Mustafa Malik

Category: Secularism

Lost in ‘post-secular’ Bangladesh

 

Badruddin Umer is upset because he sees that the Bangladesh Jamaat-e Islami party and “right-wing forces” have strengthened since last year’s student-led uprising. Speaking at a meeting celebrating that upheaval at the National Press Club in Dhaka, Umer lambasted the  National Citizens Party (NCP), led by some of those students, for “mixing religion with politics.”

 

And he deplored the fact that Bangladeshi politics don’t reflect a struggle between the working class and the exploitative economic and political establishments. He has been doing so for more than half a century.

 

I have always admired Umer’s commentaries and activism, espousing democracy and opposing political repression. He vociferously denounced the brutal autocracy of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina Wajed, who was overthrown by the student-led upheaval.

 

The problem with Umer, however, is that he has been left behind by Bangladeshi society and culture, as well as the world at large. He began his career as a Marxist-Leninist activist, disdaining religious values and gearing up for a Marxist class struggle in what was East Pakistan and is now Bangladesh.

In the 1950s and early 1960s, strands of the progressive politics in East Pakistan, as in much of the rest of the developing world, were underpinned by Marxist themes. In 1957, while a 10th grader at a Sylhet high school, I was almost recruited to an underground Communist organization by Mofiz Ali, a well-known Communist leader from Shamshernagar in Maulvibaza district.

 

Beginning in the Bengali Language Movement, Islamic expressions and idioms were despised in some elite circles in East Pakistan, who identified Islam with Urdu-speaking West Pakistani elites, who opposed the demand to make Bengali a Pakistani state language.

 

Communism and the idea of class struggle have since vanished in Bangladesh, as elsewhere, even though our Badruddin Umer still harps on it.

 

Western secularism, especially the French model, totally banishes religion and religious symbols from the public sphere. That brand of secularism has been alien to “Muslim Bengal,” which spearheaded the Pakistan movement, the harbinger of Bangladesh. Islam has been the bedrock of Bengalee Muslim, hence Bangladeshi, culture and politics. Without the Muslim League government in Bengal in 1946  under Prime Minister Husseyn Shaheede Suhrawardy, Pakistan could probably never have been born, and neither would have Bangladesh.

In the 1950s and 1960s, some Bengali political and cultural activists mimicked Western secularist conduct and rhetoric, disowning the Islam-oriented social and political values of our Bengalee Muslim society. This approach never worked and has since been abandoned by most people in Bangladesh. Bangladeshis view secularism (as does the Indian National Congress) as freedom to uphold religious values and practices in private and much of the public sphere. Philosopher Charles Taylor would refer to such an arrangement as “post-secular.”

Sheikh Mujibur Rahman founded a “secular, socialist” Bangladesh. Prime Minister Hasina, his daughter, used to launch her election campaigns with prayers at the shrine of the saint Hazrat Shahjalal in Sylhet. And she performed a widely publicized hajj pilgrimage to Mecca. On her return trip, she descended from the aircraft, mumbling prayers while holding a rosary with her outstretched right hand. All the same, she professed to be a secularist.

Badruddin Umer is a discordant voice of a failed ideological experimentation of the bygone era.

 

~Mustafa Malik, the host of the blog ‘mustafamalik.com’, is a retired American journalist who grew up in Bangladesh.

 

 

 

 

 

Can Bangladesh keep democratic?

 

BANGLADESH HAS BEGUN the first annual celebration of its struggle for the restoration of democracy.

 

A student-led movement during last July and August overthrew Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina Wajed, ending her 16-year-long repressive autocracy and ushering in the interim government of the Nobel laureate Chief Adviser Muhammad Yunus.

 

Opening the celebrations, Professor Yunus called on Bangladeshis to remain vigilant so “autocracy can’t raise its ugly head again.”

 

At a separate event, Syed Abdullah Muhammad Taher, deputy leader (naeb-e amir) of the Jamaat-e Islami party, echoed Yunus’s call but warned the celebrants to watch out so “the BNP doesn’t restart looting” after coming to power again.

