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Orientalism and Conspiracy - Politics and Conspiracy Theory in The Islamic World (Library of Modern Middle East Studies) (PDFDrive) PDF
Orientalism and Conspiracy - Politics and Conspiracy Theory in The Islamic World (Library of Modern Middle East Studies) (PDFDrive) PDF
Orientalism and Conspiracy - Politics and Conspiracy Theory in The Islamic World (Library of Modern Middle East Studies) (PDFDrive) PDF
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ii
Orientalism
&
Conspiracy
POLITICS AND CONSPIRACY THEORY
IN THE ISLAMIC WORLD
The right of Ludwig Paul, Arndt Graf and Schirin Fathi to be identified
as the authors of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in a review, this book, or
any part thereof, may not be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior
written permission of the publisher.
A full CIP record for this book is available from the British Library
A full CIP record for this book is available from the Library of Congress
Preface vii
Sadik J. Al-Azm – Speaking Truth to Power. A Personal Tribute ix
Stefan Wild
Personal Words to an Admired Teacher and Friend xv
Gernot Rotter
List of Contributors xix
PART ONE
Theoretical Approaches
1. Orientalism and Conspiracy 3
Sadik J. Al-Azm
2. Occidentalism as the Political Unconscious in the Literary 29
Construction of the Other
Lorenzo Casini
3. Edward Said and Bernard Lewis on the Question of Orientalism:
A Clash of Paradigms? 45
Mohd Hazim Shah
PART TWO
Historical Perspectives
4. An Orientalist Mythology of Secret Societies 71
Robert Irwin
5. A Cultural Sense of Conspiracies? The Concept of Rumor
as Propaedeutics to Conspiracism 87
Karin Hörner
6. Political Culture, Political Dynamics, and Conspiracism
in the Arab Middle East 105
Matthew Gray
PART THREE
Contemporary Discourses
7. Polemics on “Orientalism” and “Conspiracy”
in Indonesia: A Survey of Public Discourse on the
Case of JIL Versus DDII (2001–2005) 129
J. M. Muslimin
8. Structural Orientalism, Contested Orientalism,
Post-Orientalism: A Case Study of Western Framings
of “Violence in Indonesia” 141
Arndt Graf
9. Memri.org – A Tool of Enlightenment or Incitement? 165
Schirin Fathi
10. The Tragedy of Iblis 181
Sadik J. Al-Azm
Notes 223
Bibliography 239
Index 255
vi
Sadik J. Al-Azm has been considered one of the leading Arab intellec-
tuals and social critics for about 40 years. He became known as such
to a broader Western public in 1989, after the “Rushdie affair”, when
he took a mediating position in the inter-cultural and inter-religious
discussions. In all these, he never failed to make clear his commitment
to enlightenment and freedom of the press and other media, through
which he has become one of the leading proponents of civil society in
the Arab world. He has also decisively influenced the Islamic/Western
“orientalist discourse” of the last 30 years.
The Saidian orientalist hypothesis aimed at correcting the “dis-
torted” picture that (it said) Western societies had constructed of the
Islamic world over centuries. By proposing an “Occidentalist hypoth-
esis”, thus holding up a mirror to the Islamic world, Al-Azm gave
another proof of his intellectual brilliance and wit. A typical ingredient
of the distorted Orientalist and Occidentalist attitudes are conspiracy
theories. It, therefore, seemed appropriate for us to organize a confer-
ence on “orientalism and conspiracy” to honor Sadik J. Al-Azm (in
June 2005, Hamburg), the papers of which are collected in the present
volume.
The term “conspiracy theories” usually denotes ideological pat-
terns of explanation that reduce complex political or social issues to a
simple black-and-white picture. This is done typically by constructing
a scenario in which the we-group is threatened and/or dominated by
a wicked group or organization that is working in secret. Conspiracy
theories are highly complex and socially relevant phenomena of global
impact and have not yet been investigated sufficiently so far.
vii
viii
Stefan Wild
It was in the last days of December 1968, and I had just been posted to
Beirut. The capital of Lebanon was at that time the intellectually liveliest
of all Arab cities. It boasted four universities and had the freest press of
any Arab country. The local historical background was the Arab defeat
against Israel in the June war of 1967 – not more than 18 months had
passed. Nasserism was on the decline, and the Palestinian presence in
Lebanon began to emerge as a major political problem. On the interna-
tional level, this was the era of the Cold War, and the US military got
deeper and deeper entangled in Vietnam. I had only been in Lebanon
for some months, but I had already heard much about the young Syrian
university professor Sadik J. Al-Azm and his “radical views”. Sadik
had been teaching at the American University of Beirut and had run
into problems there. This was not the first and not the last time that
Sadik was at loggerheads with a university administration. I am not
aware that any Arabic university ever thought of awarding Sadik a
doctorate honoris causa. In any case, when I wanted to meet Sadik in
person, I could not see him. He had just been arrested and jailed. The
reason given by the authorities was hard to believe even at the time. The
charge was that Sadik had “stirred up confessional trouble”. The high-
est Muslim religious authority in Lebanon, the Mufti of the Lebanese
Republic, had intervened after Sadik had published his collection of
essays, Critique of Religious Thought (Arabic, Beirut 1968). The Sheikh
started a legal procedure. Lebanese penal law at the time punished
attempts to “foment confessional denominational trouble” as a kind of
ix
national high treason with up to three years in prison. The book had not
unleashed religious unrest, but it had angered the religious authorities,
especially the Sunni establishment. It was confiscated; Sadik at first hid
but on 8 January 1969 gave himself up to the Lebanese authorities and
was imprisoned. A week later, after a trial that was to become famous,
Sadik was released, and I could finally meet him. Many months later,
and to the credit of the Lebanese judicial system, he was acquitted on all
accounts by a Lebanese court.
Speaking truth to power often means to speak truth against power
and has its risks. The conflict between the scholar or – let us use the
much maligned word – the intellectual on the one hand and political
power on the other is symbolized in many languages by the metaphor
of the pen versus the sword. An Arabic proverb even idealistically pro-
claims the pen to be the “better sword”. The formula “speaking truth to
power” as the quintessential function and duty of the intellectual was
made famous by Edward Said (25 September 2003). This formula, of
course, does not mean that the intellectual simply possesses truth and
power does not. It means rather that the intellectual believes that truth
can only emerge in public debate and that public debate can only thrive
when this debate is not made subservient to and controlled by political
power. The intellectual does not claim to have found the truth, but he
insists that political power curbing public debate will kill truth. To create
a space of free public debate is, therefore, an essential part of the intellec-
tual’s task. It was and is Sadik’s task to create this space in Arab society.
Thus, almost all of Sadik’s writings are intended as contributions to
such a public debate. To be specific about Sadik’s part in this, I contrast
for a moment Sadik’s oeuvre with Edward Said’s work on the one
hand and Salman Rushdie’s on the other. To mention these two names,
Edward Said and Salman Rushdie, in connection with Sadik J. Al-Azm
is not a case of name-dropping. Sadik has written on Edward Said and
was close to many of his views, especially about the Arab-Israeli con-
flict. That did not prevent him from clashing very publicly with him on
some points and on some aspects of the Saidian concept of “oriental-
ism” – the title of probably the most influential book Edward Said wrote
(Orientalism, New York 1978). Sadik has also – much later – written
extensively on Salman Rushdie’s literary work. He not only defended
it as an exercise in free speech to which a novelist must be entitled,
rather, Sadik explained, Salman Rushdie’s famous novel The Satanic
xi
It must have been one of the very few occasions on which, to their great
discomfort, these two had to publicly face flat contradiction and even
sardonic irony.
There are a number of constant topics in Sadik’s work: The commit-
ment to more justice for the Palestinians, the critical view of US policy in
the Middle East and his fight against the misuse of institutionalized reli-
gion in the service of oil and power. Let me try to point out what seems
to me to be an important trait of Sadik’s written work with philosophi-
cal implications. Sadik is and was part of what loosely has – or should
one say had – to be called the Arab left. Marxism seemed for many
Arab intellectuals the best way to understand their societies; social-
ism seemed a good way to build a better and more equitable society. In
this, Arab intellectuals were not alone. Throughout the world between
Europe and Latin America and particularly in many developing coun-
tries, socialism promised reform if not revolution. The “Arab Left” had
been projected back into the Middle Ages by such serious philosophers
as Ernst Bloch; Avicenna, Averroes, and al-Farabi were claimed as fore-
runners of modern leftist ideology. In Beirut, publishing houses and lit-
erary circles, clubs, journals, and newspapers ran the whole gamut of
the left: from orthodox communism split into Soviet and Chinese obser-
vance to non-dogmatic Marxism. In Germany, we have good reasons
to be skeptical of Stalinism and “real socialism” as practiced behind
the Iron Curtain. But in the Arab countries, most intellectuals were on
the side of the left even if this left was ill-defined. Secularism, rational-
ism, feminism, and scientific research seemed possible only if and when
these societies moved to the left. The Arab left offered the chance to be
part of an international project that allowed for an unheard of plural-
ism. We may smile today when we go through the yellowing pages of
Khamsin, the “Journal of Revolutionary Socialists of the Middle East”,
which appeared in the late 1970s and early 1980s; it bore the name of
a desert storm and was published in Paris and London. But here was
one of the few platforms that opened a discussion between Arabs and
Israelis. This Arab left never confused Judaism and Zionism, and in
Khamsin we find Sadik J. Al-Azm’s name next to the names of Jewish
and Israeli intellectuals. The virtual disappearance of the Arab left after
the dissolution of the Soviet Union and after the downfall of state social-
ism is, in my view, one of the factors responsible for the rise of an Arab
and Muslim anti-Zionism that is becoming more and more tinged with
xii
xiii
Gernot Rotter
xv
Suddenly, in one of those days long gone, there was a book on every
one’s lips: An-naqd adh-dhâtî ba‘da l-hazîma, “Self-criticism after the
Defeat”, meaning the defeat of the Arab armies in the so-called Six Days’
War against Israel in 1967, written by an hitherto unknown young intel-
lectual of Syrian origin called Sadik J. Al-Azm. And only a few months
later, when I was already back in Germany, but still in close contact with
some Lebanese friends, I learned that a second book by the same author
with the title Naqd al-fikr ad-dînî “Critique of Religious Thought” had
come out and that this book was discussed even more controversially
than the first one.
