Debating Muslim Futures — Between Pragmatists and Principlists
By Rashid Dar
To say that recent events have given the American Muslim community pause would be an understatement.
Muhammad Ali’s death brought sadness, pride, and reflection — all at the same time. Orlando forced a conversation within the community as to how we articulate and live out our stance towards same-sex relations. On the electoral front, we split over supporting the “establishment” candidate, the “renegade” socialist, or whether change should even be expected through electoral politics in the first place. We perennially debate if and why we should (or should not) attend government-sponsored Eid receptions, whether BDS is good political strategy, and more. All this, and I have yet to even mention ISIS and the havoc it has wrought across the ummah, especially during this past Ramadan. We lurch from crisis to crisis, battered. Usually we are still trying to process the last shock before the next blow comes our way.
Intra-Muslim debates in America, regardless of the topic, can be characterized as rich and lively, yet jumbled and lacking any coherent vision — in many ways, a mirror of our community at large. Many of these issues serve as good case studies for revealing the ways in which the choices we make today will help shape the future of Islam and Muslims tomorrow.
The experience of other faith communities may serve as a useful backgrounder. What comes through is that American religion is in a dire straits. Take, for instance, a 2013 Pew poll which found that “American Jews overwhelmingly say they are proud to be Jewish and have a strong sense of belonging to the Jewish people” — yet actual observance of Judaism is essentially in freefall, with many Jewish leaders understandably concerned. Christians and Christianity appears to be faring no better. The title of Robert George’s recent and rigorous study, The End of White Christian America, speaks for itself.
“Who are Muslims without Islam? And what is Islam without Muslims?”
What, then, about Islam and Muslims in America? Can we avoid the same fate? And if so, how? Here, I note that Muslims do not have the luxury — as Jews do — to fall back on a “tribal” identity. For our community, a future lacking in religious commitment is less logically coherent than in the Jewish case, where even those Jews who make the choice to abandon religion or God all together, are still part of Bani Isra’il, and do not cease to be considered Jewish. Were Muslims to abandon Islam, however, we would be able only to pin our hopes for the strength of the community on rather lukewarm notions of “shared heritage.” And if the sufoof* at jumu’ah come to suffer in the way Christianity’s pews have, our already small community would effectively cease to exist. Put otherwise, who are Muslims without Islam? And what is Islam without Muslims?
I want to use this piece to broach a long-overdue conversation and extend a sort of open invitation to critically examine the various approaches being put forward as positively furthering the interests of the Muslim community in this country. Asking questions when needed, this conversation attempts to envision possible outcomes. As a community, it is high time we started #DebatingMuslimFutures.
Muslim futures are not mutually exclusive. It is very possible to think of others or to disagree about their results, and I look forward to others’ thoughts. Below, I try and sketch out two often mutually-opposing approaches to start things off.
Pragmatic survivalism
This seems to aptly describe the position of a sizable portion, if not the majority, of American Muslim leadership at the current moment. See, for instance, the popular joint statement given in response to the recent attack in Orlando, and the resulting internal reflection over LGBT+ issues. Dr. Jonathan Brown recently gave a carefully laid out justification that attempts to maintain traditional sensibilities. The article is worth reading in its entirety, but, for the purposes of this piece, the line of reasoning advanced by Dr. Brown is that, due to “the diversity of belief systems and worldviews held by Americans, it is totally unrealistic to propose eliminating all their aspects of disapproval or condemnation. It is much more feasible to emphasize that moral disapproval or religious condemnation cannot be allowed to violate the rule of law that safeguards us all.” In essence, this is a logic founded on the guiding principle of self preservation. Such a stance, he stresses, does not mean Muslims must give active moral sanction to any and all. Muslims, like any other group with different beliefs, simply desire the right to hold to those beliefs, without having to deal with incessant interrogation by society.