 

The Bangladesh Nationalist Party, or BNP, had been accused of engaging in corruption under Prime Minister Khaleda Zia’s 2001-2006 regime. Her son, Tarique Rahman, was blamed for embezzlement and other criminal activities through what was known as “Hawa Bhavan” schemes.

 

The BNP and the Jamaat had been allies in previous governments. In December 2003, Martiur Rahman Nizami, then Jamaat chief and industries minister in a BNP-led government, told me at his Shilpa Bhavan office in Dhaka that his party’s alliance with the BNP was “an alliance of values.”  He meant Islamic values because the two right-of-center parties were pitted against the staunchly secular, pro-Indian Awami League party.

 

(Nizami would later be executed by the Hasina government on seemingly trumped-up charges of sedition and crimes against humanity.)

 

The BNP and the Jamaat are now the largest political parties in Bangladesh, and their old rival, the Awami League, is in the political wilderness. Having no other rivals, the two parties are gearing up to fight against each other in the next parliamentary elections, which are expected to be held early next year. Jamaat leader Muhamad Taher’s dig at the BNP appears to be a preview of their upcoming election campaigns.

 

Holding elections isn’t the biggest challenge facing Bangladesh, however. Establishing Democracy is.

 

The Bangladesh independence movement began in the late 1960s as a struggle to restore democracy in old Pakistan, of which Bangladesh was a province. Nearly a dozen parliamentary elections have been held during Bangladesh’s 54-year-long history, and yet democracy has eluded the country.

 

Sheikh Mujibur Rahman launched the Bangladesh independence struggle in East Pakistan and became the founder of independent Bangladesh. He was elected the country’s first prime minister, but transformed himself into a brutal dictator, ruling the country under a one-party government. Having assassinated democracy, Mujib himself fell victim to assassins’ bullets in August 1975.

 

The BNP was launched by one of Mujib’s successors, Maj. Gen. Ziaur Rahman, after he had grabbed power through an army coup d’état. President Zia ruled Bangladesh with an iron fist. In August 1978, I asked his titular prime minister, Shah Azizur Rahman, in Dhaka about “the status of democracy” under his boss’s civilian government.

 

“It takes a while,” replied the old stalwart of the Pakistan movement.

 

Zia’s civilian government followed an election, and after an interlude of another military dictatorship, elections were restored in 1991, returning the BNP to power, followed by a string of Awami League governments under Hasina.  All elections held under Hasina were rigged.

 

The student-led upheaval that toppled Hasina and drove her into India last Aug. 5 was an outburst of Bangladeshis’ pent-up outrage at her and her Awami League, who had not only unleashed wanton tyranny but relegated all levels of society into their servitude.

 

In July 2022, I was waiting for my turn to see a physician at his private chamber in Sylhet town, where I live. Suddenly, the doctor’s assistant dropped her phone and told him that the vice president of the town’s Awami League branch had arrived for a visit with the doctor.

 

Did he have an appointment? I asked the assistant. She nodded no.

 

The doctor ordered us to wait until the Awami League bigwig was served. As the mighty visitor lumbered through the waiting room, everybody – except me – rose in veneration. The man incinerated me with his blazing gaze before entering the doctor’s chamber.

 

Bangladeshis are waiting impatiently to see democracy restored once again to their country. The challenge they face will be to build a democratic culture and keep up their vigilance against the forays of future autocrats.

 

In 1787, a Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia adopted the American Constitution. Having got the document approved by delegates, Benjamin Franklin, one of America’s founding fathers, stepped out into the street.

 

“Is it a monarchy or a republic, doctor?” a woman asked the sage, who was commonly called “doctor,” even though he didn’t have a doctorate or a medical degree.

 

“A republic, madam,” Franklin replied, “if you can keep it.”