I do not want to discuss the impact these two books had on the politi-
cal discourse in the Arab world in general – and on the life of their author.
This will be done, I am sure, by others in much greater detail. Instead, I
will focus on the considerable influence that these two books had on my
own academic development as a scholar of Islamic and Arabic Studies
or just as a politically thinking human being.
Before going to Beirut, I had just graduated in Oriental Studies at
the University of Bonn, where my two main teachers had been Otto
Spies and Annemarie Schimmel. Spies, at least in my impression, was
looking at the Near East in quite a conservative and realistic way,
although his main interest lay mainly in very special juridical questions
of medieval shari‘a law, mainly in Turkish and other oriental fairy tales
and in Turkish history. These were topics I myself was not very much
interested in, although I appreciated his capabilities as a teacher and his
great sense of humor.
Annemarie Schimmel on the other hand, herself being a mystic, was
looking at the Muslim world in a very emotional, enthusiastic, and
romantic way. This romanticism was not restricted to a certain time,
social class or intellectual movement in Islamic history but included
the whole modern Muslim world without any reservation and in all its
manifestations.
It cannot be denied that our small group of students was – in one way
or the other – fascinated by the Middle East, but this could not prevent
us from sometimes mocking her exaggerated admiration of the Muslim
World. Nevertheless, the influence of Spies and Schimmel on my aca-
demic development was considerable at that time.
With this background – in addition to the many sympathies for the
revolutionary movements that was typical among European students
xvi
in those days – I had come to Beirut for the first time. Only very slowly
did I take notice of the numerous contradictions within the Lebanese,
Syrian, and Palestinian societies around me, with the result that my
established image of the Arab world started to crumble. Yes, to a certain
degree, I lost my bearings. It was exactly at this time when your book
Self-Criticism after the Defeat came out. Line after line, I felt how furious
and enraged, how disappointed and hopeless you must have been while
writing this book. Whereas most young academics on the campuses of
Beirut’s universities – not to speak of the average citizens – were sure
that foreign conspiracies and interventions had led to the Arab defeat in
1967, you looked for the reasons inherent in the Arab world itself, in its
mentality and traditions, in its incompetence, inability, and unwilling-
ness to criticize itself.
Indeed, the word “self-criticism” (naqd dhâtî) is quite a recent word in
Arabic and just looks like a literary loan translation from either English
“self-criticism” or German “Selbstkritik”. Was it even you, Sadik, who
introduced this word into the modern Arab vocabulary, because of your
extensive knowledge of European philosophy, as only very few others
have in the Arab world?
Asking for self-criticism is asking for realism and rationalism. And
this – and I hope you agree with me, Sadik – is the leitmotif of all your
work: writing for rationalism in the Arab world.
Apart from the contents of the two mentioned books and many more
that followed – and into which I will not go here in more detail – there
were two aspects of your writing style that attracted me. First, in spite of
all your harsh criticism, irony, satire, and sarcasm you never regressed to
plain hatred. And second, you never lost your great sense of humor. For
instance, the way you used the word fahlawî or fahlawîya – taken from
the dialect and impossible to translate – to characterize Arab mentality
and the striking examples you used to depict this term to the reader
were just hilarious.
A good sense of humor is an important prerequisite of self-criticism
and rationalism. Therefore, all fundamentalist movements of the world,
be they religious or ideological or just moralistic, are lacking in any
sense of humor. This lack of humor is the connecting link among them –
it is their common feature. Living in the Arab world I met many an aca-
demic with an enormous sense of humor and very rationalist views. But
there are only very few of them who dare to stand up for their opinions
xvii
in public, like you do. One unforgettable instance was your famous
dispute with Shaikh al-Qaradawi on religious essentials broadcast on
al-Jazeera a few years ago. And it is for these reasons, Sadik, that people
like you are so important for the Arab world, especially in these days.
Several times during my 30 years as a teacher at the Universities
of Tübingen and Hamburg, I chose publications of yours as required
reading for my classes. I remember at least one of my former students,
Astrid Raab, decided on the basis of these classes to write her M.A. the-
sis on certain aspects of your publications. It goes without saying that I
supported this decision. You may remember that she even visited you
in Damascus and was very impressed by your personality. Upon her
return, she was even more motivated and consequently got the highest
marks for her thesis.
This student stands as a very good example for the fact that read-
ing your critical books on Arab society and politics did not deter her
from the Near East – as it did not deter me in the late 1960s. On the
contrary, she became so fascinated by the contradictions and incon-
sistencies of these societies that she decided to help establish modern
educational institutions in the region. Now she is working toward
this end in Afghanistan, as she had done already several years before
in Yemen.
Sadik, already years ago during your first stay as visiting professor at
our Institute, the enthusiasm your lectures generated among students,
as well as guests, confirmed my recommendation to invite you and in
return – so I hope – validated your acceptance.
Today, I came back to the university for the first time after nearly two
years. You all know the reason for this long absence. But when I was
told that you, Sadik, are here again and that you will be given an honor-
ary doctorate by the University of Hamburg there was no question in
my mind that I would come, as this is the best and most distinguished
opportunity I could imagine. Thank you very much.
xviii
xix
xx
Ludwig Paul, born 1963 in Munich, did Iranian studies and Linguistics
at the universities of Bonn, Göttingen, and Tehran in 1985–1995. He
was Research fellow at the Van Leer Institute (Jerusalem) in 1995–
1996. He obtained his PhD in Iranian Studies at the University of
Göttingen in 1996. He was Assistant Professor there in the period
1996–2003 and Professor for Iranian studies at the University of
Hamburg from 2003.
xxi
xxii
Sadik J. Al-Azm1
Was it really possible for the Prophet Muhammad and his compan-
ions – the hermits of the night and the knights of the day, in God’s
service – to be also physicists, mathematicians, pioneers of space explo-
ration and makers of modern civilization?! For thirteen years in Mecca,
Allah’s Prophet taught the Muslims Islam and nothing but Islam, nei-
ther astronomy, nor mathematics, nor physics, nor philosophy; where
are those impostors who claim that Islam cannot be established unless
it becomes a pupil of the European sciences?7
It is interesting to note as well that Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri speak
in their internationally successful book Empire10 of “a new nomad horde”,
“a new race of barbarians that will arise” a “new positive barbarism”, and
then proceed to celebrate at the end of their book the postmodern “nomadic
revolutionary” of today, i.e. the jihadist of Al-Qaeda. At this point, I am
certainly tempted to see in all this a sort of a European intellectual nos-
talgia dreaming of substituting Nietzsche’s exhausted Blond Beast with a
new and more forceful Brown Beast.
Here, I should not miss a mention of that benign and popular vari-
ety of Occidentalism which helps to reinforce shaken identities, promote
some self-assertion, improve self-esteem, restore wounded amour propre
and advance a sense of empowerment after the model of “black is beauti-
ful”, “vive la diffirence” (may be spelled with an “a” also, à la Derrida, to
indicate the simultaneous deferral of that “difference” which may never
make a difference after all), “communalism is organic”, “identity politics
authentic”, “multiculturalism liberating” and so on.
Salman Rushdie excelled in the use of this sort of Occidentalism, par-
ticularly in his super novel, The Satanic Verses. This is what he had to say
about it all:
I must have known, my accusers say, that my use of the old devil-name
“Mahound,” a European demonization of “Muhammad,” would cause
offence. In fact, this is an instance in which de-contextualization has
created a complete reversal of meaning. A part of the relevant context
is on page 93 of the novel. “To turn insults into strengths, whigs, tories,
blacks all chose to wear with pride the names they were given in scorn;
likewise, our mountain-climbing, prophet-motivated solitary is to be
the medieval baby-frightener, the Devil’s synonym: Mahound.” Central
to the purposes of “The Satanic Verses” is the process of reclaiming
language from one’s opponents. Trotsky was Trotsky’s jailer’s name.
