islam might seem like quoting the devil on the scriptures, but that is precisely why what Francis Fukuyama says about the threat from radical Islamists in his new book, After the NeoCons: America at the Crossroads, is significant.
Professor Fukuyama may have fallen out with the Bush administration's version of neo-conservatism but he remains a self-confessed neo-con at heart and therefore his liberal-ish analysis of what is loosely referred to as the threat from "Islam" or Muslim "fundamentalists" is interesting. He questions some key assumptions, which, because they are so widely held and are routinely repeated, are in danger of becoming conventional wisdom.
Quarrelling over labels may sound like quibbling but, as Prof. Fukuyama points out, "terminology is important." The day after the demolition of Babri Masjid I remember arguing with a Delhi-based journalist of a Western news organisation that he was wrong in calling it an act of Hindu "nationalists." For him, it was convenient shorthand to explain a complicated situation to his western readers. Indeed as journalists most of us are guilty of using labels that are, sometimes, misleading even though they serve the immediate purpose of communicating a difficult idea.
The problem arises when it seeps into serious academic and political discourse and is, then, accepted as a fact. If textbooks in India were to start describing the lumpen display of majoritarianism in Ayodhya on December 6, 1992, as an act of Hindu nationalists it would be as misleading as portraying 9/11 as an act of Muslim fundamentalists. The communal frenzy that led to the demolition of the Babri Masjid was certainly whipped up in the name of Hindu nationalism for party-political reasons but I doubt if any self-respecting and true Hindu nationalist would justify it. Similarly, 9/11 and the terrorist attacks in Madrid, Bali, and London may have been carried out in the name of Islam but to suggest that all fundamentalist or "radical" Muslims are a potential source of terror is not only misleading but has the effect of conflating the security threat which, in turn, prompts a disproportionate response as the U.S.-British military adventure in Iraq has shown.
To a degree, even if unwittingly, Muslims themselves have contributed to this perception. The initial Muslim reaction to "Islamist" terrorist acts was too slow and late in coming and by the time they got their act together the damage had already been done. Far more damaging, however, is the idea of a pan-Islamic brotherhood to which many Muslims continue to cling on. During a debate on an Indian television channel, recently, a prominent Muslim "leader" insisted that such "brotherhood" existed and that the world's one billion followers of Islam shared a common bond.
Prof. Fukuyama, on the other hand, rightly argues that there is no such thing as a monolithic global Muslim entity though, like other faith groups, Muslims too are moved by what happens to their co-religionists in other parts of the world. The Muslim community is diverse comprising people of different nationalities and distinct social, cultural, and political background; and their worldview is shaped by the milieu in which they live.
Prof. Fukuyama says that to lump them together and label them as a common source of "Islamist" threat is to miss this diversity. But, more critically, it distorts the "threat assessment" and has serious implications for the strategy to deal with it. Much of the Bush administration's post-9/11 strategy, he believes, has been based on a wrong reading of the threat because it presumed that there was a common "Islamic" or "Muslim" enemy out there.
There are "significant" distinctions between different Muslim groups â and between them and ordinary Muslims. And, the professor says, it is important to remember them in order to get a more realistic sense of the "political dimension of the threat posed by radical Islamists."
"Terminology is important," he writes pointing out that there are broadly three categories of Muslim tendencies: "Islamic fundamentalists, Islamists and radical Islamists." And then there are ordinary Muslims.
"Islamic fundamentalists act out of religious motives and seek to revive an imagined earlier and purer form of religious practice. Islamists, by contrast, tend to emphasize political goals and want to bring religion into politics in some fashion, though not necessarily in ways that are hostile to democracy. The Islamist Justice and Development Party in Turkey, for example, was democratically elected and has supported Turkish entry into the European Union. Radical Islamists, or jihadists, like Osama bin Laden emphasize the need for violence in pursuit of their political goals."
Of these three categories, it is only the jihadists who pose a threat and they represent a "distinct minority of Muslims." The view that the threat is "deeply and broadly rooted among the world's more than one billion Muslims" and that in effect America is facing a "World War IV" (after the two World Wars and the Cold War) is grossly exaggerated, Prof. Fukuyama says.
"We are not fighting the religion Islam or its adherents but a radical ideology that appeals to a distinct minority of Muslims," he says. Questioning the view that this ideology derives entirely from Islam, he points out that in fact it "owes a great deal to Western ideas" appealing to the same sort of people who, in an earlier generation, may have gravitated towards fascism.
Muslim religiosity, he says quoting French Islamic experts Gilles Kepel and Olivier Roy, has little to do with the present-day jihadism. "Islamism and its radical jihadist offshoots are the product of what Roy calls `deterritorialised' Islam in which individual Muslims find themselves cut off from authentic local traditions, often as uprooted minorities in non-Muslim lands. This explains why so many jihadists have not come from the Middle East but have rather been bred [like the September 11 conspirator Mohamed Atta] in Western Europe," he adds.
