Religious secularity

Conceptualizing religious secularity

Religious secularity challenges the legitimacy of the Islamic state and draws attention to the detrimental impact of the unification of religion and the state. The religious secularity discourse objects to both the politicization of Islam and authoritarian secularism. It blurs the boundaries between the religious and the secular, conflating the terms into one. In the mainstream literature on secularism which is generally argued from a western Judeo-Christian perspective, being secular is usually defined as antithetical to being religious. ¹ In sharp contrast to this, however, neither is the border between the religious and the secular pronounced nor, as evinced by Islamic history, is the relationship between the two understood in dualistic terms. This may provide an explanation for the difficulty in translating the term ‘secular’ into native languages in the Muslim world. This being said, the experiences of secular efforts in the Islamic context have differed from those in the western world. In the West, the relationship between science and religion and the desire for worldliness was a major part of secularization. But, as these dimensions of secularism are already embedded in Islamic teachings, there is no need to contest them. ² In this vein, religious secularity challenges the dichotomy between the religious and the secular. In the Islamic context, to be religious is to be secular and to be secular is to be religious. This is why the religious secularity discourse neither incorporates debates surrounding the science–religion conundrum nor engages in worldliness–next-worldliness speculation. Rather than being a philosophical-comprehensive project, religious secularity is a politico-religious discourse, which is focused on depriving the so-called ‘Islamic’ state of any transcendental claims.

This article uses the term ‘secularity’ in order to distinguish the emerging discourse in Shi’ite Iran from the more general usage of related terms such as ‘secularization’ and ‘secularism’. According to José Casanova, the term ‘secular’ is central to constructing, codifying, grasping and experiencing ‘a realm or reality differentiated from the religious’. ³ The religious secular dichotomy is rooted in this understanding of the secular. But in the Islamic context there is no fundamental distinction between religion and the most important dimensions of the secular. The term ‘secularization’ refers to a comprehensive historical process whereby religion loses its significance both in individual and societal spheres. Individual belief in transcendental forces weakens, and, at the societal level, religion loses its influence in the public sphere through the prioritization of science, emphasis on worldliness and the separation of church and state. By no means does my usage of the term ‘secularity’ in this article refer to this comprehensive process of weakening religion in individual and public life.

The term ‘secularity’ is intentionally used to clarify the distinction between the emerging discourse in Iran and the conventional understanding of secularism as a global paradigm. I concur with Scharffs, who distinguishes secularity from secularism. For him, secularity represents ‘an approach to religion–state relations that avoids identification of the state with any particular religion or ideology … and that endeavours to provide a neutral framework capable of accommodating a broad range of religions and beliefs’. ⁴ In this article, then, secularity does not advocate the total elimination of religion from political practice; rather, it narrowly promotes the institutional neutrality of the state in religious matters.

A global Muslim discourse

It is not easy to provide a clear and inclusive definition of the term ‘secularity’. Building on the three connotations of secularity proposed by José Casanova, ⁵ I use the term to refer to institutional settings in which elements such as the state and economy are divorced from religion. Focusing on the European and American experiences, Casanova sees secularism as the emancipation of state and economy from religion, ⁶ whereas for the purposes of revisionist political Islam, secularism constitutes the emancipation of religion from state. Contemporary literature on the subject unanimously regards secularity as a highly diverse experience. Alfred Stepan, for example, speaks of multiple secularisms; ⁷ Casanova of European or American exceptionalism; ⁸ and Rajeev Bhargava of a model of secularism rooted specifically in the Indian subcontinent. ⁹ Thus, it is not unusual to speak of divergent and specific models of secularity in the Muslim world.

Both conceptually and empirically, secularism in the Muslim world is associated with anti-religious policies. Because there is no accurate translation of the term ‘secularism’ in the Arabic, Persian and Turkish lexicons, it remains an alien concept to Muslims. As a normative ideal, European models of secularism have typically been hostile to Muslims. ¹⁰ For much of the Muslim world, secularism is perceived as an imported, top-down ideology particular to authoritarian regimes. ¹¹ In recent years, however, a stronger acknowledgement of the plural forms of secularism has emerged.