By taking it for his own, he symbolically conquered his captor and set
himself free. Something of the same spirit lay behind my use of the
name “Mahound.”11
Obviously Arabic is judged, here (and found very wanting), by the princi-
ples of a Cartesian conception of language – a conception implicitly based
on the doctrine of “clear and distinct ideas”, the primacy of quasi syllogis-
tic reasoning of the “I think therefore I am” type, the propositional nature
of all genuine saying and comprehending, and the full specifialibility and
discreteness of communicable meaning.
Now, if we shift to a postmodernist-deconstructionist approach to lan-
guage based on such principles as the disjunction of sign, signifier and
signified, the unending shiftiness of sense, the undecidability of meaning,
the paradoxes of incommensurability, William Empson’s Seven Types of
Ambiguity,13 the absurdities of self-reflexivity and so on, then would not
the Arabic described by Raban seem like the ideal language for the angst-
ridden Daseins of the postmodern condition?
In a comparable vein, Daryush Shayegan adopts and quotes
approvingly a similar view expressed by a most famous French Arabist
saying: “Referring to the spirit of the Arabic language, Jacques Berque
rightly observes, ‘the Arabic tongue, whose every word leads to God, has
been designed to conceal reality, not to grasp it.’”14 Again, in his Islam in
the World, Malise Ruthven reproduces this kind of judgment by quoting
approvingly Jonathan Raban’s description of the Arabic language and
by affirming that (a) “Arabic more than most other languages, eludes
translation, at least into the European languages” and (b) Arabic is “an
Again, would not Arabic seem like the ideal language in light of a para-
digm shift in the direction of, say, (a) Alfred North Whitehead’s critique of
all Aristotelian philosophies of substance, simple location and misplaced
concreteness in favor of reality as process or (b) of Henry Bergson’s attack
on Chosisme and his dismissal of things-in-themselves in favor of univer-
sal flux and a continually creative form of evolution or (c) Georgi Lukács
rejection of reification and its discreet particles in favor of a reality of
events, circumstances and processes.
If “In the beginning was the Word”, was that “word” a verb or a
noun? According to Ruthven, it was a verb for Arabic and a noun for the
European languages. Then, the question is: Which is closer to the spirit
of modernity, starting with the static noun or the active verb? At least
Faust’s answer is clear from his new translation of the first verse of the
Gospel of John: “In the beginning was the deed.” Not that substances,
nouns and things-in-themselves are absent from the “Arabic language
paradigm”, for just as God had brought His creatures to Adam to give
them their proper names in Genesis (2:19–20), the Koran also teaches that
Allah “taught Adam the names of all things; then placed them before the
angels, and said: Tell Me the names of these if ye are ight” (1:31).
It is interesting to note as well that a committed Muslim feminist
author, academic and activist like Leila Ahmed in the United States, not
only accepts the pejorative “Orientalistic” Raban-Ruthven account of
Arabic but proceeds to turn it into the primary virtue of the language
by appealing to and making a lot out of the contingent fact that Arabic is
10
written in consonants only, while the reader has to supply the vowels for
any reading to occur and for any meaning to emerge. This is how Ahmed
makes her case:
Moreover, a bias in favour of the heard word, the word given life and
meaning by the human voice, the human breath (nafas) is there, one
might say, in the very language itself. In Arabic (and also Hebrew)
script, no vowels are set down, only consonants. A set of consonants
can have several meanings and only acquires final, specific, fixed mean-
ing when given vocalized or silent utterance (unlike words in European
script, which have the appearance, anyway, of being fixed in meaning).
Until life is literally breathed into them, Arabic and Hebrew words
on the page have no particular meaning. Indeed, until then they are
not words but only potential words, a chaotic babble and possibility
of meanings. It is as if they hold within them the scripts of those lan-
guages, marshalling their sets of bare consonants across the page, vast
spaces in which meaning exist in condition of whirling potentiality until
the very moment that one is singled out and uttered. And so by their
very scripts, these two languages seem to announce the primacy of the
spoken, literally living word, and to announce that meaning can only
be here and now. Here and now in this body, this breath (nafas), this
self (nafs) encountering the word, giving it life. Word that, without that
encounter, has no life, no meaning.16
1) In favor of Arabic one may cite, here, Rousseau’s view in his “Essay
on the Origin of Language” to the effect that “figurative language was
the first to be born” while “proper meaning was discovered last”; all
11
of which should please Adonis and suit his Occidentalist thesis (not
to mention Ahmed’s auratic thesis), where such a figurative language
as Arabic would certainly come first, while such modern languages as
English and French, dedicated to “proper meaning” and literal com-
prehension, would come last.
12
looking up the Arabic word for “child” (tifl) in Hans Wehr’s famous
dictionary – “the treasure-house of Arabic roots” – and then reporting
on what he found there in the following manner:
The word is tifl, and it derives from the root tfl, meaning to intrude,
obtrude, impose (upon); to sponge, live at other people’s expense; to
arrive uninvited or at an inconvenient time, disturb, intrude; to be
obtrusive. The linguistic family includes the words for softness, potter’s
clay, parasites, sycophants, initial stages and dawn. No richer or more
sceptical definition of childhood has, as far as I know, ever been made.21
13
– form the finest natural example of the rhetorics of free play coupled
with an amazing capacity for limitless interpretative license, uncon-
trolled semantic slippage, unending textual vandalism and constantly
deferred meanings (and unmeanings),
– seem to act like the natural destabilizer of Derrida’s bête noire: “the
Western Metaphysics of Presence”.
14
15
“And so, The Zionist and American forces supporting Israel succeeded
in making the American President withdraw his commitment to the
phrase: The legitimate rights of the Palestinian people.”
16
allied to that president. Actually, Arab rulers claimed, then, in their pro-
paganda, that they were making progress in resolving the paradox of
American policy in the Middle East by helping the Americans see cor-
rectly where their long-term vital interests lie.
My claim, here, is that Said’s Orientalism meant also to provide a more
sophisticated explanation of the paradox of American policies in the Arab
world by appealing to French discourse theory in its Foucauldian version.
Accordingly, what comes to distort America’s vision in the area and deter-
mine the wrong-headed policies pursued there is that massive prison-
house of Orientalist discourse and language built over the centuries and
now fully absorbed by all Western (and particularly American) decision
makers, policy framers, administrators, rulers, diplomats, experts, spe-
cialists, academics, functionaries, military commanders, assistants, etc.,
dealing with that part of the world. Toward the end of his book, Said
explains himself in the following way:
The system of ideological fictions I have been calling Orientalism has
serious implications not only because it is intellectually discreditable.
For the United States today is heavily invested in the Middle East, more
heavily than anywhere else on earth: the Middle East experts who advise
policy makers are imbued with Orientalism almost to a person. Most of
this investment, appropriately enough, is built on foundations of sand,
since the experts instruct policy on the basis of such marketable abstrac-
tions as political elites, modernization and stability, most of which are
simply the old Orientalist stereotypes dressed up in policy jargon, and
most of which have been completely inadequate to describe what took
place recently in Lebanon or earlier in the Palestinian popular resistance
to Israel.24
The book certainly meant to dispel this distortion – by exposing the
formidable Orientalist apparatus underlying it – in the hope of improved
and more realistic American policies vis à vis the Arabs in general and the
Palestinians in particular.
II
17
very familiar with the genre, particularly the type that is so rampant in
the Arab world and that I invested much time and effort in combating.
My purpose in all that was always to minimize as much as possible the
harmful and delusionary effects of such theories and explanations even
on the considered views and judgments of otherwise very intelligent,
enlightened and thoughtful people.
I had always thought that the Arabs are the worst offenders around
when it comes to the addiction to conspiracy theories, particularly when
it comes to history, politics and international affairs, until one day Fred
Halliday of the London School of Economics corrected me by insisting
that that privilege belongs to Iran and the Iranians, by right.
This set me thinking about the role of Shi’ism, for example, in intensi-
fying this Iranian super addiction to conspiracy explanations, considering
that power was in fact usurped from Imamu ‘Ali and his heirs through a
series of dirty conspiracies.
It set me thinking as well about the role of theistic religion in general
and Islam in particular in perpetuating this affliction in the whole Middle
East and beyond, considering that to the religious mentality all expla-
nations are ultimately in terms of personalized will, intention, goal and
design – to my mind, a kind of higher order animism. Actually, one of the
attributes of God in the Koran is cunning (makr) and you cannot have a
good conspiracy without a lot of makr, on the one hand, while any seri-
ous exercise of the faculty of makr is bound to generate conspiracies of
all sorts, on the other. Perhaps, conspiracy theories are a humanized and
secularized version of ultimately religio-theistic ways of making sense of
history and of explaining the world.
This, in turn, brings to mind the old teleological argument for the exis-
tence of God in philosophical theology known also as the argument from
design, namely, that whenever and wherever a natural pattern seems to
emerge and/or form, there must be a conscious design behind it; and a
design always requires at least one designer. A similar situation would
naturally obtain even more forcefully when it comes to making sense out
of and explaining all the patterns that emerge, form and re-form in human
affairs, plans, goals, decisions and histories. Could it be as well, that con-
spiratorial explanations are a reversion to the causal enchantment of an
already thoroughly disenchanted modern world?
