Introduction

Is Islam a Political Religion?

The political use of religion is not new. Moses was the first revolutionary who rebelled against the tyrannical Pharaoh and led the Israelites out of Egypt. Likewise, Christ rebelled against the prevailing political order that was unjust and cruel. Though following the same mould, Mohammed was different. Though he led the Israelites out of bondage, Moses was forbidden to set foot on the Promised Land. Christ met his fate on the cross. Mohammed on the other hand, not only lived to see the establishment of a new faith but also functioned as its political as well as military leader. He converted others into his faith, fought wars, conquered territories, levied taxes, established the first Islamic Empire, and established a set of rules that continues to govern the lives of Muslims to this day. In short, ‘Moses died before he entered the Promised Land; Christ dies on the cross. Muhammad attained not martyrdom but power’ (Lewis, 1984: p. 5).

Unlike Christianity, Islam does not distinguish the spiritual and the temporal. The biblical demand of ‘Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s’ did not come about easily. If rulers claimed ‘divine rights’, the papacy wielded political powers. The articulation of ‘doctrine of two kingdoms’ by German theologian Martin Luther forced the church–state separation. Reformation and enlightenment significantly weakened the hold of one over the other, if not decoupled them.

The trajectory of Islam is different. Theologically the spiritual–temporal separation is unknown to Islam. Despite an ocean of debates and interpretations, it sees religion as the composite whole. This narrow view can be observed in the location of minorities within Islamic discourses. More than 14 centuries after Prophet Mohammed, dhimmi is the only Islamic framework toward the minority population (Kumaraswamy, 2007). The framework is not only outdated but is inadequate to explain the status of various non-Islamic and non-Arab minorities who live in various Islamic countries. Many see the dhimmi approach as illliberal and condescending. Furthermore, it is inadequate to explain the status of ethnic groups and heterogeneous Islamic sects. The desire of some countries to impose Sharia laws upon the non-Muslim population has caused social tensions and in the case of Sudan led to its partition.

Because of its politicized nature, Islam has been used by various rulers to further their interests and calculations by securing religious legitimacy. This trend is most visible in the office of the caliph, an institution that survived for over 13 centuries until its abolition in 1924. The selection of a caliph has never been easy. This is true for the early caliphs or Rashidun caliphs who succeeded Prophet Mohammed. Though Prophet’s father-in-law was quickly chosen as his successor, some felt that this choice was an injustice to Ali, Prophet’s son-in-law. This difference eventually led to first dissent within Islam and the emergence of a distinct sect, Shia Islam.

The office of caliph also politicized the ulema. The selection of the caliph was not a smooth affair. Islam has emphasized on the role of consensus in choosing the leader of the community. This idea has often been interpreted as the precursor to the modern-day concept of democracy. The selection of early caliphs is often cited as the example. Furthermore, the office of caliph was never governed by the principle of primogeniture, and conflict among siblings and other contenders was not uncommon. This, in turn, meant a greater role for the ulema in legitimizing the caliphs. Due to fears over social upheaval amidst battles for succession, legitimacy of the clergy became crucial. This eventually came to symbolize the Sunni Islam dogma of ‘worse Muslim ruler is better than chaos.’ As and when political conditions demanded, the caliphs sought and obtained favorable religious rulings. The hunger for power also diminished the Shia–Sunni divide during the Middle Ages. Though the caliphate is a Sunni institution, between 909 and 1171 it was occupied by the Fatimids who adhered to Shia Islam. Thus, when it comes to political power, the absence of mehdi did not inhibit the Shias to covert the caliphate.

Over centuries, the ulema became subservient to the rulers and functioned as their handmaid. This trend continues to this day. Egypt’s decision to conclude a peace agreement with Israel was preceded by President Anwar Sadat seeking and securing a favorable edict from Al-Azhar and Grand Mufti Sheikh Gad al-Haq. In a similar vein, Saudi Sheikh Abd al-Aziz Bin-Baz issued religious rulings in August 1990 and January 1991 which enabled King Fahd to seek American military assistance in reversing the Iraqi aggression of Kuwait. One finds similar pro-regime fatwas by ulema on issues such as suicide terrorism and the Islamic Caliphate State.