As mentioned, this approach has more or less been the norm for quite some time. In 2012, Keith Ellison, a proudly Muslim member of Congress, gave an interview in which he exemplified Muslim advocacy for the equal rights of all explicitly based on the principle of self-preservation amid rampant anti-Muslim sentiment:
…When I talk about Islamophobia to members of Congress, and I talk to Barney Frank and Tammy Baldwin — openly gay members of Congress — and I say, “Hey, Islamophobia is bad, can you guys stand with me, they say, ‘Where do I sign?’” So, what do I say when they come to me and say, “Homophobia is killing us — literally — can we do something about it, will you stand with us? And I say, well, I can only stand with you. I have no other choice if I’m going to be anything approaching consistent.
Communal self-preservation naturally binds the Muslim electorate in America to whatever group does not threaten it. Ever since 9/11, the GOP’s policies of warmongering, racism, Islamophobia, and more have made the Democratic Party the only viable alternative in the minds of most Muslims, even if their social conservatism might track closer with traditional, family-oriented values held by many on the right. Indeed, ever since 9/11, there has been a cementing of the liberal Democrat-Muslim alliance. And when seen in the context of the bewildering rise of Trump — done almost entirely on the back of anti-Muslim rhetoric — why would this not be the case? Given this, the implications of this alliance on the Muslim community deserves a more critical look. In exchange for the continued survival of our community, what might we be giving up?
For one, the risks of the liberal-Muslim alliance could initiate an increasingly pronounced rupture between what we politically advocate for in society and what we morally hold to as a community. Based on self-preservation, Muslim political engagement would become more and more pragmatic, while long-held Islamic moral stances (like the orthodox view on homosexuality, to take just one example) would slowly become the purview of Muslim community life, resulting in a level of cognitive dissonance. In essence, we would be conceding that these religio-moral positions are of no value to society at large — a sort of profound cynicism that sees Islam as having nothing to offer those who are not Muslim. Salman Sayyid, taking a negative view, has commented on this very phenomenon, writing that
…it is not possible to legislate against cynicism; if Muslims become cynical and opportunist towards their faith, it will not be because of post-modernism. Cynicism is a product of political disempowerment; it arises when one cannot imagine a future that is better for all, so one tries to work only for oneself and one’s families. This retreat from public participation in society to private concerns is what breeds cynicism. Social problems are depoliticised and presented as ethical challenges. The search for “a good society” is sacrificed for the cultivation of “good Muslims” who can do without society. (emphasis mine)
In order to make this rupture sustainable, Muslim religious institutions — from the family, to masjids, madrasas, and Islamic learning platforms — would focus on crafting “good Muslims”, who, out of a concern for salvaging something of Islam’s vision in the modern world, sacrifice principled political engagement in order to save Muslims’ private ethical lives. This is essentially the position of many Muslim religious scholars in the “traditionalist” camp, who insist on political quietism and exhorting fellow Muslims to personal piety. With pragmatism governing our politics, and assuming the liberal-Muslim alliance holds, Muslim politics would almost certainly come to mirror those of the Democratic Party — many argue they essentially do already. This is not to make a value judgment on whether this is good or bad, but only to make a descriptive observation.
The fear here is that, over time, the pragmatics of this approach will place increasing pressure Islam to conform to liberal conceptions of morality, religion, economics, and more. The dissonance between publicly-held political stances and privately-held moral positions may come to be too hard to reconcile for many, creating a sense of estrangement from political life or community life, depending on which one feels closer to. Taken to its extreme, this may lead to a widespread emergence of large “Reformist Islam” congregations who seek to bring their socially-held liberal values in line with those privately-held. Conversely, they may also induce the emergence of more “apolitical” congregations that disavow any sort of involvement in politics whatsoever, or, at the very least, avoids “controversial” topics that have political dimensions.
It’s noteworthy that so much of how you think about this trend depends on what you think Muslims are capable of achieving in the future. Here, a hypothetical is illustrative. What if, one day, a great wali landed in the States, and successfully converted a substantial majority of the population (or, otherwise warmed their hearts to Muslims, as Muhammad Ali did)? Would Muslims then continue to advocate for the rights of others out of principle were we to find ourselves in a position of political advantage in terms of numbers and influence? What would happen if we were to reach a stage where the self-preservation of the community were not to be a concern any longer?