Prof. Fukuyama cites European scholars to de-emphasise the Islamic roots of the jihadi movement and, instead, underline their Western "origins" pointing out that concepts like revolution, civil society, state, and the "aestheticisation of violence" do not flow from Islam but can be traced to the 20th century radical Western ideological movements.
"It is thus a mistake to identify Islamism as an authentic and somehow inevitable expression of Muslim religiosity, though it certainly has the power to reinforce religious identity and spark religious hatred," he says. Proof: "The most dangerous people are not pious Muslims in the Middle East but alienated and uprooted young people in Hamburg, London, or Amsterdam who ... see ideology [in this case jihadism] as the answer to their personal search for identity."
The issues dealing with "Islamist" extremism form only a small part of Prof. Fukuyama's book, which is essentially a critique of Bush-style neo-conservatism. But what he says should prompt reflection not only among the critics of Islam but also among those Muslim "leaders" who insist on espousing the idea of a grand pan-Islamic narrative ignoring the social and cultural differences (the way they dress, the food they eat, the language they speak) that distinguish Muslims from Muslims.
Just because all Muslims worship the same god and kneel towards the same direction when offering namaaz does not mean that these differences disappear. If there was an all-in-one Muslim brotherhood how does one explain the global shia-sunni divide, which has a history of bloodshed and is currently playing itself out so viciously in Iraq; the genocide of Muslims in a Muslim Sudan; the division of Pakistan between Bengali-speaking and non-Bengali Muslims; and other intra-Muslim conflicts arising out of tribal, linguistic, and political differences?
Pointing out that the Muslim world is "a big, diverse place," Prof. Fukuyama warns: "Simplistic theories that attribute the terrorist problem to religion or culture are not just wrong; they are likely to make the situation worse because they obscure the important fissures that exist within the world of global Islam."
He debunks another piece of prevailing wisdom â namely that Western-style democracy is an answer to the problem of jihadi terrorism. For, as he reminds us, the men behind the terrorist attacks in London and Madrid were born and brought up in modern democratic societies and were not alienated by a lack of democracy. Rather, they were alienated by the very nature of modern and democratic cultures in which they lived. His prescription: the solution lies not in "fixing" the Muslim world by imposing democracy but in reaching out to alienated Muslims in the West â not an easy task for those who prefer quick fixes.
Hasan Suroor
His prescription: the solution lies not in "fixing" the Muslim world by imposing democracy but in reaching out to alienated Muslims in the West.
CITING A diehard neo-con American academic approvingly in the current debate on Islam might seem like quoting the devil on the scriptures, but that is precisely why what Francis Fukuyama says about the threat from radical Islamists in his new book, After the NeoCons: America at the Crossroads, is significant.
Professor Fukuyama may have fallen out with the Bush administration's version of neo-conservatism but he remains a self-confessed neo-con at heart and therefore his liberal-ish analysis of what is loosely referred to as the threat from "Islam" or Muslim "fundamentalists" is interesting. He questions some key assumptions, which, because they are so widely held and are routinely repeated, are in danger of becoming conventional wisdom.
Quarrelling over labels may sound like quibbling but, as Prof. Fukuyama points out, "terminology is important." The day after the demolition of Babri Masjid I remember arguing with a Delhi-based journalist of a Western news organisation that he was wrong in calling it an act of Hindu "nationalists." For him, it was convenient shorthand to explain a complicated situation to his western readers. Indeed as journalists most of us are guilty of using labels that are, sometimes, misleading even though they serve the immediate purpose of communicating a difficult idea.
The problem arises when it seeps into serious academic and political discourse and is, then, accepted as a fact. If textbooks in India were to start describing the lumpen display of majoritarianism in Ayodhya on December 6, 1992, as an act of Hindu nationalists it would be as misleading as portraying 9/11 as an act of Muslim fundamentalists. The communal frenzy that led to the demolition of the Babri Masjid was certainly whipped up in the name of Hindu nationalism for party-political reasons but I doubt if any self-respecting and true Hindu nationalist would justify it. Similarly, 9/11 and the terrorist attacks in Madrid, Bali, and London may have been carried out in the name of Islam but to suggest that all fundamentalist or "radical" Muslims are a potential source of terror is not only misleading but has the effect of conflating the security threat which, in turn, prompts a disproportionate response as the U.S.-British military adventure in Iraq has shown.
To a degree, even if unwittingly, Muslims themselves have contributed to this perception. The initial Muslim reaction to "Islamist" terrorist acts was too slow and late in coming and by the time they got their act together the damage had already been done. Far more damaging, however, is the idea of a pan-Islamic brotherhood to which many Muslims continue to cling on. During a debate on an Indian television channel, recently, a prominent Muslim "leader" insisted that such "brotherhood" existed and that the world's one billion followers of Islam shared a common bond.