Religious intervention in politics became inevitable also because of the internecine violence that followed soon after Prophet’s death. The era of four immediate successors has often been hailed as the golden age of Islam and a return to puritan way of life was often seen as the answer to many problems plaguing the community. It is often forgotten that violence did not spare even the first four caliphs after Mohammed. With the sole exception of Abu-Bakr, Prophet’s father-in-law and immediate successor, the other three did not have a natural death.

The politicization was also visible in the manner in which the believer was defined. This is essential as Islam prohibit waging war against fellow Muslims [Quran]. Islam also beholds them to practice equality toward fellow Muslims. Rulers circumvented both these provisions by declaring their adversaries as nonbelievers or heretics. In the early sixteenth century, the Ottoman caliph obtained a ruling that declared the Shias as heretics to be non-Muslims, thereby enabling him launch a war. Following his assassination of President Sadat, Khalid Islambouli claimed, ‘he killed a pharaoh not a Muslim’. By declaring the Shias to be non-Muslim, the Wahhabis sought to justify and legitimize the social and economic discrimination of the Shia minority in Saudi Arabia. The declaration of Ahamidiyyas as non-Muslims by Pakistan was also aimed at legitimizing the discriminatory treatment. Conversely, due to political exigencies, Alawites in Syria were declared as Muslims by Musa al-Sadr in Lebanon.

Is there Extremism in Islam?

By their very nature, ideologies, both secular and religious, espouse a degree of violence to accomplish their ‘noble’ goals. Some of the most brutal killings since the end of World War II have been perpetuated by ideologies that were not linked to religion such as Fascism, Nazism, or Communism. The same trend can be noticed by religious extremism. Despite their peaceful teachings, at some point or another, religious scriptures or teachings have been used to perpetuate and justify violence against the nonbelievers or against those whose religious credentials are questioned. This is the result of religion dominating the political discourse of the day.

By presenting and promising a divine path to the believers, each religion identifies specific treatment for the nonbelievers. Indeed, all the prominent religions of the world have a specific derogatory expression for the other, namely, gentile, infidel, kafir, and meleach. Without such a clear and differentiated treatment, each religion appears to be less relevant. Indeed, in all religions the universalism is available and applied only to the believers and not to those who refuse to accept the faith. When the canonical differentiations are taken literally and given a political flavor, extremism and violence become inevitable. As and when suitable, various groups justify violence through canonical text. This is true for Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, Sikhism, Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, and of course Islam.

The use of religion is most visible in suicide terrorism. Various national and religious groups have justified taking one’s life in furtherance of larger political goals. Violently taking one’s life has been glorified by the Japanese tradition of hara-kiri to the Sri Lankan Tamil Tigers. In a similar vein, the political reinterpretation or misrepresentation of Islam can be noticed in suicide terrorism. Islam abhors taking one’s own life as a disobedience of the almighty. Only God, according to the Quran, has the power to create and destroy human life. The religious sanctions against contraceptives and abortions in some Islamic societies, such as Jordan and Pakistan, have to be viewed within this context God alone being the giver as well as taker of life.

Despite this sanction, many militant Islamic groups have managed to bestow religious sanctity upon their suicide campaigns whose explicit purpose is to take away as many lives as possible. A number of Islamic militant groups have managed to depict their suicide terrorism as an action in furtherance of the larger Islamic cause and a fight against unjust non-Islamic rulers and groups who harm the faithful. In so doing, these groups are able to overcome another Islamic sanction against killing women and children. According to Quranic teachings, women and children are to be spared even during battle in the furtherance of Islam.

Hence, the concept of ‘martyrdom’ through terrorism is theologically untenable as it goes against two basic tenets of Islam: taking one’s own life and killing of women and children. Despite this, the ideologies of various militant groups which are active in the Middle East and elsewhere have been justifying and glorifying their terror campaign as part of the jihad and a duty of all the Muslims. This trend of religious glorification of suicide terrorism can be noticed not only among al-Qaida and Islamic Caliphate but also among mainstream groups such as Hamas and Hezbollah.