Egyptian scholar Nasr Abu Zayd, while approving of the separation of religious institutions from the state, refuted the removal of religion from public life. ¹² Similarly, Algerian scholar Muhammad Arkoun distinguishes between ‘positive moderate secularism’ and ‘negative extremist secularism’. ¹³ Acknowledging that secularism is imbued with unhelpful connotations in the Muslim world, eminent Islamic scholar Abou El Fadl stresses an important positive feature of secularism: ‘Secularism is necessary to avoid the hegemony and abuse of those who pretend to speak for God.’ ¹⁴ Rashid Al-Ghannouchi, a Tunisian scholar, speaks of French vs Anglo-Saxon secularism, ¹⁵ and, most recently, Abdullahi An-Na’im advocates that an inclusive secular democratic state is compatible with Islam as it safeguards the separation of religion from state but not religion from politics. The shifting trend is not confined to scholarly circles. The Turkish AKP government has challenged both the stereotypical image of political Islam and French-style assertive secularism. While the AKP government operates within a secular political structure, it seeks to reconcile religiosity with secular politics. The volatile political developments in the Middle East and North Africa following the ‘Arab Spring’ reinforce the proposition that the religious secularity discourse is not confined to Shi’ite Iran. In his first interview after returning from exile to Tunisia, the leader of Hizb al-Nahdah, Rashid Al-Ghannouchi, announced that an Islamic state was not an option for his country. ¹⁶ The Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood reacted negatively to Ayatollah Khamanei’s claim crediting Iran’s 1979 Islamic revolution with the recent uprisings in the Middle Eastern region. They have stressed that the Egyptian revolution is not an Islamic revolution. A Gallup poll conducted following the fall from power of Egypt’s President Hosni Mubarak showed that less than 1 per cent of Egyptians favour an Iranian-style Islamic clerical state. ¹⁷ Although their experiences have been different, Muslim majority countries in South-East Asia such as Indonesia and Malaysia are based on the ‘quasi-secular state’ paradigm. ¹⁸

Given that some Muslim countries in the Middle East and North Africa are in a process of political transition, it is not easy to anticipate the outcome of this politically volatile phase. In particular, the increasing power of the Salafis in the Egyptian political mosaic has raised concerns about the possible ascendency of Islamic fundamentalists. However, moderate Islamists also enjoy immense political influence. This article is geared primarily toward religious secularity within an Iranian framework. Iran’s political experience is of particular significance given the nine decades in which it has witnessed both the authoritarian secular state and the Islamic state. While the religious secularity discourse is a direct response to the Islamic state, it also bears the scars of authoritarian secularization, the approach adopted during the country’s 60-year rule by the Pahlavi regime. Shi’ite religious leaders have a long history of exposure to modern political concepts. Early in the 20th century, Iran’s Shiite leaders were embroiled in the Constitutional Revolution, by which they became pioneers in the Muslim world for the integration of religious articulation with modern political thought. Iran’s victory against authoritarian secularization offered Islamists an opportunity to pursue their objectives from a powerful position. Regardless of its Shi’ite character, as Esposito highlights, the 1979 revolution ‘spurred’ Islamic movements all over the Muslim world. ¹⁹ And despite its failures and tarnished reputation, any shift in the Iranian politico-religious discourse will certainly migrate beyond Iran’s borders. In particular, the religious secularity discourse has become a topic of growing importance following Arab uprisings as it questions not only state-dominated secularization but also state-dominated Islamization. Furthermore, when it comes to the issue of secularity, in light of the lived experience of the Islamic state in Iran, Iran’s case occupies a specific position. It is in fact the contradictions of an Islamic state that has encouraged leading Iranian scholars to promote the notion of religious secularity.

Inherent contradiction between state law and the shariah

A basic function of the modern state is to enforce a fixed set of rules as law. States have the legitimate right to use coercion to impose these laws on the populace. As Na’im observes, this function contradicts the voluntary nature of the shariah. This contradiction is not a matter of bad practice in a specific time or location; rather, it is an inherent and fundamental paradox. Insisting on the necessity of a neutral state in Islamic society, Na’im argues that the enactment of the shariah as state law is a fallacious goal which can never be realized. ²⁰ Similarly, Eshkevari contends that some principles in the shariah are neither just nor rational in the modern era, and thus it is not practical for a state to enforce shariah. ²¹ Na’im further insists that because there are strong disagreements among and within the different schools of Islam, it is not feasible to practise all the various interpretations of the shariah as state law at once. He states:

It is simply impossible to know and apply Shari’a in this life except through the agency of human beings. Any view of Shari’a known to Muslims today, even if unanimously agreed upon, had to emerge from the opinion of human beings about the meaning of the Qur’an and Sunna … In other words, opinions of Muslim scholars became part of Shari’a through the consensus of believers over many centuries, and not by the spontaneous decree of a ruler or the will of a single group of scholars. ²²

The lived experience of the Islamic state in Iran conforms to the above-mentioned conceptual concerns surrounding the applicability of the shariah by the state. Soon after establishing the Islamic state, the ruling clergy realized the multifarious realities of governance issues, which made the practice of many religious principles impossible. ²³ Hundreds of examples can be cited in which the ruling clergy have had to ignore religious precepts. Mehran Tamadonfar’s investigation of the level of non-compliance with the shari’ah by the Islamic Republic concludes that: ‘They have found it increasingly impossible to govern by the Shari’ah. Motivated by self-preservation and intent on maintaining control, they have turned into self-appointed “guardians of the community” and have abandoned the guardianship of Islam.’ ²⁴ Confronted by this contradiction, the ruling clergy reconceptualized state–religion relations. Ayatollah Khomeini introduced the new religious concept of Fiqh-ul Maslaha [expedient fiqh] and implemented it by institutional reforms in the political structure.