Of course, I am not saying that in today’s Middle East, for example,
you have to be religious and/or believe in gods and arguments from
18
19
20
The most recent of the versions of September 11, and the most eccentric,
is that it was all the product of an internal terrorist plot (CIA, funda-
mentalist extreme right, etc.). A thesis that appeared when doubt was
cast on the air attack on the Pentagon and, by extension, the attack on
the Twin Towers (in Thierry Meyssan’s 9/11: The Big Lie). Above and
beyond the truth of the matter, of which we shall perhaps never have
any knowledge, what remains of this thesis is, once again, that the dom-
inant power is the instigator of everything, including effects of subver-
sion and violence, which are of the order of trompe-l’oeil. The worst of
this is that it is again we who perpetrated it. This, admittedly, brings no
great glory to our democratic values, but it is still better than conceding
to obscure jihadists the power to inflict such a defeat on us. If it were
21
to turn out that such a mystification were possible, if the event were
entirely faked up, then clearly it would no longer have any symbolic
significance (if the Twin Towers were blown up from the inside – the
crash not being sufficient to make them collapse – it would be very diffi-
cult to say they had committed suicide!). This would merely be a politi-
cal conspiracy. And yet, even if all this were the doing of some clique of
extremists or military men, it would still be the sign (as in the Oklahoma
bombing) of a self-destructive internal violence, of a society’s obscure
predisposition to contribute to its own doom.25
22
23
1) To what extent does the novel serve the imperialist West by stirring
up and nourishing Farsi-Arab enmity, particularly during the years of
the Iraq-Iran war.
3) Exposing the Orientalist nature and drift of the novel in support of the
ideology of the West and in opposition to the ideologies of national
liberation. Here, Hadi accuses Rushdie of following in the footsteps
of the Jesuit Orientalist at the Université St. Joseph in Beirut, Henri
Lamens.
5) Identifying those elements and forces that made Rushdie carry out
that kind of work.
24
25
26
For him, it was self-evident that The Satanic Verses is a deliberate prod-
uct of a conspiracy traceable back to Tehran the center of the expanding
Shi’i International. According to Shaker’s elaboration of the plot, The
Satanic Verses becomes at one and the same time a coded “ode of praise
and glorification of Imam Khomeini”, in spite of all appearances to the
contrary and “a manifest ode of biting satire and bitter defamation”
(hija’), of all the traditional enemies of the Imam and of the Shi’i heresy,
particularly ‘Aisha the most beloved and preferred wife of the Prophet.
As for the Imam’s death sentence against Rushdie and the publishers of
the novel, it was no more than a cunning ruse to achieve the following
goals:
1) Introducing the beliefs of the Shi’i Ghurabi sect to the whole world,
while at the same time denigrating the true Islam of the sunna. For,
had Khomeini been serious about the death sentence, he would have
had Rushdie killed first and then declared the fatwa to the world – but
he acted in exactly the opposite manner in order to give Rushdie the
chance to hide and escape.
2) Raising the sales of the novel from 50.000 copies in five months to
100.000 copies in a few days – and maybe the number will have risen
to half a million, by now.
5) Arousing the curiosity of Muslims all over the world about the novel,
who, otherwise, would not have paid any attention to it without the
so-called fatwa, as well as stirring some feelings of pity and sympathy
among Muslims for “this poor writer hounded to death by a suppos-
edly Muslim state”.
27
In the end, my point is, first, that although the course of the history of the
modern Middle East is indubitably full of conspiracies, the course itself is
not either a conspiracy or the product of a conspiracy; and, second, that
although the field of Orientalism is unquestionably full of all kinds of real
and imagined conspiracies, the field itself is neither a conspiracy nor the
product of a conspiracy.
28
Lorenzo Casini
INTRODUCTION
29
that in different moments of the first half of the twentieth century have
brought Arab writers to represent Europe as the Other with respect to
their imagined self.
After presenting the theoretical foundations of this study, two major
narrative texts written by Egyptian authors and published respectively
in 1907 and 1933: the maqama by Muhammad al-Muwailyhi Hadith ‘Isa
Ibn Hisham (‘Isa Ibn Hisham’s Tale) and a renowned novel by Tawfiq al-
Hakim: ‘Awdat al-Ruh (The Return of the Spirit) are considered.
The analysis of al-Muwailyhi’s maqama is aimed at revealing the role
played by the Arab appropriation and elaboration of European moder-
nity in the formative process of modern Arab identity. The period consid-
ered is that of the transition from Islamic reformism to modernist thought
(Hourani, 1983, ch. 6–7), when the new ideals of modern nationalism
were taking root in Egypt and in other Arab societies, but the traditional
Islamic world view was still exerting an important appeal on the Arab
intellectual élite of the age. After having considered the situation at the
beginning of the century, I analyze the important transformations that
occurred in the Egyptian cultural context of the 1930s. Through the analy-
sis of ‘Awdat al-Ruh, I attempt to show how the most radical attacks on
“Western civilisation” originated in Egypt in continuity with the roman-
tic and elitist side of Egyptian territorial nationalism, in order to defend
the class interests of the Egyptian élite from the possible democratic and
socialist developments of the liberal ideals that had dominated during
the 1920s.
30
31
ISLAMIC REFORMISM
32
33
of the ‘alim, on the other it binds the function of the journalist to the
prescriptions of the shari‘a. Even Hadith ‘Isa Ibn Hisham (serialized in
a newspaper) and its author (a journalist) are therefore bound to the
mission of Islamic reform: that of defining the role of the modern ‘alim
and fulfilling its functions. This “mission” finds its literary expression
in the specific roles carried out by the narrator and the protagonist of
al-Muwaylihi’s maqama.
Most of the episodes that in 1907 were to form Hadith ‘Isa Ibn Hisham
had been serialized in the newspaper Misbah al-Sharq between 1898
and 1900 with the title Fatrah min al-Zaman (A Period of Time), with the
declared intent to compare contemporary Egyptian society with that of
the first decades of the century. With this purpose in mind, the author
adopted as his hero the character of Ahmad Pasha al-Manikali, minister
of war during the reign of Muhammad ‘Ali, who in the first episode is
made to come back to life from his tomb in a Cairo cemetery, where he
immediately meets the narrator (‘Isa Ibn Hisham).
The first part of Hadith ‘Isa Ibn Hisham shows the impossibility for
the Pasha of understanding the rules of the new society by resorting
to the conceptions and interpretative categories of his own time. In this
part, the narrator becomes the Pasha’s imam (spiritual guide). His func-
tion is not only that of helping the Pasha to understand the rules of the
new society but also of giving him the instruments to discern what is
good and in agreement with the true spirit of the Islamic revelation and
what, instead, has to be condemned as corrupt and in contradiction with
the tenets of Islam.
Following the teachings of the narrator, the character of the Pasha
undergoes a gradual change that leads him to become a pious and
virtuous Muslim. After this transformation, the hero and the narrator
proceed together on the right path (al-sirat al-mustaqim), in the pursuit
of those norms of behaviur (mu‘amalat) that in the modern world should
guide the life of every Muslim. To this purpose, they decide to make con-
tact with every aspect of modern Egyptian society and to judge it through
a rational interpretation based on the sources of Islamic shari‘a.
The gradual change of the Pasha in the first part of the text is one of
the distinctive features of al-Muwaylihi’s maqama and is highly indicative
of the moral and ideological principles that inform it. The transforma-
tion of the characters as a result of the narrative events is a feature of the
new genre of the novel and cannot be found in the classical maqama. But
34
the transformation of the Pasha in Hadith ‘Isa Ibn Hisham is quite differ-
ent from that experienced by the characters of the novel, as it brings the
Pasha to share the narrator’s focalization with whom al-Muwaylihi identi-
fies. The narrative result of this transformation is that the Pasha becomes
a second voice at the disposal of the writer/‘alim to express his opinions
on social and religious reform.
T H E S E M A NT I C OP E NI NG OF T H E TEX T
In Hadith ‘Isa Ibn Hisham, Egyptian cultural identity is identified with “the
authentic spirit” of Islam. In this sense it is an “absent self”, because this
spirit, according to the author, cannot be found in modern Egyptian soci-
ety, neither among the Europeanized élite nor the traditional “ulama”. But
it is also “a self in formation”, because the function of the text is that of
contributing to the manifestation of the spirit of Islam through a social
criticism that assumes as its main source the Islamic shari‘a and as its
operative tool the Islamic category of ijtihad. According to this view, the
concept of Other can refer to all that contradicts the spirit of revelation as
conceived by Islamic reformism but first of all to Europeans who do not
belong to the Islamic community and who are referred to with the generic
name of “foreigners”.
The binary opposition “reformed Islam” vs. the West, which consti-
tutes one of the pillars of the strategy of containment of Hadith ‘Isa Ibn
Hisham, reveals limits and contradictions throughout the text that cannot
be overcome. These contradictions are revealed in particular by the inca-
pacity of the language of Islamic tradition to describe the ideas and insti-
tutions appropriated from Europe and the impossibility of the author to
determine the limits of ijtihad, that is, to establish a clear divide between
the aspects of modernity that can be considered in harmony with the
“authentic spirit of Islam” and those that contradict it.