In looking at Islam-extremism linkages, one has to recognize two signs. Over the years, the understanding of extremism has been evolving. Pious Muslims are seen as extremists by secular Muslims; a member of the Muslim Brotherhood is an extremist to pious Muslims; just as Wahhabis are to the Muslim Brotherhood; or Salafis to the Wahhabis; or jihadis to the Salafis; and now the Islamic Caliphate to the jihadis. The militant Palestinian group Hamas was seen as extremist until the arrival of the Salafis in the Gaza Strip since 2006; the Muslim Brotherhood was seen as extremists in Egypt till the arrival of the Salafis. When the Taliban destroyed the sixth-century Buddha statues in Bamiyan, the Islamic Republic of Iran was one of the first to condemn it as a despicable and un-Islamic act. Seen within the context of ISIS which decapitates western hostages and indulges in large-scale abduction of women belonging to various minority sects, the Taliban’s destruction appears less brutal.

In other words, there is a gradual escalation of extremism. However deploring their actions are, these groups explain, justify, and perpetuate their actions in the name of Islam. Dynamiting the historical treasures at Bamiyan, Taliban exalted praise on Allah and observed that Muslims should be proud of smashing of idols. Killing 58 Western tourists in Luxor in November 1997, the Salafi al-Gama’a al-Islamiyya maintained the idea of Islamic pride and fight against Islam. Likewise, Hamas never regretted or apologized for the killing of women and children.

It is a painful truth that religious extremism is on the rise and this is not confined only to Islam. In the name of Khalistan, Sikh extremist killed, terrorized, and traumatized thousands in the 1980s. The demolition of the controversial Babri Masjid in Ayodhya in December 1992 continues to be the epitome of disastrous consequence of Hindu extremism. Much of the Tamil problem in Sri Lanka can be located within the context of Sinhala extremism backed by the Buddhist clergy. The emergence of renewed support for Caliphate is another manifestation of Islamic extremism in the Middle East.

At the same time, it is essential to recognize that these groups or individuals wedded to extremism are very small. There are extremist voices in many communities; the British cleric Anjem Chaudhari for example, has been making inciting statements justifying the killing of non-Muslims. There are others who explicitly identify the ‘kafir’ status and the refusal to recognize and embrace peaceful Islam as the reason for their brutal killings. If the September 11 terror attack is the epitome of such an intolerant worldview of the other, the emergence of the ISIS is the new link in this chain. Despite this, the number of people actively involved in such violence appears to be small. For most youth, joining the Islamic Caliphate or similar outfits is nothing more than a sign of rebelling against the status quo.

Is Islam Monolithic?

The holistic set of beliefs, however, is not monotheistic. Being a religion with a universal appeal, it has different and at times differing interpretations, worldviews, and understandings of the society. If Shias were the first dissenters, they also spurred similar dissent subsequently and paved the way for a host of sects within and outside Islam; Twelver Jafris, Ismailis, Ahmadiyyas, and Alivies are the notable ones. For a while, the Baha’is existed within the Islamic fold and now increasingly they are seen as the followers of a distinct faith.

From the followers of Sufi Islam to the proponents of the Islamic Caliphate, each group justifies its actions on the religious tenets of Islam. The votaries of ijtihad, that advocates accommodation with the other to the proponents of jihad against the infidels, justify their arguments and action on the basis of Islamic scriptures and the practices of Prophet Mohammed. The puritanicals among Sunni Islam consider Shias to be a deviant and hence un-Islamic sect and the latter takes the same view vis-à-vis Sufi Islam.

One could also identify local variations. Islam is universal in its message and egalitarian in its approach toward its followers. The presence of Dalit Muslims in India is a corruption of that nondiscriminatory universalism. Tomb worshipping is integral to Sufi Islam while many African Muslim societies continue to adhere to nature worship. In many western countries Muslim converts retain their earlier Christian names and practices.

The diversity is apparent in the practice of Islamic jurisprudence. The Sunni diversity is manifested through the four distinct schools of Islamic jurisprudence, namely, Hanafi, Maliki, Shafi, and Hanbali. The diversity is also manifested in the role played by Islam in various countries of the Middle East and elsewhere. Most Islamic countries or countries with a majority Muslim population have recognized Islamic jurisprudence. Some have declared Sharia to be one of the sources of law (countries) while others view it as the exclusive prerogative (see Otto, 2009). Some choose to impose Sharia even upon their non-Muslim populations, thereby kindling discontent and tension.