Fiqh-ul Maslaha: An authoritarian solution

The aforementioned contradiction could have been mitigated by giving precedence to religious, rather than political, precepts. But opting for this course of action could conceivably have resulted in the emergence of an untimely religio-political system similar to that of the Taliban in Afghanistan. Perhaps with this in mind, Iran’s ruling clergy opted to overlook religious precepts in favour of political considerations. The adoption of religious precepts in changing situations in different times and places has always been a primary responsibility of jurists. Regardless of different approaches, there has been a general consensus regarding the two overarching categorizations: constant precepts and variable precepts. While the former refers to those precepts which are applicable across place and time, the latter can be adjusted based on circumstance. Khomeini bypassed this traditional categorization by authorizing the state to change every religious precept. He introduced the pioneering conceptualization of expedient fiqh [Fiqh-ul Maslaha] within the Shi’ite jurisprudential faculty. Khomeini, who approved the violation of religious precepts, admitted that many religious precepts are not applicable when they are sought to be practised by a state in the contemporary world. Khomeini stated:

One of the extremely important issues in the current turbulent situation is the role of time and space in Ijtihad and decision making. [The] government sets the practical doctrine of dealing with polytheism, [and] heresy as well as domestic and international problems. And not only are [they] not soluble by these seminary debates, which take place in [a] theoretical framework, but [they] also take us to a deadlock which results in a seeming violation of the Constitution. ²⁵

According to the concept of expedient fiqh, when incompatibility arises, political considerations take priority over religious precepts. Even fundamental religious practices such as worshipping are not excluded:

A government which is a branch of the Prophet Mohammad’s absolute guardianship is one of the primary Islamic precepts and takes priority over all subsidiary precepts, even over praying, fasting and pilgrimage … if necessary, [a] governor can close or destroy mosques … the government can unilaterally terminate its religious agreements with the people if an agreement violates the expedience of the country or Islam. And [it] can abandon every commandment – both worshipping and non-worshipping precepts – which is against the expedience of Islam. ²⁶

Khomeini is repeatedly quoted referring to the government as the most religiously indispensable issue [Oujab-e vajebat], which suggests that regime preservation is of the highest priority among all that is required. ²⁷ For Khomeini, religious precepts are not inherently desired; they are instruments and not goals. Thus, in the interests of preserving the main goal, which is the state, these subsidiary aspirations can be changed or deliberately overlooked. ²⁸

This pragmatic approach, which is has been described as ‘a process of secularizing Shi’ite Fiqh’, ²⁹ has persuaded some scholars that a religious state may actually lead to secularization. Acting as political rulers, religious leaders have to adjust Islamic principles to accomplish state tasks. ³⁰ This shift seemingly aligns with the aspirations of religious secularity. However, it becomes problematic when the political side of the coin – of expedient fiqh – is taken into consideration. Khomeini shifted his doctrine of ‘Velayat-e Faqih’ to ‘Velayat-e Motlagh-e Faqih’ (absolute guardian of jurist), according to which one person has the ultimate authority over the decision-making process. Based on his understanding of the expedient, Valey-e Faqih has the final word not only on all governance issues but also regarding the necessity either to implement or to abandon religious precepts. In other words, the state is Islamic because it is led by Valey-e Faqih, not because it enforces Islamic precepts.

This approach found its determinant position within the legally constituted structure via the establishment of the Council for the Determination of the Interest of the Islamic State [Majma-e Tashkhis-e Maslahat-e Nezam], just seven years after the founding of the Islamic Republic. According to Iran’s political structure, the religious watchdog, the Guardian Council, has the authority to refuse and nullify parliament’s endorsements should they prove incompatible with Islamic principles. In the early years of the Islamic Republic, many endorsements were rejected ostensibly due to their incompatibility with Islam. ³¹ In a bid to end the deadlock, Khomeini ordered the setting-up of the expedient council with the authority to overlook Islamic commandments in the interests of the state and to override the Guardian Council’s decisions. This council was introduced to the constitution via the 1989 amendment, together with the reformation of the Velayat-e Faqih [guardian of jurist] to Velayat-e Motlagh-e Faqih [absolute guardian of jurist.