 

Muhammad Yunus and his interim government are striving to have democracy restored in Bangladesh. It will be up to the Bangladeshis to keep it.

 

~Mustafa Malik, the host of the blog ‘mustafamalik.com,’  worked for more than three decades as a reporter, editor and columnist for American newspapers and as a researcher for American think tanks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Erdogan: Secular Muslim icon

POLLS SHOW TURKISH President Recep Tayyip Erdogan behind the opposition presidential nominee, Kemal Kilicdaroglu. Erdogan has alienated a lot of Turks through his crackdowns on descent and media outlets critical of him. The Turkish economy is reeling from double-digit inflation and the lira has been decimated by his fixation with low interest rates. The Biden administration has been consistently supporting the anti-Turkish Kurdish militia in Syria, who have aggravated Turkey’s security problems.

Well, poll numbers could be see-sawing before the May 14 the election; we can’t predict now whom the Turkish voters will finally pick as their next president. But in case – just in case – Erdogan’s 20-year rule as president and prime minister of Turkey is coming to an end, I’m wondering what legacy he would be leaving behind.

In Western political circles and media, Erdogan has been virulently reviled since he came to power, mainly because of his Islamic roots and muscular foreign policy, which occasionally clashes with those of America and the West. On the other hand, he has continually espoused and defended Muslim causes and issues around the world as no other Muslim leader has, and a Pew Research poll has found him to be the most admired statesman in the Muslim world.

Some philosophers and sociologists (Jurgen Habermas, Gregor McLennan, et al) would call him a “post-secularist,” one retaining a secular political system while allowing religious values and symbols to infiltrate the public space.  Others (e.g. Asef Bayat, Vali Nasr) would label him a “post-Islamist,” as he came from an Islamist political party but has left it and set up a secular one and has been working through secular institutions.

I prefer calling the Turkish president a “Muslim democrat,” the phrase Erdogan used to describe himself to me. It identifies him, I think, more authentically. It took me years, though, to come to realize its authenticity.

On the hot, muggy afternoon of Nov. 2, 1998, my Turkish friend and interpreter, Cemal Usak, barged in with me to the office of the then Istanbul mayor, Erdogan. Usak was his classmate and boyhood friend and had set up my interview with him. Usak was general secretary to the Journalists and Writers Association in Istanbul and had been helping me with my research project.

Erdogan was putting things into cardboard boxes in the middle of the room, but he got up and led us to a coach behind a tea table blazoning a multicolor bouquet in the middle. A few weeks before, the mayor had been fired from his job after his conviction for reciting a provocative Islamic poem at a public meeting. Turkey was under the ultra-secularist government of Prime Minister Ahmet Mesut Yilmaz. The Islamist mayor had been given a 10-month prison sentence for reading out the so-called “jihadist poem.” It read:

“The mosques are our barracks, the minarets our bayonets, the domes our helmets and the faithful our soldiers….”

I had been to Turkey for nearly two months and found an Islamic resurgence roiling the country. Erdogan’s prison sentence (which would later be reduced to four months) had made him a hero of sorts among Islamists and many everyday Turks.

Having seated us on the coach, our host scampered to an assistant and was instructing him about what to put into which boxes, etc. I noticed bouquets and clusters of flowers filling the whole corner of the room to my right. I asked an attendant why there were so many flowers in the room.

“People started bringing them in since the day he returned from the court,” he said. Usak explained that he meant since the day the court gave Erdogan the prison sentence.

Erdogan rushed back and sat next to me on the coach and asked how long I had been working at the Washington Times.

I realized that Usak had briefed him about me.

I said I had left the Washington Times to take up my current assignment.  “I am doing fieldwork in Western Europe and here about the prospects for Turkey’s membership of the European Union,” I added.

Erdogan’s eyes lit up, indicting his interest in the subject. He asked a couple of questions about my findings on the issue in European countries. I kept my answers brief and told him that I didn’t find “Europeans very interested in having you in the European Union.”

“You think so?” he said. “We would like to join the European Union, though.”