At the same time, there are suggestions in the opposite direction. Some argue that Hindus could be and even were treated as protected people (see Char, 1993; Nasr, 1973). This is a theological challenge as well because of the presence of a multitude of gods and goddesses, idol worship, and the absence of a single divine scripture. It was on the basis of the oneness of god, renunciation of idol worship, and revealed religion that Islam recognized the followers of Judaism, Christianity, and in the Iranian case Zoroastrianism as dhimmi. Theologically the Hindus do not have any of these attributes but their practice is anything but monotheism. Despite this, some scholars do consider Hindus as dhimmis (Nasr 1973). Such a practice could be territory and period specific. During the Mogul rule, the Empire was predominantly Hindu and the Muslim rulers needed a tacit acquiescence of the majority population to ensure political stability and tax revenues. Thus, treating the non-monotheistic Hindus as dhimmis made political and economic sense despite being a theological absurdity. This view toward Hindus can also be noticed in the presence of Hindu temples and other places of worships located in countries such as Oman, Iran, Bahrain, and the UAE (al Jandaly, 2008). There are equally more rigid views of the other. Some Wahhabi scholars for example, deride Shias as non-Muslims and the anti-Ahmadiyya sentiments in Pakistan and Bangladesh are also signs of a more puritanical view of Islam.

The need to counter religious extremism, in this context Islamic extremism, and the reiteration of the peaceful nature of religion brings us to Maulana Abul Kalam Azad. He viewed Islam as a universal but accommodative faith. Writing in the mid-twentieth century, his understanding of the faith was governed by a political reality not visualized during early Islam; that is, Muslims being a minority population. Since the days of Prophet Mohammed, especially under the Rashidun caliphs, Islam visualized and accommodated the presence of a non-Muslim minority amidst the believers. Its confidence of bringing the entire world under its influence was so overwhelming that the Islamic Empire never visualized the possibility of Muslims being a minority population under a non-Muslim rule. This approach was tested in the Indian subcontinent. Despite its presence soon after the death of Prophet Mohammed, Muslims remained a minority in the subcontinent. During British rule, India had the largest Muslim population in the world, but it was predominantly non-Muslim.

This ground reality enabled Azad to adopt a reading of his faith that reflected accommodation, tolerance, and a greater emphasis on secularism.

Azad’s understanding of Islam has to be located within the specific subcontinental politics of his times. He was contesting the League’s claims of Muslims being a distinct and separate nation because of them being the practitioners of a faith different from the majority Hindus. Conceding to this demand of the Muslim League would have spurred similar demands from other religious, ethnic, and tribal groups, thereby vindicating the doomsday prophecy of Winston Churchill of India being nothing more than an idea whose political existence was only sustained by the British Empire. In the words of Azad:

What was the goal that was proclaimed with prominence in the very first issue of Al Hilal? I say with pride that it was the amity between Hindus and Muslims. I had invited the Muslims that in accordance with the injunctions of the Shariah, if there was an adversary that was challenging the truth not just in Asia or the East but all over the globe, and eradicating it, from which there is a threat to the universal truth of God, it is none other than the British Government. Therefore, it is obligatory on the part of the Indian Muslims, that keeping in mind the injunctions of the Shariah, keeping before them the beautiful conduct of the Prophet…it is the obligation of Muslims of India that they tie the knot of truth and love with the Hindus of India and become one nation…. (Al Hilal, 1912 cited in Ahmed n.d.)

Azad’s views regarding religious nationalism propounded by the League was in contrast to the position of the Jamiat Ulema-e-Hind. For theological reasons, it viewed the creation of a distinct Muslim ‘homeland’ in the subcontinent as a disservice to the Muslims because it would further divide the ummah (muslim nation). Far from uniting the Muslims, Jamiat leaders argued, the formation of Pakistan would further divide and weaken the community. According to the Jamiat

The Pakistan demand has British support and is nothing but an instrument forged by them to further their policy of divide and rule; Pakistan will split and, therefore, weaken the Muslims in India; our real enemy is British imperialism and our only duty to defeat it, only a united action can achieve this…’ (Om, 2013)

Azad, on the contrary, used Islam to advocate a distinctly Indian secularism that recognizes and coexists with people of different faiths and believes. He viewed this as a process toward evolving an inclusive and composite Indian identity that would also address the Muslim fears of post-British India being a Hindu-dominated polity. Despite criticisms and vilification from the League and other conservative sections, Azad valiantly tried to prevent the religion-based partition. His efforts eventually failed to prevent partition but the willingness of a significant section of Muslims to opt for India in 1947 was a testimony to the validity of his vision. The formation of Bangladesh in 1971 not only demystified the two-nation theory of Mohammed Ali Jinnah but also pushed India’s standing among the Muslim communities. Currently more Muslims live in India than in Pakistan or Bangladesh.