The Fiqh-ul Maslaha solution casts reasonable doubt over the nature of the Islamic Republic of Iran. Since post-revolutionary Iran is ruled by the clergy, and all policies are dressed in Islamic garb, there is a common misconception that the Islamic Republic is a theocratic regime. However, the actual workings and lived experience of the Islamic state in Iran challenge this misconception. The establishment of Majma-e Tashkhis-e Maslahat-e Nezam [that can approve regulations contrary to Islamic principles], close diplomatic ties with communist regimes, existence of interest in the banking system, promotion of Khamenei to the rank of Ayatollah and later on to Marja-e Taghlid based on political calculations of the regime, these reveal the prioritization of political convenience over strict theocratic attitude. Thus, theocracy does not accurately characterize state–religion relations in the post-revolutionary era. There has been a shift from the dominance of religion over politics to the supremacy of politics. Given these facts, I would agree with Chehabi’s observation that ‘the attempt to found a theocracy in Iran has [had] only … superficial success’. ³²

A shifting trend: From theocracy to Caesaro-papism

Sociologists of religion have proposed various models of interaction between religious institutions and the state. These models include the supremacy of church over state, i.e. theocracy or hierocracy, at one end of the spectrum, and the dominance of state over religion, including Erastianism and Caesaro-papism, at the other. ³³ In contrast to Roman Catholicism, lack of a unified hierarchical system in Islam has resulted in an ambiguous relationship between religion and state. ³⁴ This begs an important question: To what extent can the ruling clergy in Iran claim to represent religion? Having posed this question, it would not be easy to accurately qualify the Islamic Republic of Iran as a theocracy. ³⁵ Indeed, an underlying trend points to a shift in state–religion relations in post-revolutionary Iran.

The early years after the 1979 revolution were marked by the dominance of religion over politics but subsequent years witnessed a shift to the supremacy of politics. Not only did Khomeini hold the highest of all religious positions – that of Grand Ayatollah – even though many others such as Montazeri, Taleghani, Beheshti and Mousavi Ardebili were widely recognized as high-ranking clergy in religious terms. Their religious standing enhanced their political credentials. With time, this situation changed, and it is now political power that reinforces religious credibility. ³⁶ An outstanding example in this regard is the current Supreme Leader, Khamanei. When Ayatollah Khomeini, the founder of the Islamic Republic, died in 1989, the ruling clergy’s decisions would have had profound implications for state–religion relations. Of the two indispensable qualifications required for the position of Supreme Leader stipulated in the constitution (article 109), one was an impeccable religious competence, i.e. source of emulation [Marja-e Taghlid], and the other political capability. Yet during his two terms as president, Khamanei possessed only the second qualification and was by no means qualified for the first. ³⁷ The amendment to the constitution ³⁸ paved the way for him to fill the vacancy left by Ayatollah Khomeini, who was qualified for the position in both political and religious terms. ³⁹ While there were many other high-ranking religious figures, the selection of Khamanei was a conscious decision of the ruling clergy, who prioritized political capacity over religious credentials. ⁴⁰ More than 20 years after his appointment as Supreme Leader, Khamanei’s religious leadership remains tenuous. ⁴¹

Other positions filled by the clergy have followed the same pattern, prompting Oliver Roy to observe: ‘Today, there is not a single grand ayatollah in power.’ ⁴² Many of the high-ranking religious leaders, even those known to be supporters of the regime, do not occupy official positions. The political instability that prevailed in 2009 explicitly revealed the distance between high-ranking religious leaders and the Islamic Republic. This was borne out by a considerable number of grand ayatollahs who did not send congratulatory messages to President Ahmadinejad on the occasion of his second term and did not meet him during his visit to Qom in March 2010. ⁴³ Despite these realities, ‘Islamic’ is still the most familiar tag in Iran’s political lexicon, provoking revisionist religious scholars to propose an alternative conceptualization of state–religion relations.

Some reformist scholars have concurred with the ruling clergy that many religious precepts are not applicable in contemporary times and that a rational approach should be adopted to manage socio-political and economic matters. ⁴⁴ However, rather than rationalizing political considerations in the name of Islam (‘Maslaha’ in Khomeini’s words), they promote a secular democratic articulation through the emancipation of religion from state.

The emancipation of religion: A secular-democratic solution

Concerns over the manipulation and exploitation of religion for political ends led a group of religious scholars to propose an alternative to expedient fiqh, i.e. discharging fiqh from governmental responsibility. Employing the same jurisprudential reasoning as Khomeini, Mohsen Kadivar divides Islamic precepts into four dimensions: (1) faith and belief; (2) morality; (3) worship; and (4) social transaction. The faith/belief dimension addresses issues such as belief in God and in Judgement Day. Ethical or moral elements establish principles for self-purification and virtuous values. Worship includes praying, fasting and pilgrimage [Hajj] rules. Lastly, social transaction addresses socio-political and economic matters, namely ‘fiqh of social transaction’ [fiqh-e Moamelati].