I was surprised to hear that.

“But your leader, Mr. Erbakan, has been opposed to Turkey’s EU membership and NATO membership,” I said.

Necmettin Erbakan, president of the Islamist Welfare Party to which Erdogan belonged, had been denouncing Turkish governments’ attempt to join the EU and Turkey’s membership of NATO, and when he was prime minister, he tried, unsuccessfully, to form an “Islamic NATO” with eight Muslim countries. Erbakan was the founder of the Islamist movement in Turkey. He had been overthrown as prime minister the year before under the pressure of army generals, the traditional guardians of Turkey’s aggressively secular system. The generals had judged him a threat to the country’s secular system.

Erdogan didn’t respond to my comment about Erbakan’s opposition to Turkey’s accession to the EU.

Religious freedom

After asking him a couple of other questions, I said, “If the Welfare Party came to power today, would you try to introduce the Shari’a in Turkey?”

“No, the Sharia is for individual Muslims to observe,” he replied, beckoning me to a glass of soft drink and a plate of biscuits placed on the tea table. “The state should be secular.”

I was stunned again. A radical Islamist wants a secular Turkish state!”

“Isn’t the secular state sending you to prison for reading an Islamic poem?” I said, having had a sip of the drink.

He explained that “the Kemalists’ version” of secularism suppressed people’s  religious freedom and persecuted women who wore Islamic head covering in public, but that under his version of secularism “the state will guarantee religious freedom.”

The officials and other supporters of the staunchly secular Turkish state, founded by Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, are known as “Kemalists.”

“I’m a secular Muslim,” he added, “but I want religious freedom. For everybody.”

Now he’s a secular Muslim!

I was shocked.

The man who was going to prison for reciting a “jihadist poem” and has been known throughout Turkey as a diehard Islamist now says he’s a secular Muslim.  He must be lying through his teeth, I said to myself. I suspected that Usak had told him that I wrote in American newspapers and journals, and he just didn’t want Americans to think of him as an Islamist zealot.

On my way back I asked Usak what he made of Erdogan’s description of himself as a secular Muslim. My friend was a follower of Fethullah Gulen, a famous Turkish cleric who would be accused in 2016 of sponsoring a failed military coup against the Erdogan government.

“We are secular Muslims, too,” he said. Gulen and his followers were indeed secular. “You are,” I replied, “but the Welfare Party is an Islamist organization and your friend [Erdogan] is a leader of that party. An Islamist firebrand.”

I recalled my interviews with Abdullah Gul, then a member of the Turkish parliament (later president of Turkey) and Ahmet Davutoglu, a professor at Marmara University in Istanbul who was known as Erdogan’s mentor (later Turkish prime minister); both had ruled out introducing Islamic law in Turkey but neither of them had identified himself as secular. I hadn’t brought up the question, however.

I was getting ready to return to the United States and wished that I had the time to investigate why Erdogan had called himself as a “secular Muslim.”

The next day I dropped in at Istanbul’s Hurriyet newspaper office for a goodbye lunch with my friend Oktay Eksi, the paper’s chief columnist.

I told him about my interview with Erdogan and said, “Can you believe that Erdogan told me that he was a secular Muslim?”

Eksi used to be a politician belonging to the secularist Republican People’s Party.

“These Islamists are hypocrites,” he said, trying cut a piece of meat on his plate with his knife and fork. “But I heard that Erdogan, Abdullah Gul, Bulent Arinc and a few others are going to leave the Rafah [Welfare] Party.”

I stopped eating, anxious to hear more about it.

“Really?” I said. “Why?”

Eksi said he had learned from Welfare Party sources that “a number of younger party members” had decided that an Islamist party won’t have a future in Turkey, “especially after Erdogan’s jail sentence and the firing of Erbakan” as prime minister.

Those party members were “led by Erdogan and Gul to a meeting with Erbakan,”  he added, where they had “a fight with Rajai Kutan.” Kutan was an Erbakan’s closest associate.