Prof. Fukuyama, on the other hand, rightly argues that there is no such thing as a monolithic global Muslim entity though, like other faith groups, Muslims too are moved by what happens to their co-religionists in other parts of the world. The Muslim community is diverse comprising people of different nationalities and distinct social, cultural, and political background; and their worldview is shaped by the milieu in which they live.
Prof. Fukuyama says that to lump them together and label them as a common source of "Islamist" threat is to miss this diversity. But, more critically, it distorts the "threat assessment" and has serious implications for the strategy to deal with it. Much of the Bush administration's post-9/11 strategy, he believes, has been based on a wrong reading of the threat because it presumed that there was a common "Islamic" or "Muslim" enemy out there.
There are "significant" distinctions between different Muslim groups â and between them and ordinary Muslims. And, the professor says, it is important to remember them in order to get a more realistic sense of the "political dimension of the threat posed by radical Islamists."
"Terminology is important," he writes pointing out that there are broadly three categories of Muslim tendencies: "Islamic fundamentalists, Islamists and radical Islamists." And then there are ordinary Muslims.
"Islamic fundamentalists act out of religious motives and seek to revive an imagined earlier and purer form of religious practice. Islamists, by contrast, tend to emphasize political goals and want to bring religion into politics in some fashion, though not necessarily in ways that are hostile to democracy. The Islamist Justice and Development Party in Turkey, for example, was democratically elected and has supported Turkish entry into the European Union. Radical Islamists, or jihadists, like Osama bin Laden emphasize the need for violence in pursuit of their political goals."
Of these three categories, it is only the jihadists who pose a threat and they represent a "distinct minority of Muslims." The view that the threat is "deeply and broadly rooted among the world's more than one billion Muslims" and that in effect America is facing a "World War IV" (after the two World Wars and the Cold War) is grossly exaggerated, Prof. Fukuyama says.
"We are not fighting the religion Islam or its adherents but a radical ideology that appeals to a distinct minority of Muslims," he says. Questioning the view that this ideology derives entirely from Islam, he points out that in fact it "owes a great deal to Western ideas" appealing to the same sort of people who, in an earlier generation, may have gravitated towards fascism.
Muslim religiosity, he says quoting French Islamic experts Gilles Kepel and Olivier Roy, has little to do with the present-day jihadism. "Islamism and its radical jihadist offshoots are the product of what Roy calls `deterritorialised' Islam in which individual Muslims find themselves cut off from authentic local traditions, often as uprooted minorities in non-Muslim lands. This explains why so many jihadists have not come from the Middle East but have rather been bred [like the September 11 conspirator Mohamed Atta] in Western Europe," he adds.
Prof. Fukuyama cites European scholars to de-emphasise the Islamic roots of the jihadi movement and, instead, underline their Western "origins" pointing out that concepts like revolution, civil society, state, and the "aestheticisation of violence" do not flow from Islam but can be traced to the 20th century radical Western ideological movements.
"It is thus a mistake to identify Islamism as an authentic and somehow inevitable expression of Muslim religiosity, though it certainly has the power to reinforce religious identity and spark religious hatred," he says. Proof: "The most dangerous people are not pious Muslims in the Middle East but alienated and uprooted young people in Hamburg, London, or Amsterdam who ... see ideology [in this case jihadism] as the answer to their personal search for identity."
The issues dealing with "Islamist" extremism form only a small part of Prof. Fukuyama's book, which is essentially a critique of Bush-style neo-conservatism. But what he says should prompt reflection not only among the critics of Islam but also among those Muslim "leaders" who insist on espousing the idea of a grand pan-Islamic narrative ignoring the social and cultural differences (the way they dress, the food they eat, the language they speak) that distinguish Muslims from Muslims.
Just because all Muslims worship the same god and kneel towards the same direction when offering namaaz does not mean that these differences disappear. If there was an all-in-one Muslim brotherhood how does one explain the global shia-sunni divide, which has a history of bloodshed and is currently playing itself out so viciously in Iraq; the genocide of Muslims in a Muslim Sudan; the division of Pakistan between Bengali-speaking and non-Bengali Muslims; and other intra-Muslim conflicts arising out of tribal, linguistic, and political differences?
Pointing out that the Muslim world is "a big, diverse place," Prof. Fukuyama warns: "Simplistic theories that attribute the terrorist problem to religion or culture are not just wrong; they are likely to make the situation worse because they obscure the important fissures that exist within the world of global Islam."
He debunks another piece of prevailing wisdom â namely that Western-style democracy is an answer to the problem of jihadi terrorism. For, as he reminds us, the men behind the terrorist attacks in London and Madrid were born and brought up in modern democratic societies and were not alienated by a lack of democracy. Rather, they were alienated by the very nature of modern and democratic cultures in which they lived. His prescription: the solution lies not in "fixing" the Muslim world by imposing democracy but in reaching out to alienated Muslims in the West â not an easy task for those who prefer quick fixes.