Asserting that governance issues fall into the last category, Kadivar states that 98 per cent of the verses from the Qur’an address issues related to the first three dimensions and only 2 per cent relate to social transaction. ⁴⁵ He further states that Islam explicitly avoids providing economic, political, or policy prescriptions applicable to every time and in every place. ⁴⁶ Kadivar’s reading of the shariah concludes that each and every one of the social transaction precepts possessed three features in the revelation era: (1) rationality; (2) justice; and (3) the offer of the most judicious prescription. Kadivar concludes that unlike the worshipping precepts, this dimension of Islamic teachings is subject to human reasoning, as was the case in the revelation era. ⁴⁷

Another jurisprudential argument is rooted in the distinction between ‘established’ [taasisi] and ‘approved’ [emzaiee] precepts. The first refers to precepts that were initiated by Islam and of which there is no record in the pre-Islamic era. The second set did in fact exist in the pre-Islamic Hejaz. ⁴⁸ According to Eshkevari, the Prophet Muhammad did not introduce new socio-political and economic structures but approved the existing structures as they were, or with minor changes. ⁴⁹ This suggests that these precepts are not an intrinsic part of Islam. In the words of Eshkevari:

If the Prophet of Islam were alive now and wanted to complete his sacred mission under the current situation, he would take the same inevitable logical and rational approach towards the social norms, traditions, and mores … finally [he would] make creative and effective interaction with the contemporary era. ⁵⁰

Similarly to Eshkevari, Kadivar subscribes to the notion that most of the social transaction precepts are approved precepts. Islam accepted many of the socio-political rules established in pre-Islamic time in order to achieve justice. Thus, they are valid insofar as they are seen to be just and rational in accordance with the conventions of contemporary times. ⁵¹ Kadivar proposes justice as a new denomination to distinguish between constant and variable precepts. There is thus no fixed definition of justice; rather, it is defined based upon an understanding by the public in a particular time and place. Human reasoning and compatibility with contemporaneous rationality can judiciously determine if a religious precept is applicable to every place and time. Unlike Eshkevari, Kadivar does not propose modifying variable precepts but instead refers to them as precepts that are outdated and disqualified from practice. As an alternative, he proposes that ‘Instead of these variable precepts which are outdated, rational laws ought to be issued by the collective reasoning of people and these laws must not be attributed to religion’. ⁵² Kadivar raises a fundamental objection to expedient fiqh by arguing that only God and the Prophet Muhammad hold law-making jurisdiction. No other person – neither jurist nor guardian of jurist – is authorized to issue religious precepts. Kadivar insists that ‘It is not admissible to issue civic commands and attribute them to religion and the Shari'a’. ⁵³

The mutable nature of socio-political and economic contexts forms the bedrock of religious secularity. However, this contextual approach is not confined to jurisprudential arguments. Scholars such as Mohammad Mojtahed-Shabestari and Abdulkarim Soroush, who adopt theological and philosophical perspectives, broach the socio-political and economic contexts to argue for religious secularity. Mojtahed-Shabestari contends that from the beginning religion was not established to engender change in socio-political structures. Islamic precepts were responses to the socio-political challenges of the revelation era. Because, he argues, the challenges of the contemporary world are completely different, the Qur’an and traditions should not be expected to provide Muslims with sufficient answers. In contrast to Kadivar and Eshkevari, Mojtahed-Shabestari does not address the issue of constant and variable precepts. When it comes to political matters, Islamic sources do not offer orders/prohibitions because they do not relate to contemporary questions. As with Kadivar, Mojtahed-Shabestari sees justice as the principal objective of Islam and the overarching principle to be borrowed from Islam to manage the socio-political arena.

Mojtahed-Shabestari further argues that there is a fundamental difference between the orders/prohibitions of God and those of the state. For a believer, absolute submission to God’s orders/prohibitions is required, but this submission is rooted in discretionary trust. He states: ‘Being sure that there are matters of God’s orders/prohibitions, a believer will obey them without … question … State authority can never be the source of this submission.’ ⁵⁴ Even if state authorities claim commitment to God’s orders/prohibitions, this commitment and its consequences are human phenomena and not sacred. Islam cannot be held responsible for socio-political matters shaped by human decisions. ⁵⁵

