By Harold A. Gould
In this era where doctrinal extremism, religious fanaticism and untrammeled violence so pervade the political environment throughout the Muslim world, one is struck by the paucity of prominent voices that have arisen to appeal for moderation, compromise, secularism, and especially Gandhian modes of non-violent action as alternative means of addressing and resolving lethal confrontations between rival groups.
It is not that there have never been occasions and contexts where voices of mutual reconciliation, compassion, even purposive non-violence have struggled to be heard, or when aspects of the Islamic tradition have at times spawned forms of transcendental love and reconciliation in preference to violent political confrontation.
In contemporary times the most noteworthy manifestation of the latter is, of course, Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan, the ‘Pathan Gandhi’, who sought to reconcile the Islamic and Hindu-Buddhist traditions through his identification with Mahatma Gandhi and democratic ideals. The sad outcome of this endeavor was its eventual nullification by the political choices made by the ultimately victorious ‘Jinnah factor’ and the Muslim League, their allies among the feudal landlord classes, and the rising influence of the Punjabi Military. “Abdul Ghaffar Khan got sidelined because Jinnah captured the fancy of the Muslims in relation to the conflict with Congress and the Hindus,” says Ishtiaq Ahmed.
Under these circumstances Partition laid the sociological foundations for an increasingly doctrinally uniform Islamic state that would eschew its original commitment to the South Asian secular, pluralistic model adopted by India. And with this fateful choice went all chances for achieving a melding of the Gandhian spirit with Ghaffar Khan’s moral vision.
In other respects as well the chances for serious non-violent alternatives to political conflict have failed to materialize and this too has had a decisive impact on both the Middle East and South Asia. Conceptually speaking, Sufism always seemed to be a promising potential for spawning non-violent collective action. Yet historically speaking it really never did. “One can argue,” Ishtiaq Ahmed laments, that “in the Islamic ethos peaceful resistance to oppression is a rather weak tradition or tendency…”
T. N. Madan implicitly agrees: “The problem with Islam is that the foundational text, the Quran, like other scriptures, lacks internal consistency. Islam does indeed mean peace and the mutual Muslim greeting signals peace between people, between Muslims. But the Quran also makes jihad against infidels, particularly idolaters, an obligation. There is some room for pluralism in the Quran, but not for religious tolerance.”
Traditions like Sufism with its mystical, introspective tendencies which might have yielded, indeed in some quarters struggled to achieve, common ground with Bhakti , especially in Sindh, once Islam found its way into India from the Ninth century onward, certainly did display tendencies toward achieving spiritual convergence with divine being itself which is the raw material for the kind of introspection and compassion that can inspire nonviolent action. The saga of the Pirs with their grassroots immersion in devotional mysticism are classical manifestations of these tendencies.
“Sufis,” says Madan, “have tried to valorize the compassionate and loving aspect. A Gandhi could have come from among the Sufis or, perhaps, the more lenient Shiahs, but then the most influential Shiah cleric of our time, Ayatollah Khomeini, sunnified the Shiah faith and fundamentalist Muslims have always considered both Sufis and Shiahs the arch enemies of Islam.”
The ugly truth of this state of affairs is especially poignant even as we speak, however, as we behold throughout the Middle East the murderous impulses being acted out there, both individually and collectively, that are tearing at the fabric of contemporary civil society.
Thus we must ask if there is the remotest chance that some form of alternative to the mindless violence that pervades the Trans-Tigris-Euphrates milieu and threatens to spread far beyond it can arise?
Perhaps after all there is .
Their names are Malala Yusufzai and Kailash Satyarthi.
They are the two South Asians who were just awarded the Nobel Prize for their contributions to elevating the human spirit among the young. Everyone is struck, of course, by the brilliance of the Nobel Committee for selecting an awardee from each of the two South Asian states who have been engaged in a bitter struggle against one another for more than half a century; states that chose very different pathways leading to the 21st Century – one going the way of Islamic doctrinal purity, the other going the way of Hindu-Buddhist doctrinal flexibility and cultural pluralism.
In Pakistan, Malala survived a gunshot wound to her brain by a brainwashed Taliban ideologue for the ‘crime’ of championing the right of women to attend school, acquire the same education as their male counterparts, and take their place as socially equal members of modern society. Compelled to flee to England to protect herself from further attempted murder and the indifference of her own government, Malala has taken her place as a symbol and pioneer not only of Pakistani women’s basic rights but for women everywhere. Her reward has been the Nobel Prize and a commanding international stature.
In India, Kailash Satyarthi has struggled for more than a quarter of a century through his organization, Bachpan Bachao Andolan, to, in Uday Bhaskar’s words, “free thousands of hapless children from various forms of servitude and helped in their successful re-integration, rehabilitation and education.” Like Malala, Mr. Satyamurthi has in his distinctive way done for young people what the Mahatma, Ghaffar Khan, Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Cesar Chavez and others have done for their ‘constituencies’ – viz., confronted organized violence, cruelty and injustice with personal courage and organized, institutionalized opposition to the evils of child-exploitation.
It is this kind of dedication that is absent from the Middle East, in the Trans-Tigris-Euphrates Heartland today. No voices have yet emerged in a collective form to utter the one word which Gandhi said exists in all human languages. And that word is “NO!”
Malala and Kailash may indeed represent the place where that voice may come from, sooner than we think; perhaps the next phase in the ‘Arab Spring’ lurks among the youth, and their votaries, in the Islamic world and elsewhere, who resist manipulation by orthodox mullahs and ayatollahs, priests and preachers, true believers of all stripes, political charlatans, greed-driven economic opportunists, and the machinations of foreign powers.
Should this not take place then a very different future scenario is in store for the Trans-Tigris-Euphrates world and its extensions. Even the Indic world may not in the end be speared, as already indicated in my previous article. This, of course, would be the ultimate human tragedy for the South Asian region.
The post Where Is The Islamic Gandhi? Can It Be Malala And Kailash – Analysis appeared first on Eurasia Review.