The belief that the cognitive categories of Islam can “contain” moder-
nity implies that they can describe modern ideas and institutions. The
first chapters of Hadith ‘Isa Ibn Hisham demonstrate quite the contrary,
as the Pasha cannot understand ‘Isa though they speak the same lan-
guage. The reason for the two characters’ inability to communicate is that
in the period between the death of the Pasha and his resurrection, the
Arabic heteroglossia had been permeated by concepts and ideas that can-
not be translated with reference to the traditional Islamic world view. The
35
attempt of the narrator to explain these ideas to the Pasha in the language
of tradition leads to a series of endless and hilarious misunderstandings.
Among them, the most emblematic for the present study are those related
to the new judiciary system.
After being arrested for having beaten a donkeyman who was cheating
him, the Pasha is brought to the office of the public prosecutor (niyaba).
‘Isa explains to the Pasha what this office is and how it works:
What is most interesting in this passage, for the present study, is the
impossibility of translating the idea of social body (al-hay’a al-ijtima‘iyya)
with the traditional concept of umma. As the political organization of
the umma is based on Islamic revelation, the judicial authority is not a
people’s delegate but responds directly to the Islamic shari‘a conceived
of as an expression of the divine will. ‘Isa, as an Egyptian citizen living at
the end of the nineteenth century cannot himself realize the distance that
separates the new institutions from the traditional ones, his world view
from that of the Pasha.
As has been observed, another expression of the contradictions
implicit in the strategy of containment of Hadith ‘Isa Ibn Hisham is the
36
You, however, esteemed shaykh, with your broad learning, your pro-
found study of the various aspects of knowledge, and your compre-
hension of the main features of European scholarship, you are clearly
quite exceptional! However, with all that said, I still would not wish all
Islamic “ulama” to have such a broad-based learning as yours. I would
not wish to see such subjects distract their attention from shari‘a schol-
arship and watch them become confused and bewildered. Few people
will force themselves to steer a middle course in things, to maintain a
balance in their pursuits, and stop at the appropriate limits (. . .). “Thus
God misleads on the basis of learning.”
37
A recent study by Jeff Shalan (2002) has examined the ideology of the
Egyptian novels published in the years of the apogee of Egyptian cultural
38
39
40
Our languages have terms only for the material reality. We cannot
imagine the feelings that have made of all these people a single per-
son capable of bearing on his shoulders huge stones for the length of
twenty years. He was smiling, cheerful, and friendly, happy to suffer in
the name of his idol (al-ma‘bud: the worshipped)
This is the other difference between them and us: our workers, when
they suffer together, let grow among them the seeds of revolution, the
discontent for what they suffer, disobedience. Their peasants, when
they suffer together, feel a secret satisfaction, and the pleasure for the
unity in sufferings. What a wonderful industrial people for the day of
tomorrow!!
In this last passage, in addition to the binary oppositions that have already
been observed (heart vs. individualism, intuition vs. rational knowledge)
a new one emerges, which is relative to the different attitudes of the
Egyptian peasants and the European workers toward work and the rul-
ing class. If the union of the former testifies to the unity of the whole
nation and its identification in the leader (al-ma‘bud), the unity of the lat-
ter is the potentially subversive one of modern trade unionism. The dif-
ferent attitude of the Egyptian peasants is traced back to their symbiosis
with the Egyptian environment and, thus, to the concept of environmental
determinism.
As highlighted by Table 1 below, the formal dichotomy that contrasts
two different civilizations hides in reality two competing political options
both supported by cultural orientations and ideologies originated in
modern Europe. The concept of Europe is associated with the democratic
41
CONCLUSIONS
The concept of occidentalism that has been elaborated in this paper and
applied to the analysis of two masterpieces of modern Arabic literature
neither refers to a “dehumanising” representation of the West nor to
any particular image of it. It rather describes the tendency, widespread
in modern Arabic thought and literature, to represent the self through
fictitous oppositions to an imagined Western “Other.” It is a clearly dis-
tinguished phenomenon from Arab conspiracism but, as the latter, can be
traced back to a condition of powerlessness with respect to the policies
carried out by the European countries and the United States. In spite of its
projection outside the borders of the Arab world, the literary construction
of the Other, like conspiracism, has played its primary role as a tool in the
domestic politics of the Arab societies where the competition for political
and cultural hegemony has taken place also through the literary construc-
tion of rival images of the West.
42
REFERENCES
Primary Sources
al-Hakim, T. (1988a): ‘Awdat al-Ruh (2 vol.). Cairo: Misr li-l Tiba‘a.
al-Muwaylihi, M. (1992a): Hadith ‘Isa Ibn Hisham aw fatra min al-zaman (1907).
Tunis: Dar al-Janub li-l nashr.
al-Muwaylihi, M. (1992b): A Period of Time/part two (English translation of Hadith
‘Isa Ibn Hisham by Roger Allen). Reading: Garnet Press, pp. 99–379.
Secondary Sources
Al-Azm, S.J. (1981): “Orientalism and Orientalism-in-Reverse”, Khamsin 8.
London: Ithaca, pp. 5–27.
Al-Azm, S.J. (2004): “Time Out of Joint”, Boston Review, October-November, on
line edition: www.bostonreview.net.
Bakhtin, M. (1981): The Dialogic Imagination. Austin: University of Texas Press.
Casini, L. (2008): “Beyond Occidentalism: Europe and the Self in Present
Day Arabic Narrative Discourse”, EUI Working Papers, RSCAS 2008/30,
Mediterranean Programme Series, available online at http://cadmus.eui.eu/
dspace/bitstream/1814/9367/1/RSCAS 2008 30.pdf.
El-Enany, R. (2006): Arab Representations of the Occident. East-West Encounters in
Arabic Fiction. London and New York: Routledge.
Gershoni, I.; Jankowski, J.P. (1986): Egypt, Islam and the Arabs: the Search for Egyptian
Nationhood (1900–1930). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Gershoni, I.; Jankowski, J.P. (1995): Redefining the Egyptian Nation, -1930–1945.
Cambrige: Cambridge University Press.
Hafez, S. (1993): The Genesis of Arabic Narrative Discourse. London: Saqi Books.
Hourani, A. (1983): The Arabic Thought in the Liberal Age. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Jameson, F. (1981): The Political Unconscious: Narrative as a Socially Symbolic Act.
London: Methuen.
Jenkins, R. (2002): “Different Societies? Different Cultures? What are Human
Collectivities?”, in M. Sinša, H. Mark (eds) Making Sense of Collectivity. London:
Pluto Press.
Mondal, A.A. (2000): Nationalism, Literature and Ideology in Colonial India and
Occupied Egypt. Ph.D. Thesis, SOAS – University of London. Published in 2003
as Nationalism and Post Colonial Identity: Culture and Ideology in India and Egypt.
London and New York: Routledge.
Shalan, J. (2002): “Writing the Nation: the Emergence of Egypt in the Modern
Arabic Novel”, Journal of Arabic Literature. Leiden: E.J. Brill, vol. 43, no. 3,
pp. 211–247.
Siegerist, M. (2009): Wrestling With The West: Consistency and Change in the
Representation of the United States in the Chinese Communist Party Newspaper
43
44
INTRODUCTION
The controversy between Edward Said and Bernard Lewis on the question
of Orientalism is not only a matter of scholarship but also involves
partisanship and the advocacy of certain causes. Scholarship, however,
has been deployed for their respective purposes. In this article, I would
like to look at the controversy between Said and Lewis on the question
of Orientalism, both in terms of scholarship and scholarly values, as well
as the broader issues which are related to, and which frame and pro-
vide the context, for the debates. I will approach the question by engag-
ing in a close reading of two major texts, namely Said’s Orientalism and
Lewis’s Islam and the West, apart from consulting other secondary sources
that threw light on the debate. My contention is that the controversy be
best looked at not in terms of a purely scholarly debate between scholars
working “in the same field” but rather in terms of a clash of perspectives
on an issue which lends itself to both scholarly analysis and popular advo-
cacy, in which the scholarly resources of various disciplines are called
into play, and in which even the “rules of the game” or “the groundrules
of discourse” are themselves contested. This contestation takes several
forms, such as the legitimacy of certain epistemological positions, the rel-
evance of disciplinary tools and resources, and the relationship between
politics and knowledge, scholarship, and advocacy. In other words,
I would like to argue that the controversy between Said and Lewis be
looked at in terms of a clash of paradigms, rather than a straightforward
scholarly dispute in the spirit and mode of modern critical scholarship, or
on the other extreme, a vulgar political controversy couched in scholarly
45
46
What do Said and Lewis mean by the term “Orientalism”? An answer to this
question is important in helping us understand the controversy between
them on the subject of Orientalism. In the Introduction of his Orientalism,
Said sets out to define what he means by the term “Orientalism” (Said, 2003,
pp. 2–3). Here he presents 3 different meanings of the word “Orientalism”;
Anyone who teaches, writes about, or researches the Orient – and this
applies whether the person is an anthropologist, sociologist, histo-
rian, or philologist – either in its specific or its general aspects, is an
Orientalist, and what he or she does is Orientalism. (p. 2)
47
Finally, after having stated what he meant by the term, Said offers his take
on what Orientalism consists of, or refers to:
48
Another charge levelled against the Orientalists is that of bias against the
peoples they study, even of a built-in hostility to them. No one would
deny that scholars, like other human beings, are liable to some kind of
bias, more often for, rather than against, the subject of their study. The
significant difference is between those who recognise their bias and try
to correct it and those who give it free rein . . .