Principlism
Under this approach, Muslims, in a rejection of pragmatism, would instead develop a political platform that insists Islam has something to say about how society at large can be made better. Such a view does not see Islam as something just for Muslims. It is not as concerned about the short-term benefits pragmatism can bring, being much more concerned about principle. In Dr. Jackson’s view, it is precisely this to which Muslims are called to if we are to be true to the legacies of Malcolm X and Muhammad Ali. Only by becoming known once again (as these great figures were) for standing for principle, Jackson argues, no matter how ridiculed or unpopular, will Muslims garner enough trust and credibility to affect wider societal change.
Muhammad Ali’s death brought sadness, pride, and reflection — all at the same time.
At present, this current is informal and unorganized within the community, and is more accurately described as a “principlist bloc.” Fans of this approach demand moral consistency from American Muslim leadership, above all else. Emphasizing social justice, they are the sort who reject engaging with figures or institutions deemed unjust — especially the state, which is seen by its very nature to be corrupt and corrupting. Many who identify with this approach would feel spiritually sickened if forced to choose between the lesser of two evils (or why someone would ever want a selfie with the President, even if at an Eid reception).
Though a small (yet vocal) bloc of voices today, it may further consolidate under a number of possible forms. It could, for example, emphasize its status as a “callout lobby”, and continue to hold American Muslim leadership to account for perceived breaches of principle through public shaming, private nasihah, or otherwise. If motivated enough, it could also engage in an intensive street da’wah campaign to gain followers and sympathizers, and build a professional Islamist-type movement based on a shared set of principles (like the Muslim Brotherhood). If this latter approach is successful, it may even muster the wherewithal to formally register an American Muslim Party, begin the work of constructing a party platform, electing leadership, and so on..
This is all, of course, being optimistic. The already small Muslim population (comprising about 1% of the total population in the U.S.) is relatively dispersed across the United States’ vast landmass. This is unlike, say, the United Kingdom, where Muslims comprise about 5% of a much smaller overall population in a geographical area approximately the size of the state of Oregon. It is at least equally likely, if not more, that any attempt at building a “Muslim Party” structure will be of limited success. Moreover, electoral politics are filled with the kind of compromise that make principlists cringe.
One other possible scenario is the bloc’s resignation from formal politics altogether, deciding that elected office or public service — having been dead ends so far — are not the only ways to further Muslim interests. Here, principlists may find resonance with the emergent strand of reform conservatism, with its communitarian focus on what Yunal Levin calls a “politics of subsidiarity.” In this view, those “mediating institutions” — such as the family, mosques, Muslim communities, lobbies, other civic organizations — which lie between the individual and the state are seen as crucial for keeping both the human ego and Leviathan in check. This view localizes what are usually seen to be big problems to be solved by technocrats in a far-flung capital, placing onus and responsibility on mediating institutions, rather than government, to decrease their reliance on a bloated and ineffective state apparatus. In such a configuration, Muslim community organizers, imams, social justice activists, counselors, financiers, and others would work to revitalize the collective spirit of civil society, which suffers under a trenchant and lonely individualism. They will have their work cut out for them.
However, if principlists fail to affect change, they may throw up their hands and withdraw into an insular, Amish-type community, hoping to avoid having to live a life of sin and unacceptable moral compromise amongst broader society. In the most tragic cases, individuals may make hijra from America to places they deem to be more welcoming enclaves for Muslims.
What I’ve tried to sketch out above are just the first few threads in what I hope will be a vibrant tapestry of discussion. I encourage more of you to contribute your visions to #DebatingMuslimFutures in the months ahead. As Allah سبحانه و تعالى says, “Those who strive for Our sake, We shall guide them to our pathways. Indeed, Allah is with those who spread good.” That He used the plural — pathways — is not a coincidence. Sections of our community will feel that different paths work for them, but as long as we remain truly sincere in our intention, desiring the good, God is the guarantor of the final result and reward. And may He send perfect blessings and peace upon our Master and God’s Final Emissary, Muhammad.
*sufoof, meaning prayer (salat) lines in Arabic.
*wali, meaning saintly figure in Arabic.
Debating Muslim Futures — Between Pragmatists and Principlists was originally published in Convivencia Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
Read the responses to this story on Medium.
