Ruminations on Allegience: Muslims and Non-Muslim Politics
In Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer (2023), there’s a profoundly evocative scene where Albert Einstein articulates to J. Robert Oppenheimer:
“… I left my country, never to return. The German calamity of years ago repeats itself—people acquiesce without resistance and align themselves with the forces of evil. You’ve served America well, and if this is the reward she has to offer, perhaps you should turn your back on her.”
Oppenheimer, with palpable conviction, retorts, “Dammit, I happen to love this country.”
This cinematic moment resonated deeply within me, rekindling an enduring quandary: Can a Muslim genuinely love his country? By love, I do not imply a superficial display of nationalistic fervor or mere participation in cultural festivities but rather a profound, unwavering commitment to the advancement and betterment of the nation. Genuine love signifies a sincere aspiration to elevate the welfare of all citizens, underpinned by an intrinsic sense of belonging. However, the resolution of this inquiry is far from straightforward; it is multifaceted and intricately layered.
Recent events suggest that many Muslims might perceive Australia as bestowing ‘rewards’ of the most pernicious kind: draconian anti-terror legislation, a hostile media milieu, political duplicity, and the proliferation of defamatory social media narratives.
Within the SUMSA brothers’ WhatsApp enclave, amidst the convivial banter and solicitations for charitable endeavors (which we sincerely appreciate), a brother shared an article about an Islamic articulation of a social contract. This discovery, made during his undergraduate research, catalyzed a vibrant discussion.
What, then, is the nexus between the aforementioned Oppenheimer scene and this social contract? Einstein acknowledged that Oppenheimer had served America admirably. Despite the adversity he faced, Oppenheimer harbored an unwavering love for America. This scenario invites an exploration of the social contract.
However, before delving into this discourse, two disclaimers are requisite:
Any discussion will inevitably simplify the nuances of liberalism.
I do not purport to be an Islamic scholar.
Australia epitomizes a liberal nation, and as posited by Fukuyama in The End of History and the Last Man, liberalism remains the prevailing orthodoxy in the Western hemisphere. For the purposes of this blog, liberalism denotes the political ideology predicated on individual liberty, egalitarianism, and democratic governance—principles rooted in the Enlightenment epoch. Consider the intellectual legacies of John Locke, John Stuart Mill, and for the contemporary, John Rawls with his seminal work A Theory of Justice. Liberalism encompasses individual rights, democracy, the rule of law, free markets, welfare, and pluralism. These concepts, albeit occasionally contested, form the bedrock of liberal thought.
Liberalism places a premium on secularism—the demarcation between religion and state—a notion traditionally at odds with Islamic precepts.
States can be dichotomized into dar al-kufr (abode of disbelief) or dar al-Islam (abode of Islam). As March (2007), citing Abou El Fadl (1994), elucidates, certain Islamic traditions proscribe residence in dar al-harb as impermissible for Muslims due to:
The imperative that Muslims should not be subjected to non-Muslim legal systems.
The principle that Islam and Muslims should not be relegated to positions of subservience.
The prohibition against increasing the power of non-Muslims.
The obligation to eschew environments rife with moral turpitude.
The propensity for non-Muslim environments to erode religious adherence in successive generations.
These tenets underscore the complexity inherent in nurturing an allegiance to a non-Muslim polity such as Australia. If these tenets are construed as inviolable, then a Muslim’s capacity to love his country becomes untenable.
Nonetheless, March propounds a sophisticated argument that Muslims can indeed affirm loyalty and even affection towards a non-Muslim nation within the framework of a social contract. This thesis is deeply entrenched in classical and contemporary Islamic legal and ethical traditions, emphasizing the inviolability of contractual obligations. Yet, a critical examination of March’s proposition necessitates an exploration of interpretative latitude and potential constraints within these traditions.
March compellingly asserts that classical Islamic jurisprudence upholds principles that sanction Muslim residence under non-Muslim governance, provided that security and religious freedom are assured. Scholars like al-Nawawi and Ibn Qudama have historically endorsed this view, repudiating interpretations that categorically prohibit Muslim domicile in non-Muslim lands. This perspective is pivotal for facilitating Muslim integration into liberal democracies, advocating for a harmonious coexistence predicated on mutual respect and legal compliance.
Moreover, March accentuates the ethical imperative in Islam to honor contracts, as underscored by various Qur’anic verses and hadiths. Verses such as Surah an-Nahl: 91, which enjoin, “Fulfill God’s covenant when you have entered into it, and break not your oaths after asserting them, for you thereby make God your guarantor,” exemplify the sanctity of promises and agreements. This principle extends to Muslims residing in non-Muslim countries, obligating them to uphold local laws and contribute constructively to their host society.
Tariq Ramadan, cited by March, demonstrates this point clearly. On contracts, Tariq Ramadan (1999) states:
“[C]ontracts determine our status, fix our duties and rights and direct the nature and scope of our actions. Once agreed, the terms of a covenant should be respected and if there is a point which seems to work against Muslim rights—or even their conscience as Believers—this has to be discussed and negotiated because Muslims are, unilaterally, not allowed to breach a treaty.”
Ramadan then explains:
“[M]illions of Muslims have tacitly or explicitly [recognized] the binding character of the constitution or the laws of the country they enter into and then live in. By signing a work contract or asking for a visa, they acknowledge the validity and authority of the constitution, the laws and the state.”
However, the pragmatic application of these principles elicits critical inquiries. Interpretations of what constitutes sufficient religious freedom and security can vary markedly among scholars and practitioners. March’s reliance on the principle of contract fulfillment may be contested by more conservative interpretations, particularly in contexts where Muslims perceive systemic discrimination or a lack of genuine religious autonomy.
March also engages with Rawlsian concepts of overlapping consensus, positing that disparate comprehensive doctrines, including Islam, can converge on shared political values underpinning a liberal democracy. This theoretical construct is robust, positing that the intrinsic values of liberty, equality, and security espoused by a liberal democratic state are congruent with Islamic principles of justice and welfare. Yet, this alignment is not universally acknowledged within the Muslim world, with substantial discourse asserting the inherent incompatibility of liberal democratic values with certain Islamic tenets.
Critically, March’s thesis might be perceived as unduly optimistic, presupposing a degree of interpretative flexibility and progressive thought among Muslim scholars and communities that is not ubiquitously present. The potential for an overlapping consensus is heavily contingent upon contextual factors and the willingness of both Muslim and non-Muslim societies to engage in authentic dialogue and accommodation. In regions where political or social conditions exacerbate religious tensions, the theoretical foundations espoused by March may encounter significant impediments.
In conclusion, March’s argument that Muslims can love and show loyalty to a non-Muslim country within the framework of a social contract is both compelling and deeply rooted in Islamic jurisprudence and ethical principles. Yet, the pragmatic realization of this thesis necessitates a rigorous examination of diverse interpretations and real-world applications. The success of this integration hinges on a mutual commitment to justice, security, and religious freedom from both Muslim communities and their non-Muslim counterparts. While theoretically sound, the practical endorsement of liberal democratic values by Muslims in non-Muslim countries remains contingent on broader socio-political dynamics and interpretative openness.
Thus, we are beckoned to confront these complexities with intellectual rigor and a spirit of inquiry. As Muslims and seekers of knowledge, we must immerse ourselves in the profound questions that define our shared existence. What better place to do so than a university such as ours?