49
50
But given the above scenario on Lewis and Said, and the question of the
relationship between scholarship, academic objectivity, ideology, parti-
sanship and advocacy, what are we to make of the role of scholarship
in the assessment of an “academic subject”? Perhaps what this episode
illustrates is the nature of the Humanities, as distinct from the sciences,
in which the question of objectivity can only be approached as an ideal
(or perhaps even not) but can never be realized. This does not, however,
detract from the value of the Humanities, because at least it makes clear
in explicit, articulated, intellectual forms the points that are at issue and
that bewitches the human imagination.
51
into a chapter with the same title, which later appeared as Chapter 6
in Lewis’s (1993) Islam and the West. In response to Lewis’s criticisms in
that chapter, Said devoted a part of his 1994 Afterword to a rebuttal of
Lewis. What were the issues debated in the exchange between Edward
Said and Bernard Lewis? In this section, I will examine some of the
salient issues involved in the debate between Said and Lewis, consid-
ered as archetypal representatives who epitomized two major diamet-
rically opposed positions taken on the question of Orientalism. I will
examine them in terms of two major categories, i.e. (a) the epistemolog-
ical and (b) the methodological. In terms of epistemology, I believe the
divide that separates them is the division between modernist and post-
modernist epistemology (Hart 2004; Best and Kellner 1997), with Said
taking the postmodernist stance. In terms of methodology, again we
see the influence of epistemology and Said’s insistence on the relevance
of the humanities, literature, and the social sciences in the assessment
of Orientalism, as opposed to Lewis’s more conservative stance remi-
niscent of the Orientalist scholar whose emphasis is on history, phi-
lology, and Oriental languages. In other words, the rhetorical strategy
deployed by each party is to claim the relevance of their own disciplin-
ary backgrounds in making authoritative claims on Orientalism, with
Lewis insisting on “academic specialisation” in the classical Orientalist
fashion, while Said argues for a more interdisciplinary approach in
order to support some of his more controversial claims regarding the
interplay between knowledge and power.
Perhaps one way of looking at the difference between Said and Lewis
is the difference between their underlying epistemologies which influ-
enced their basic outlook, method of approach, historiography, etc.
(Rosenau 1992). To put it simply, Lewis’s epistemology is basically mod-
ernist, while Said’s is postmodernist. Said’s postmodernist approach is
evidenced by his scattered references to Foucault and other postmod-
ernist writers, even sometimes acknowledging their influence on him.
Lewis’s “conservative” modernist approach and methodology, on the
other hand, is seen in his conservative attitude toward methodology,
rationality, and objectivity – as least as ideals to be pursued, even though
they might not be achieved in practice.
52
The success of this book [Orientalism] and the ideas or, to be more pre-
cise, the attitudes that it expresses . . . requires some explanation. One
reason is certainly its anti-Westernism. . . . Similarly, the book appeals by
its use of the ideas and still more of the language of currently fashion-
able literary, philosophical and political theories.
53
There are two things to note in the above comment made by Lewis on
Said’s approach in Orientalism. The first is his allusion to Said’s alleged
relativism (Chuaquai 2002) in Lewis’s characterization of “the currently
fashionable epistemological view of truth” – which is again associated
with postmodernism. The second concerns the methodology that issues
out of such an epistemology, in which appeals to “literary or social theo-
ries . . . compensate for lack of linguistic or historical knowledge.” The
suggestion made by Lewis concerning Said’s approach is clear: that it
issues out of the currently fashionable postmodernist ideas, which accord-
ing to Lewis is unsound, and is not a mark of true scholarship. But these
54
remarks only serve to further underscore the point made earlier about the
modernist-postmodernist divide in Lewis and Said, respectively.
55
did, for deploying the social sciences, which, according to Lewis, was
done in order to compensate one’s lack of knowledge in philology and
Oriental languages, replacing one’s analysis instead with dubious con-
cepts drawn from contemporary social science. The fact of the matter is
that bringing in the social sciences does not in itself load the dice in favor
of the anti-Orientalist. On the other hand, one’s Orientalist attitude can
still be sustained, even though one has moved from being a conservative
Orientalist using traditional Orientalist methods to being more receptive
of the social sciences. In fact one of Said’s criticism of H.A.R. Gibb rests
on this very point. When Gibb talked about the shift from Orientalism to
Area Studies, in which the social sciences then become relevant,4 none of
his previous Orientalist stance and attitude changed, with the result that
the social sciences has now become an additional tool for the indictment
of the Orient. But in Said’s hands, an appeal to the social sciences became
instead a strategy for defending the Orient against the Orientalists. So
in other words, bringing in the social sciences to the study of the Orient
does not in itself render unfair advantage to the anti-Orientalist or to
the Orientalist for that matter. Thus Lewis’ contention, or perhaps fear,
that invoking the social sciences would facilitate a critique of traditional
Orientalism is itself unfounded and unwarranted.
The more important question to ask perhaps is the question of whether
the social sciences could in fact contribute toward an understanding of
the Orient? And I think here that the answer is a resounding “Yes!” Here
one can think of the works of anthropologists such as Clifford Geertz on
Indonesia and North Africa, and Bernard Cohn (1996) on India, to see
how they could contribute immensely to an understanding of the East.
It could also help to overcome the “textual attitude” syndrome that Said
talked about, which prefers to reduce reality to the written word, as how
a philologist or a linguist would or might.
56
57
therefore, appear to be any terrible need for Said to be trained in the field.
Having satisfied ourselves that the so-called “methodological deficiency”
attributed to Said is not really serious, let us now look at Said’s more posi-
tive construction and try to see the novelty which Said brought to bear
in the study of Orientalism. There are basically two novelties which Said
introduced in his study of Orientalism. The first is the multi-disciplinary
approach which he adopted, thus enriching the study by bringing in the
resources provided by the different disciplines, in order to bear on the
subject (Bayoumi and Rubin 2000). This results in a sort of disciplinary
migration or hybridization. In fact, sociologists who have investigated the
phenomena of innovation, pointed out to this factor as a cause of inno-
vation. Thus it enhances, extends, and enriches the field of study, rather
than create gross inaccuracies or distortions. The second novelty is not
quite unrelated to the first but nevertheless requires separate mention.
It is Said’s creative use of his knowledge of literature and literary analy-
sis that is brought to bear on the question of Orientalism. Thus he was
able to scrutinize motives and hidden plots and meanings in the writings
of Orientalists, the same way he dissects and elicits meanings out of his
study of novels and other forms of literary works.
So all considered, I think the objection to Said’s critique of Orientalism
made on methodological grounds cannot be sustained and can be justifi-
ably rejected.
58
59
60
is ethically based and informed, not by seeking to commit the very sins of
those they condemn.
61
Orientalism on Colonialism. But Said fudges the issue when he falls back
on a weaker thesis, i.e. that there existed parallels between Orientalism
and Colonialism.
T H E R E DE MP T I V E S I D E TO S AI D’S WRITIN G
62
To quote Said (2003, p. 28), “If this stimulates a new kind of dealing with
the Orient, indeed if it eliminates the ‘Orient’ and ‘Occident’ altogether,
then we shall have advanced a little in the process of what Raymond
Williams has called the ‘unlearning’ of ‘the inherent dominative mode’.”
In a passage clearly directed at his critics, and those who took him
to be a defender of the Orient, Islam, and Arab causes, Said caustically
remarked (2003, p. 331):
I have no doubt that this was made possible because I traversed the
imperial East-West divide, entered into the life of the West, and yet
retained some organic connection with the place from which I origi-
nally came. I would repeat that this is very much a procedure of cross-
ing, rather than maintaining, barriers; I believe Orientalism as a book
shows it, especially at moments when I speak of humanistic study as
seeking ideally to go beyond coercive limitations on thought toward a
non-dominative, and non-essentialist type of learning.
63
• The question of how postcolonial states should deal with their own
colonial heritage, involving colonial knowledge of themselves, yet
maintaining their own sense of cultural identity and authenticity.
Part of the reason for the popularity and widespread reception of Said’s
Orientalism is the context in which the book came into publication.
After its first publication in 1978, there occurred the so-called “Islamic
Revolution” in Iran in 1979, in which Islam was again pitted against the
West, i.e. against America. The collapse of the Berlin Wall in 1989, and the
64
disintegration of the Soviet Union and the Eastern bloc, ushered in the
Post-Cold War period, in which Islam was set up as the “new enemy” for
the modern, liberal Western democracies in place of Communism. And
finally with 11 September 2001 and its political and military aftermath
involving Afghanistan, Iraq, and their invaders, namely, America and
Britain, the stage is set for an Islam–West dichotomy, rivalry, and enmity,
in the manner of the previous Cold War. Thus debates such as the one on
Orientalism, in this new geopolitical and geocultural context, assumes
the dimension and proportion of an “ideological warfare”, in which the
lines between politics, ideology, scholarship, and academic objectivity
becomes blurred. In fact this is nothing strange when we think of how
scientists were brought into the service of the conflicting nation-states in
the First and Second World Wars, thus debunking the myth of scientific
universalism and internationalism so passionately argued for by Robert
K. Merton, himself an American sociologist in favor of an open and free
liberal-democratic society a la America.