Though important, one should avoid the temptation of oversimplifying Azad or universalizing his views on Islam. Ignoring the political context and geographical specificity would be a disservice to Azad. His strength and wisdom lies in his willingness to differentiate from both conservative and liberal elements and offer a synthesized version that meets the demands of the Indian nationalist struggle. Rather than seeing him as a model, it would be more appropriate to see him as another illustration of the diversities within Islam and the willingness of scholars and political leaders alike to understand the faith differently.

Since the retreat of Islam from Europe in sixteenth century, various Muslim and non-Muslim scholars on Islam have been trying to explain the political decline of Islam. Some like Jamaladdin Afghani and Syed Ahmed Khan attributed this to the absence of modernization and fresh ideas within the community and its failure to keep pace with the technological advancements of the time. The last treasures of the Greco-Roman literature including those of Plato and Aristotle returned to Europe only through their Arabic translations (Garcia, 2011; Sardar, 2008). The Islamic Empire was the conduit for Europe gaining modern knowledge. Yet, as reformation and renaissance swept Europe since the eighteenth century, the Islamic Empire especially under the Ottomans declined not only in political terms but also in terms of economic progress, technological advancements, and power of reasoning. The replacement of sails by stream-powered ships brought European maritime powers to the heartland of the Islamic world. Gradually Islam retreated from the European heartland and Turkey became the border between the Islamic Middle East and Christian Europe.

As Islam became a fast-expanding faith in other parts of the world, there was a social decline and intellectual stagnation of the Muslim societies since Islam’s retreat from Europe. Many like Stanford Shaw attributed this retreat and resulted political weakness of the Ottoman Empire to the absence of modernization which, in turn, evoked two sets of responses. Complete Westernization was the preferred choice of some while others preferred modernization without westernization. The former meant that the wholesale imitation of the West and the reforms introduced by Kemal Ataturk fell into this category. His introduction of Roman alphabets for the Turkish language, banning of Islamic dress, and the abolition of fur caps are the manifestation of this process of westernization.

The Islamists, on the contrary, came up with a simpler but powerful explanation for the Islamic decline vis-à-vis Europe, namely, back-to-the-basics. In their view, the decline was due to Muslims deviating from the original teachings of Prophet Mohammed and adopting various un-Islamic and non-Islamic customs, cultures, and variations. The presence of various sects within or from Islam was attributed to the corruption of the original divine revelations by ordinary mortals. They rediscovered the Golden Age of Islam and located it in the era of the four Rashidun caliphs. Thus, in responding to the challenges posed by European modernization, they took refuge in the salaf (early Muslims) and hence came be to known as salafi. The emergence of Abdul Wahhab and his narrow interpretations of Islam was partly a response to modernization and its challenges.

There are others like Azad who settled for a middle path that sought to synthesize Islam and modernity. Preference for an inclusive nation over exclusive community was his response to the dilemma facing Muslims of the subcontinent. He was for India as a watan (motherland) of multiple nations, religions, and faiths and preferred it over an Islamic ummah. The latter for him had little attraction or utility in a multireligious, multiethnic, and multilinguistic society. Through his writings in Urdu, he sought to inform, enlighten, and, in the process, to generate a debate among the Indian Muslims. Azad also exemplified the dichotomy facing the Muslims of his time. The secular Jinnah with his limited (some might say nonexisting) knowledge on religion championed Islam as the national identity while well-versed on Islam, Azad sought to present a more inclusive, modern, and secular version of Islam.

Azad’s approach toward Islam is underscored by two contemporary developments, namely, popular protests in the Arab world against prolonged authoritarian rulers and the ongoing debate over the headscarf in many Muslim societies.