In this respect, Mojtahed-Shabestari’s view is close to that of Soroush, who, adding a profane feature to the Qur’an, argues that religion possesses both essential and accidental dimensions. The essential dimension is an inseparable feature of religion; but the accidental dimension, which includes most aspects of religion, may have initially been shaped in a different format. Compared with those of Kadivar and Eshkevari, Soroush’s concept of the essential and accidental in religion offers fertile ground for fundamental change in religion-oriented issues. He lists eight dimensions of religion as contingent ⁵⁶ and maintains that the variability of precepts is not confined to the socio-political realms; the shariah, taken overall, is contingent. So, whereas Kadivar and Eshkevari consider worshipping precepts constant, Soroush, presenting them as a contingent dimension of religion, states:

The precepts of Shari’ah, religious customs, the form and appearance of rites of worship and other rites, and the regulations pertaining to individual and social behaviour … are originally ordained on the basis of the lives and characteristics and the spiritual, social, geographical and historical circumstances of a particular people, such that, had these circumstances been different, the customs, precepts and regulations would also have taken on a different form and shape … There can be no doubt that the underlying contention is that most of the precepts of fiqh and even its basic tenets are accidentals. Even prayers and fasting have been made proportionate to what people can endure on average. If their endurance was much greater, the obligations may well have been more severe. ⁵⁷

Soroush’s proposition poses fundamental challenges to religious claims in the socio-political sphere. For him, religion can and will be preserved, even if these precepts undergo fundamental change. They were not fundamental to religion in the revelation era, let alone in the contemporary world where the context is completely different.

Religion and political ideology

‘Islam is the solution’ [al-Islam huwa al-hal] has been the main slogan of most Islamic movements that have striven to find solutions to the myriad problems facing Muslims in the modern world. ⁵⁸ The 1979 Islamic revolution was no exception: the doctrine of Velayat-e Faqih refers to this assumption on many occasions. In an attempt to justify the Islamic state in the modern age, Khomeini wrote:

[T]he laws of the [S]hari‘ah embrace a diverse body of laws and regulation[s], which amounts to a complete social system. In this system of laws, all the needs of man have been met: his dealings with his neighbors, fellow citizens, and clan, as well as children and relatives; the concerns of private and marital life; regulations concerning war and peace and intercourse with other nations; penal and commercial law; and regulations pertaining to trade, industry and agriculture … It is obvious, then, how much care Islam devotes to government and the political and economic relations of society, with [the] goal of creating conditions conducive to the production of morally upright and virtuous human beings. The Glorious Qur'an and the Sunnah contain all the laws and ordinances man needs in order to attain happiness and the perfection of his state. ⁵⁹

Unrealistic worldly expectations of religion have been generated as a consequence of the above attitude. However, the lived experience of the Islamic state in Iran has prompted some religious scholars to revise their early conceptualizations. Mehdi Bazargan, the first prime minister of post-revolutionary Iran, was an outstanding example of this trend. Both at the practical and the scholarly levels, Bazargan played an effective role in supplementing religion with socio-political functions. ⁶⁰ However, having experienced the contradictions of the Islamic state, Bazargan revised his earlier ideas. ⁶¹ In a speech delivered in 1992, he argued that setting worldly aims for religion contradicts the spirit of teachings in the Qur’an. In support of this, he introduced two ultimate goals for religion: God and the hereafter. He contested that jurisprudential precepts accounted for only 2 per cent of the holy text. He argued that every page and verse of the Qur’an expressed ‘directly or indirectly, explicitly or implicitly concern about God and the hereafter’. ⁶² Bazargan further argued that the social precepts of the Qur’an aim to facilitate believers’ devotion to God and that, if these precepts have impacted on the worldly life of Muslims, it is a subsidiary outcome, not the main goal of the aforesaid precepts. He asserted that in return for believers’ alms, the Qur’an promises next-worldly rewards, and in no way invites the expectation of gaining social justice or achieving economic growth in return:

If worldly issues and their improvement are not pictured as a goal and responsibility of religion, religion won’t be charged with deficiency and incompetence. It won’t be said that [Islamic] principles and precepts do not include … comprehensive and complete ground rules required for political, social and economic issues of the society. ⁶³

Bazargan concluded that there is no difference between governance and other living issues: ‘Islam and the prophet have not taught us cooking, gardening, ranching and housekeeping. As [these issues] are left to us to be managed via employing our wisdom, experiences and skills … economic management and political issues are our responsibilities as well.’ ⁶⁴