Third World Islamic countries are caught in a dilemma on this issue
because support of an anti-Orientalist position might eventually set
them against the military might of America, whilst accepting the Orientalist
position would mean a travesty of their own sense of national sovereignty
and cultural identity, with its implied acceptance of Colonialism, espe-
cially in the wake of Said’s critique. The only way out perhaps is to see the
debate in more nuanced terms, not in a simple dichotomy which leads to
the above-mentioned dilemma.
Positions taken on the issue of Orientalism certainly have broader
implications and bear on related issues such as Colonialism, Modernism,
and East–West relations. I have chosen to focus on the two major figures
in the debate on Orientalism, namely, Edward Said and Bernard Lewis
because it is in them that we find the most detailed articulation and
cogent argumentation of the issues involved concerning Orientalism.
Furthermore, their views have been influential on others concerned
with the same subject. Other lesser debates serve as footnotes to the
Said–Lewis encounter. Because of their importance, in terms of implica-
tions and influence, it is all the more important not to misunderstand or
misrepresent them, especially the stance taken by Edward Said. Said’s
Orientalism is a sophisticated and nuanced discussion of Orientalism and
not a simplistic and unqualified thesis that condemned the Colonial West
for conjuring up a distorted image of the East through their scholarship,
65
66
REFERENCES
Akhavi, S. (2003): “Islam and the West in World History”, Third World Quarterly,
vol. 24, no. 3, pp. 545–562.
Al-Attas, S.M.N. (1993 [1978]): Islam and Secularism. Kuala Lumpur: International
Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilization.
Al-‘Azim, S.J. (1981): “Orientalism and Orientalism in Reverse”, Khamsin, vol. 8,
pp. 5–26.
Andersen, H. (2001): On Kuhn. Belmont, California: Wadsworth.
Archer, M. (1996): Culture and Agency. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Bayoumi, M.; Rubin, A. (eds). (2000): The Edward Said Reader. New York: Vintage.
Best, S.; Kellner, D. (1997): The Postmodern Turn. New York: Guilford Press.
Chuaqui, R. (2002): “Orientalism, Anti-Orientalism, Relativism“, Nepantla: Views
from South, vol. 3, no. 2, pp. 373–390.
Cohn, B.S. (1996): Colonialism and Its Forms of Knowledge. Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press.
67
Fakhry, M. (2004 [1983, 1970]): A History of Islamic Philosophy. New York: Columbia
University Press.
Foucault, M. (2002 [1972]): The Archeology of Knowledge. London: Routledge
Classics.
Gellner, E. (1992): Postmodernism, Reason and Religion. London and New York:
Routledge.
Hall, C. (2004): “Remembering Edward Said (1935–2003)”, History Workshop
Journal Issue, vol. 57, pp. 235–243.
Hart, K. (2004): Postmodernism: A Beginner’s Guide. Oxford: Oneworld -Publications.
Hitchens, C. (2003): “Where the Twain Should Have Met“, The Atlantic Monthly,
no. 292, pp. 153–159.
Hussein, A.A. (2002): Edward Said: Criticism and Society. London: Verso.
Kuhn, T. (1970 [1962]): The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press.
Laudan, L. (1984): Science and Values. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Lewis, B. (1993): Islam and the West. New York: Oxford University Press.
Lewis, B. (2003): The Crisis of Islam: Holy War and Unholy Terror. London: Weidenfeld
and Nicolson.
Little, D.P. (1979): “Three Arab Critiques of Orientalism“, The Muslim World, vol. 69,
no. 2, pp. 110–131.
Needham, J. (1954): Science and Civilisation in China. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Rose, J. (2004): “Edward Said“, History Workshop Journal Issue, vol. 57, pp. 244–246.
Rosenau, P.M. (1992): Post-Modernism and the Social Sciences: Insights, Inroads, and
Intrusions. Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP.
Said, E. (2003 [1978]): Orientalism. New York: Vintage Books.
Said, E.; Lewis, B. (1982): “Orientalism: An Exchange“, New York Review of Books,
12 August 1982.
Spivak, G. (2005): “Thinking about Edward Said: Pages from a Memoir“, Critical
Inquiry, vol. 31, pp. 519–525.
Winstedt, R. (1961): The Malays: A Cultural History. Singapore: George Brash.
Zakariyya, F. (2005): Myth and Reality in the Contemporary Islamist Movement. London:
Pluto Press. Translated with an Introduction and Bibliography by Ibrahim M.
Abu-Rabi’.
68
AN ORIENTALIST MYTHOLOGY OF
SECRET SOCIETIES
Robert Irwin
71
officials, policemen, and spies were particularly obsessed with the threat
posed to the Austro-Hungarian Empire by Masons, Carbonari, Illuminati,
and similar secretive and subversive organisations. Those obsessions
were fuelled by a heated and somewhat imaginative literature, produced
by exiles from the French Revolution that sought to find the origins of
the Revolution in a Masonic conspiracy. The most important and influ-
ential work here was the Abbé Barruel’s Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire
du Jacobinisme published 10 years after the outbreak of the revolution
(Barruel, 1797; c.f. Cohn, 1967, pp. 30–6; Roberts, 1972, pp. 199–219).
Everybody read Barruel. Apprehensions of conspiracies and riots found
justification in the events of 1848, the Year of Revolutions, when, for a
moment, thrones across Europe tottered. Such was the broad histori-
cal background to the beginnings of a sustained tradition of academic
Orientalism in France, Germany, Russia, and elsewhere.
A word now about the nature of Orientalism in the first decades of the
nineteenth century. The first thing to note is that there were very few peo-
ple indeed working in the fields of Arabic and Islamic studies. None of
the important figures was British, after the radical Whig, Sir William Jones
abandoned his early interest in Persian and Arabic in favour of Sanskrit.
Prior to Silvestre de Sacy’s elevation to a chair at the Ecole des langues ori-
entales vivantes in Paris, most Arabists and Persianists were perforce self-
taught, and interested amateurs continued to predominate throughout
the nineteenth century. Aristocrats and clergymen played a dispropor-
tionately large role in the development of Oriental studies. In the 1820s,
the Perpetual President of the Societé Asiatique was the Duc d’Orleans;
two barons were its vice presidents, and various dukes, marquises,
counts, and barons sat on its council (Nouveau, 1829, pp. 59–60). The Duc
de Blacas, though only an ordinary member, was one of the greatest col-
lectors of Islamic art in the century (Vernoit, 2000, pp. 1, 23). The British
Royal Asiatic Society was, like the Societé Asiatique, founded in 1823, and
in the course of the nineteenth century its members included the Duke of
Wellington, the Earl of Liverpool, the Earl of Aberdeen, the Marquess of
Salisbury and other members of the aristocracy far too numerous to list
here – as well as quite a few Indian princes (Beckingham, 1979, pp. 4–5).
Salons had as large a role as libraries in the diffusion of Orientalist learn-
ing, and in Paris, such grand scholars as Silvestre de Sacy, Julius Mohl,
and Ernest Renan were the successive habitués and even the hosts of
such salons. Orientalism was a field that was monopolized by Christian
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73
against the French. In 1807, he returned from the East and was made a
privy counsellor. Subsequently he worked in the civil administration
where he had sufficient leisure to publish an intimidating amount of
stuff. In 1835, he inherited estates in Styria and took the title Freiherr von
Hammer-Purgstall. The Geschichte des Osmanischen Reiches (2nd ed., 10
vols., pp. 1827–35) is his main work, and when I was a student in the
1960s it was still on the SOAS reading lists (but those were the days when
English undergraduates might be expected to know some language other
than their own). Von Hammer also wrote and translated a vast amount of
material, and in 1809 he founded the Fundgruben des Orients, the first ever
Orientalist periodical, of which he was the major contributor. Though
prolific, von Hammer was wild and careless. His translations were exces-
sively free, and he was extensively criticized for scholarly inaccuracy.
Friedrich Christian Diez wrote a great fat book, Unfug und Betrug, in order
to expose von Hammer’s numerous errors, and the meticulous Fleischer
published a detailed criticism of von Hammer’s misreadings of al-Zam-
khshari’s Qur’an commentary (The Golden Necklace), the details of which
do not concern us here. Von Hammer died in 1856 (Fück, 1955, pp. 158–
66; Mangold, 2004, pp. 47–54, 77–80, 82–8; Reichl, 1973).
Unlike, say, the Orientalists of the seventeenth century (Pococke,
Erpenius, and Golius among them), both Silvestre de Sacy and von
Hammer were obsessively interested in heterodox Islam, though both
tended to view it as if from a Sunni perspective, perceiving Shi‘ism as a
breakaway from mainstream Sunni Islam and regularly judging Shi‘ism
in terms of the way it deviated from the alleged norms of Sunnism. De
Sacy wrote about both the Druzes and the Assassins as conspiratorial
cults and as revolutionary movements that used the trappings of reli-
gion to disguise political ambition. From his youth onwards, the Druze
doctrines and organisation were his first and chief enthusiasm. In part,
the reason was chronological. It just happened that some Druze doctrinal
manuscripts in the Royal Library were among the first texts to fall under
his gaze, and it was on these manuscripts that he cut his philological teeth.