Popular protests that are sweeping the Middle East since December 2010 have pushed the Islamists to the forefront. Both in Tunisia, where the protests began, and in Egypt which symbolized the Arab Spring, the Islamists were not the pioneers. Nor were they the catalysts as the agenda of the youth in the Arab countries was anything but religious. Yet, some scholars, observers, and political leaders sought to depict the Arab awakening as a process inspired by Islam. The then Turkish prime minister and now president, Erdogan, was quick to present his AKP as the model for the Arab masses whereby Islam and democracy could coexist. Speaking in Tripoli in September 2011, he observed: ‘Turkey will fight with you until you take all your victory … you proved to the entire world that nothing can stand in the way of what the people want’ (Christie-Miller, 2011). His desire to project the idea of Islamist democracy was lost in the historic Arab–Turkish rivalry and fears over neo-Ottomanism. Similarly, Iran sought to capitalize on President Hosni Mubarak’s departure on February 11, 2011, which coincided with the anniversary of the Islamic revolution of 1979. Only a few months earlier, the Iranian authorities suppressed the Green Revolution in the wake of President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s controversial re-election. Once again, the Iranian aspirations to be a model for the protesting Arab masses glossed over the historic Arab–Persian and Shia–Sunni cleavages.

Despite their initial indifference, the Islamists bandwagoned the popular protests and emerged as the clear beneficiaries of popular discontent. As the most organized force with grassroots support, the Islamists were able to capture popular imagination and acquired political power whenever there were opportunities. Indeed, Islamist parties or parties closer to them have made electoral gains in Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain, as well as in Kuwait. In Egypt they even sought to take the country toward a religious path, thereby forcing the military to play Kamel Ataturk and ‘restore’ a secular lifestyle. In Tunisia, however, the Islamists adopted a moderate position and settled for a new constitution that respected and reflected the country’s plurality.

The rise of Islamists in a number of postcolonial states in the Middle East and elsewhere was partly due to the failure of the secular leaderships to offer good and inclusive governance. Replacing the imperial powers, they emerged as the new autocrats and the attainment of full independence was not accompanied by a desire to evolve an inclusive national identity. Despite the diversity, the rulers of these new political identities sought to impose an inclusive identity based on the ruling family or dominant group. Initially only the minorities suffered and gradually the majority was silenced, thereby providing an opportunity for the Islamists.

The second example is the headscarf. For some Muslim communities in the west, such as Australia and France, the veil has become an expression of freedom for Muslim women. The headscarf and other dresses are seen by them as a sign of independence and differentiation not only from the majority population but also a sign of defiance of the secular or secularizing state (Bullock, 2002: pp. 105–106). This holds true for Turkey where headscarves have become a sign of de-secularization of the Turkish republic. Ataturk abolished headscarves, fur caps, and Arabic alphabets as a sign of the modernization and westernization of Turkey. These measures were imposed from above without any attempts at consensus-building or poplar approval. For the increasingly religious Turkish population, manifested through the successive electoral victories of the AKP since 2003, headscarves have become a new symbol of the Turkish identity.

This trend however is not universal as there is an equally powerful movement in the opposite direction. Muslim societies where veil and other forms of Islamic dress code were the norm are facing a protest of a different kind, de-veiling. Though it evoked strong criticisms, in August 2014—a news reporter appeared without hijab on Saudi television. Given the conservative nature of the society and the presence of an ever-intrusive moral police force, the unidentified anchor was conveying a strong message to the wider Muslim society. Similarly attempts to impose an Islamic dress code upon women in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Yemen, or in the Gaza Strip have come under increasing criticism from the Muslims of these societies. The Saudi women demanding the right to drive is also part of the desire to free themselves from the conservative norms established or imposed by the state. Thus, western Muslim women see the hijab as a sign of freedom from the increasingly less religious society whereas women in the Arab and Islamic countries perceive its removal and renunciation as liberation. Both of them passionately make their case for freedom rooted on Islam.

Both veiling and de-veiling are seen as liberation, thereby reminding the contextual nature of Islam, thereby underscoring the centrality of Azad’s understanding of the constant nature of Islam and its relevance. His recognition of Muslims being a minority enabled him to look for those trajectories of his faith that relied on intolerance, accommodation, and coexistence. Through a secular reading of the religious faith, Azad not only sought salvation for the community but also tried to ensure that post-British India did not turn into a majoritarian state whereby the Muslim minorities would be ‘dhimmi’ in a predominantly Hindu India.