Along with Bazargan, Soroush counters the notion that religion should address worldly issues as seeing religion in this light opens up the dangerous possibility of converting religion into a political ideology. ⁶⁵ He maintains that in reaction to reformation in the West, Islamic scholars initiated the secularization of religion, ⁶⁶ according to which worldly matters become the principal concern of Islam. Islamic reformers in the 19th and 20th centuries were of the opinion that making a better life in this world would lead to a better hereafter; and it followed that religion became furnished with socio-political functions. ⁶⁷ Contrary to the thought of his mentor Ali Shariati, who is widely recognized as the ideologue of modern political Islam, ⁶⁸ Soroush argues that the main function of religion is to inform and lead human beings on matters pertaining to the hereafter. ⁶⁹ In The Theoretical Expansion and Constriction of Shari’a, Soroush argues that it is impossible to reach a single understanding of Islam. However, transforming religion into a political ideology is to cast it in a fixed and static model: ⁷⁰ ‘The use of religion as a political tool … subordinates the depth and complexity of religious understandings to the imperatives of a temporary political struggle.’ ⁷¹

Soroush’s refutation of recruiting religion as a political ideology brings him in line with Bazargan’s concerns. Worldly issues are religion’s concern as long as they serve next-worldly happiness, but this does not mean that religion provides a plan of action for worldly matters, as is the case with political ideologies. As Soroush puts it: ‘Planning should include the economy, population, public education … all of which are the products of logical arrangements of human beings. Religion cannot replace rationality in these arenas.’ ⁷²

Mojtahed-Shabestari presents an even more forthright argument. Sadri asserts that his most significant contribution to the religious reformation discourse is his ‘authoritative commentary on the essentially limited nature of religious knowledge and rules’. ⁷³ Mojtahed-Shabestari maintains that it is not the task of prophets to provide guidelines for introducing social, political and economic structures. ⁷⁴ The knowledge required for governance in the modern age is absent from Islamic teachings:

Development is a social goal that should be pursued by citizens of a given society through their own free will … [Muslims] should seek the required knowledge [for development] themselves or get it from the developed countries. The intervention of the [holy] book and traditions in the development of Muslim societies is just for setting the final moral goals of the development, which should not contradict the principles of the moral values of the book and traditions. ⁷⁵

Referring to the lived experience of Iran, Mojtahed-Shabestari argues that the macro-policies implemented by the Islamic Republic are formulated by a rational planning process, not derived from the holy book or traditions. There was, he claims, a rational reading of religion early after the 1979 revolution, which resulted in the writing of the constitution based on modern political philosophy and the social sciences. ⁷⁶ Challenging the role of fatwas, he asks: ‘Can we write a constitution in the contemporary world through accumulating tens of fatwas? Is the Constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran a combination of fatwas?’ ⁷⁷ A review of the process of writing the constitution highlights the rational discussions that centred upon different articles of the constitution. The structure, segregation of powers, independent judicial system, rights to self-expression and formation of political parties reveal the incorporation of modern concepts in the constitution. However, the enforcement of these aspects was overshadowed by concentration of the absolute power in Velayat-e Faqih. Like Kadivar, Mojtahed-Shabestari objects to labelling governance issues ‘Islamic’ arguing that it is not acceptable to depict routine governance responsibilities as akin to Islamic precepts. ⁷⁸

Soroush claims that, in essence, the state’s task has little to do with religion. Labelling these responsibilities ‘Islamic’ changes neither their nature nor the ways in which they ought to be approached. An Islamic state cannot be different from other states in terms of function or form. This is why, according to Soroush, methods of governance are essentially extra-religious issues. ⁷⁹ In order to plan and administer issues pertaining to public life, education, economy and health care, for example, states ought to adhere to rational reasoning. In modern times, he argues, religion cannot effectively manage these arenas. The effective tools for such a task lie in the social sciences, including sociology, economics and public administration. ⁸⁰ In Soroush’s view, the occasional intervention of religious sources in these matters does not obviate the need for other forms of knowledge. ⁸¹ Medieval Islamic historian and philosopher Ibn Khaldūn, in al-Muqaddima, his magnum opus, addressed the same issues, distinguishing these aspects of religious sources from the Prophet’s core message:

The medicine mentioned in religious tradition is of the (Bedouin) type. It is in no way part of the divine revelation … Muhammad was sent to teach us the religious law. He was not sent to teach us medicine or any other ordinary matter. ⁸²

In pursuing the logic, Soroush asserts that there is no difference between issues pertaining to governance and medical or engineering issues as they are all scientific and methodological issues, which cannot be considered the responsibility of religion. As methodological and managerial issues have a rational nature, referring them to religion would be a mistake. ⁸³