I have since been following Turkish politics and have interviewed Erdogan twice more – in Turkey and Washington – and I understand that his and many other Turkish Islamists’ transition to the “secular” Justice and Development Party (AKP) was the result of serious soul searching. They have realized that an Islamist party won’t be tolerated by the Turkish army and Kemalist elites and would be ostracized by Europe and America.

During my visit to Turkey the following year Erbakan admitted to me the rift in his party. He said some of the dissidents had been “very dear to me, and they are pious Muslim brothers,” but that they thought they could serve Islam better from “outside politics.” They were “misguided” and needed “more courage” to pursue Islamist politics, Erbakan added.

Over the decades I have frequented Muslim countries in South and West Asia and Muslim communities in America and Europe.  I have seen an interesting trend among many Muslims almost everywhere. They pray and fast and are building mosques and madrasas. They agitate over the persecution of Muslims in India, Palestine and Myanmar. But they are leaving Islamist organizations.

In Bangladesh, where I live now, mosques and madrasahs are proliferating. And Friday congregations in some mosques extend to the yards. But the Bangladeshi Islamist party, the Jamaat-i-Islami, has all but become extinct.

The Bangladeshi population is more than 90 percent Muslim, but the Jamaat-i-Islami there has never received more than 6 percent of the vote. Pakistanis are 96 percent Muslim. There, too, the Jamaat never got more than 6 percent of the vote. In Indonesia, the world’s largest Muslim country, the largest Islamist party, the Prosperous Justice Party (PKS), won 8 percent of the vote at the last election, and the second-largest, the United Development Party (PPP), got 4 percent.  In Morocco, the Islamist Justice and Development Party (PJD) suffered the most devastating defeat at the 2021 elections, having lost 112 seats and winning only 13.  Yet in all these Muslim-majority countries, Islamic piety, values and symbols permeate social and cultural life.

To me, it all means that Muslims are modernizing fast and jettisoning Islamism because it doesn’t fit well with the public space where modernity reigns. Yet they continue to practice the Islamic faith and cherish Islamic values, which lend meaning to their lives.

The point I’m trying make is exemplified by Anwar Ibrahim, Malaysia’s current prime minister.  I met him in Washington in the 1980s as a fire-breathing Islamist youth from Malaysia. He was the leader of Malaysia’s largest Islamic youth movement, known as ABIM (Angkatan Belia Islam Malaysia) and a darling of the American Muslim leaders. Together with the Islamic scholar Ismail al-Faruqi, Anwar founded the Islamic think tank International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT) in Herndon, Virginia.

On his return to Malaysia, Anwar plunged into radical Islamic politics and was having a hard time making progress. Along the way, he served jail terms in sodomy and corruption cases, apparently trumped up by his political rivals. While he was going through these, he began espousing ethnic pluralism and religious tolerance. He was reaching out to the Chinese minority and other non-Muslim ethnic communities and gaining their support.  Last November Anwar became prime minister as the head of a progressive alliance, while the hardline Malaysia Islamic Party (PAS) led the opposition.

Democratic institutions

In one of his first press interviews as prime minister, Anwar told Reuters that he would work hard to “rid the country of corruption, racism and religious bigotry,” the last phrase was apparently aimed at the Islamist PAS.

I see Anwar following Erdogan’s political trajectory.  Once a radical Islamist, Erdogan has emerged as a leading secularist among Muslim rulers in the world. He has retained Turkey’s secular constitution and democratized its laws. Turkey is about the only Muslim country where alcohol stores and bars are open. Erdogan has wrested democratic institutions from the clutches of the Kemalist army and judiciary. And he reined in the army and the courts, which were strangleholds of Kemalism.