In sum, the lived experience of the Islamic state in Iran has witnessed the misuse of religion to attain political goals. Disillusioned by the authoritarian excesses of the Islamic state, a group of religious scholars, who supported the establishment of the Islamic state in the 1970s and later contributed to the institutionalization of the Islamic state in the 1980s, have reconceptualized the notion of political Islam. They have deconstructed the socio-political dimensions of Islam in order to argue for the adoption of rational decision-making mechanisms suited to the political arena. This discourse, which is based upon religious sources, employs Islamic jurisprudential and theological methods. This means that the alternative to the jurisprudence used by the ruling clergy is yet using jurisprudence to argue the contrary. It appears that the intra-religious argument is effective when confronting the Caesaro-papist state – given the holy and non-criticizable facet of such a state and the demagogical methods it uses to mobilize support and suppress non-religious alternatives. Reformist scholars have effectively retrieved major events in Islamic history and reinterpreted relevant Qura’nic verses and Hadiths to challenge the underlying religious justification for the Islamic state. One may argue that this reading of Islamic sources somewhat hinders the application of Schmitt’s doctrine of Political Theology to Muslim polities. While Schmitt maintains that all key concepts of the modern theory of the state are secularized theological concepts, ⁸⁴ religious secularity debunks religious foundations of the state. Rooted as it is in religious concerns, religious secularity principally seeks the emancipation of religion from state. These distinguishing features of the discourse invite the oxymoronic phrase ‘religious secularity’.

Conclusion

The post-colonial states of the Muslim world regarded modernization and secularization as a solution to the challenges confronting nation-building. This is evident in Mohammad Ali’s reforms in Egypt in the late 19th century, Ataturk’s secularization plans for Turkey, Reza Shah and his son Mohammad Reza Shah’s secularization programs in Iran, the Baathist movement in Iraq and Syria, and the programmes put in place by the Algerian Front de Liberation. They all envisioned victory for the secularization forces, but, as John Keane points out, the temporary victory of the forces favouring the ‘privatization’ of religion in some contexts may be considered as but one episode in the complex history of modern religious politics. ⁸⁵ State-imposed secularization created its own backlash in the form of political Islam. ⁸⁶ This is a phenomenon which has been popularly associated with the so-called ‘Islamism–Secularism’ conflict. ⁸⁷

It is not far-fetched to propose that the emergence of political Islam in the closing decades of the 20th century represented a significant contribution to the subverting of the global secularization thesis popularized by Herbert Spencer, Karl Marx, Max Weber and Emile Durkheim. Much of the academic literature in the new millennium is critical – or at least sceptical – of this thesis, although the secular–religious dichotomy is still the underlying assumption in the debate surrounding secularism. Once again, developments in the Muslim world are making a profound contribution to this debate by questioning this underlying assumption, i.e. the dichotomy between the secular and the religious.

The Turkish AKP exemplifies the emergence of new Islamism which challenges both the conventional notion of political Islam and French-style secularism. The AKP’s new Islamism is a response to Kamalist assertive secularism. ⁸⁸ It adopts a flexible attitude towards the secular political structure and seeks to reconcile religiosity with secular politics. A similar trend may be drawn from the emerging politico-religious discourse in Iran.

This article sheds light on an emerging discourse in which secularity is promoted not only as desirable but also as an inevitable political structure vital to ensuring genuine religiosity. The authoritarian excesses of Iran’s Islamic state have led neither to the abandonment of religion in the political sphere nor to the re-emergence of anti-religious secularism. Instead, a religious discourse based upon the compatibility of Islam and political secularity has generated considerable public support. This was evident in the profound influence of the religious scholars on the eve of the reformist era (1997–2005) and the Green Movement (2009 onwards).

Recent volatile political developments in the Middle East and North Africa affirm the rising prominence of the religious secularity discourse. Rather than militant political Islam, it is the moderate Islamic groups, along with other discourses, that are playing a pivotal role in reconstructing the states in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and Yemen. The most influential representatives of Islamic discourse are moderate political Islamists such as the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and Libya, and Al-Nahda in Tunisia. In the Egyptian parliamentary election, for example, the Brotherhood’s Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) claimed almost twice as many seats as the Salafist al-Nour Party. The FJP won 47 per cent, or 235 seats in the 498-seat parliament. The al-Nour Party received 25 per cent or 125 seats. ⁸⁹ Having said this, further comparative study tracing the efficacy of similar discourses in other Muslim countries – particularly those with Sunni majorities – will serve as a fruitful contribution to the scholarship on revisionist political Islam.

Charles Taylor, who scrutinizes the history of the religious vs the secular, calls for the decentring of attention from religion in debates about secularity. ⁹⁰ The argument advanced by this article pushes the boundaries of this suggestion by proposing the possibility not only of the coexistence of religion and secularity but of the need to recognize the religious roots of an emerging model of secularity in the Muslim world and, with that, the reductive nature of the secular–religious dichotomy. Here we align with Keane’s anticipation of the possibility ‘for a new political philosophy which is rid of fictions about the withering away and privatization of religion’. ⁹¹