As part of his agenda for religious freedom, Erdogan struggled for years to lift the ban on Muslim women’s headscarves in public institutions until he succeeded in doing so and got the Directorate of Religious Affairs to open new Islamic schools and mosques. In his view, that was part of his struggle for freedom, i.e. religious freedom, denied to Turkish Muslims by authoritarian Kemalist regimes. A Kemalist prosecutor made a failed attempt in a court to have Erdogan’s AKP banned for its alleged threat to the secular constitution. As prime minister, Erdogan tried hard, but unsuccessfully, to join the EU and he keeps Turkey firmly in NATO, long opposed by some of Turkish Islamists.

He not only established secular democracy in Turkey but propagated it in other Muslim countries as well. During his 2011 trip to Egypt, he enraged many of his hosts when he advised them: “I hope there will be a secular state in Egypt. One must not be afraid of secularism. Egypt will grow in democracy and those called upon to draw up the constitution must understand it must respect all religions.”

Oh yes, Erdogan is also zealously espousing Muslim causes in Palestine, Kashmir, and elsewhere. He has built more than 100 mosques in a host of foreign countries. Among them is the largest American mosque built in what used to be my neighborhood in the Washington suburbs. In 2020 he earned vociferous denunciation from the West when he re-converted Hagia Sophia (or Aya Sofia) from a museum back into a mosque. Once a Byzantine cathedral, the Turks, in 1453, had made it a mosque upon their conquest of Istanbul (then the Byzantine capital of Constantinople), but Ataturk, during his campaign to de-Islamize Turkey, had made it a museum.

All this fits into Erdogan’s version of secularism, or “post-secularism.” In contemporary philosophers’ and definition, “post-secularism” allows religious values and symbols in the public space, so long as it insured equality, freedom and pluralism.

Actually, the Western liberal brand of secularism, which quarantines religion into the private sphere, is a unique invention of the West. It was devised to rid society of Christian fanaticism, which had exploded in Europe during the “Wars of Religion.”

“’Secular’ itself is a Christian term,” the eminent Canadian philosopher Charles Taylor explains, “that is a word that finds its meaning in a Christian context.” He adds that the Western concept of secularism “doesn’t travel well and should not be imposed on other cultures.”

In fact in almost none of the non-Western societies, including democratic ones, religion or religious values are completely rinsed out of the public space, as it’s done in Western and Northern Europe – and as Ataturk and his Kemalists struggled to do in Turkey for nearly eight decades. In Erdogan’s “Muslim secularist” Turkey, religious values and symbols are visible in the public space, but their adherents are not nearly as brutal and repressive as are today’s Hindu nationalists in India, known as “the world’s largest democracy,” or right-wing Jews in apartheid Israel, which the West calls “the only democracy in the Middle East.”

Erdogan’s crackdowns on his political opponents – thousands of them – has negated many of the freedoms he recovered from the authoritarian Kemalist regimes and the coup-prone Turkish military.  I hear, too, that financial corruption has infected his family and party. Erdogan fatigue has crept into swathes of Turkish society.  I won’t be surprised if next month’s election marks the end of Erdogan’s tumultuous political career.

But the “Muslim secularism,” or “post-Islamism,” which he has established in Turkey, will, I believe, remain his enduring political and social legacy in Turkey. I was struck to note that Kilicdaroglu, Erdogan’s Kemalist rival in the presidential election, co-sponsored the bill in the parliament that allowed Muslim women to wear headscarves in public institutions. Kilicdaroglu, too, has an Islamist party in his six-party electoral alliance!

On his campaign trail, Kilicdaroglu has been trying to court the conservative Muslim vote. Many of these Muslims hate many Kemalists’ drinking habits. Ataturk died of cirrhosis of the liver due to heavy drinking, and his critics criticize him for partying around the “raki [alcohol] table.” The Kemalist presidential candidate has vowed to steer clear of those “at the raki table.”

Erdogan’s “Muslim secularism” has all but replaced Kemalism in much of Turkish society.

  • Mustafa Malik, the host of this blog, researched Turkish-European relations in Turkey and five Western European countries as a journalism fellow for the German Marshall Fund of the United States.