However, when one reads the Exposé de la religions des Druzes, which he
only finally got around to publishing in 1838, shortly before his death, by
which time he had been working on the subject for over 40 years, it was
hard not to feel that at times when he appeared to be writing about the
Oriental sect, he was actually writing about agitators closer to home, and
the ostensibly dry and positivist Orientalist had in effect transformed the
74
Druzes into the Masons and Jacobins of the Middle Ages. De Sacy was not
such a dry old stick, and he wrote with passion. He wrote in the hope that
“quelle fasse servir ce tableau de l’une de plus insignes folies de l’espirit
humain, à apprendre aux hommes qui se glorifient de la superiorité de
leurs lumières, de quelles aberrations est capable la raison humaine lais-
sée à elle-même” (Silvestre de Sacy, 1838, p. viii).
As with early Orientalist portrayals of Sufism, the Druze faith was
presented as a foreign import into Islam, since the Druze creed was
judged to be a mixture of Greek and Persian philosophy. Sacy’s contempt
for the masses is evident in his account of the Fatimid Caliph al-Hakim
who, he claimed, imposed on foolish worshippers ready to become the
toys of anyone who could be bothered to take the trouble to seduce them.
In Hakim the Druzes had deified a sinister monster. The Druze practice
of reading the Qur’an allegorically also attracted Sacy’s unfavourable
attention. He compared it to the way that contemporary German theo-
logians were re-reading the Bible in order to find in it the ideas of Kant
and described those theologians as making use of the criticism of pure
reason in order to destroy the truths of the old Greek and Hebrew books
(Silvestre de Sacy, 1838, p. xxxiiin). (Just two years earlier in 1835–1836
David Strauss had published his critically analytical Das Leben Jesu, kri-
tische bearbeitet, which debunked the supernatural events related in the
Gospels.)
The general introduction to the Exposé was lengthy, and Silvestre de
Sacy did not confine his discussion narrowly to the Druzes. He also dis-
cussed the Fatimid Isma‘ilis, whom he thought similar to the Druzes,
and the Carmathians, whose aim had been to lead mankind to atheism
and immorality. De Sacy drew upon al-Nuwayri and al-Maqrizi in order
to present a picture of the nine successive stages of initiation by which
an Isma‘ili aspirant was successively led from a state of naïve belief in
the truths of revealed religion to a state of total cynicism combined with
utter subservience to the leader of a power-hungry cult. In presenting
this story of the nine-stage initiation of evil, de Sacy uncritically drew
on fragments of early Sunni propaganda that had been preserved in the
late Mamluk sources. A mythical Maymun ibn Abdallah al-Qaddah was
alleged by those sources to have founded Isma’ilism and to have fash-
ioned what was initially a seven-stage system of progressive revelation
that was designed to conduct the apprentice to unbelief and evil. This
particular piece of Sunni myth-making was eventually exposed by the
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76
To believe nothing and to dare all was, in two words, the sum of this
system, which annihilated every principle of religion and morality,
and had no other object than to execute ambitious designs with suit-
able ministers, who daring all and knowing nothing, since they con-
sider everything a cheat and nothing forbidden, are the best tools of an
infernal policy. A system which, with no other aim than the gratification
of an insatiable lust for domination, instead of seeking the highest of
human objects, precipitates itself into the abyss, and mangling itself, is
buried amidst the ruins of thrones and altars, the wreck of national hap-
piness, and the universal execration of mankind”.
77
78
79
reinforcement from those sources whence it drew its system and its name”
(Webster, 1924, p. 284). Some decades later, Arkon Daraul’s Secret Societies
presented once again the mythical nine-stage initiation of the Isma‘ilis.
Somewhat wildly, it also claimed that the Thugee cult was a branch of
the Assassins. It is evident that “Arkon Daraul” was actually Idries Shah
writing under a pseudonym (Daraul, 1961). In The Sufis, Idris Shah, this
time writing under his own name, claimed that the Carbonari were “dete-
riorated Sufis” and that Freemasonry had Sufi origins (Shah, 1964).
The idea of Isma‘ilis and Druzes as members of super conspiracies dedi-
cated to atheism, republicanism, free love and general mayhem remained
surprisingly popular with academic Orientalists for quite a long time. In
Histoire des musulmans d’Espagne, Reinhart Dozy wrote in his characteris-
tic novelettish high style about the vast and sinister Isma’ili conspiracy
that had threatened Umayyad rule in Spain and his particular hostility
was reserved for medieval Spanish Muslim intellectuals who thought
they were above the religious observances that they deemed to be fit only
for the vulgar (Dozy, 1861). Then Michael J. De Goeje’s Mémoire sur les
Carmathes de Bahraïn et les Fatimides presented Abdallah ibn Maymun as
a kind of crazed super criminal motivated by hatred of the Arabs and
Islam. Indeed de Goeje described his techniques of achieving power
over his followers as downright “satanic” (De Goeje, 1886, p. 1). Edward
Granville Browne’s A Literary History of Persia approvingly cited de Sacy,
Dozy, and de Goeje on Abdullah ibn Maymun and on the dark aims and
elaborate organisation of the Isma‘ilis. He also uncritically reproduced de
Sacy’s account of the levels of initiation all the way up to the ninth and
last level in which every vestige of dogmatic religion has been practically
cast aside, and the initiate has become a philosopher pure and simple,
free to adopt such system or admixture of systems as may be most to his
taste (Browne, 1928, vol. 1, pp. 393–5, 413–5). One cannot help feeling that
Abdallah ibn Maymun was welcomed by the Orientalists and introduced
into their monographs as a kind of early version of either Moriarty or Fu
Manchu in order to enliven what would otherwise have been remarkably
dull accounts of obscure Eastern heterodoxies.
The Orientalists were members of the establishment. As Eric Hobsbawm
has observed, “the bulk of the amateurs of the East and writers of pseudo-
Persian poems, out of whose enthusiasm much of modern orientalism
emerged, belonged to the anti-Jacobin tendency” (Hobsbawm, 1962,
p. 265). But some literary figures, such as Shelley, Hazlitt, and Michelet
80
81
82
propaganda and put a much more amiable spin upon the rest. In his
article “Karmatians” in The Encyclopedia of Islam, Massignon declared that
their secret conspiracy which was “based on reason, tolerance and equal-
ity . . . seems to have reached the West and to have influenced the forma-
tion of European gilds and freemasonry” (Massignon, 1927, pp. 767–72).
Just as important, as far as Massignon was concerned, was his convic-
tion that Qarmatian ideas and vocabulary had had a crucial influence on
Islam’s greatest saint, al-Hallaj. Even so, Massignon regarded all forms
of Shi‘ism as deviations from Sunnism and expressions of Islam’s decline
(Rocalve, 1993, p. 80). And, in another article on the Legend of the Three
Impostors, he traced the legend back to Abu Tahir, tenth-century Bahraini
Qarmathian, who was alleged to have remarked that “the world has been
taken in by three impostors: a shepherd, a doctor and a camel driver and
the last of the three was the worst of the lot” (Massignon, 1920b). Traces of
Massignon’s fascination with the conspiratorial nature of the Qarmathians
can be found in the early writings of his research student, Bernard Lewis.
In an article on medieval Islamic guilds, Lewis wrote of “the days when
the guilds formed a part of the Masonic system of the Qarmatis” (Lewis,
1937, p. 37, c.f. pp. 23–6).
The nineteenth-century European grand panic about the subversive
menace of secret societies lingered on. As late as 1870, in his novel Lothair,
Disraeli wrote as follows: “It is the Church against secret societies. They
are the only two strong things in Europe, and will survive kings, emper-
ors or parliaments” (Roberts, 1972, p. 18). However, in the course of the
nineteenth century such fears waned, particularly after the suppres-
sion of the revolutions of 1848. Moreover, the alleged menace posed by
Illuminati or Neo-Templars was first supplemented, and then to large
extent replaced, by the supposed dangers of a Jewish conspiracy, and
the Protocols of the Elders of Zion (1905) came at last to replace Barruel’s
Memoires as the favourite text of the paranoid. Though fantasies of a
Muslim conspiracy did linger on and indeed were given renewed vitality
by the Indian mutiny of 1857, those fantasies were usually about a con-
temporary Sunni Muslim conspiracy, as, for example, in such novels as
John Buchan’s Greenmantle and Talbot Mundy’s King of the Khyber Rifles
(both published in 1916). However, to return to the main subject of this
essay, scholars of the generation of de Sacy and von Hammer tended to
have a positivist and philological formation. They were not historians
by training, and they assembled their historical narratives by stringing
83
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Collectors and Collections. London: I.B. Tauris, pp. 1–61.
Von Hammer, J. Tubingen: n.i.; English translation by O.C. Wood (1835): The
History of the Assassins. London: Smith and Elder, Cornhill.
Webster, N. (1924): Secret Societies and Subversive Movements. London: Boswell.
86
Karin Hörner
Although not unique, the Middle East has provided some of the more
fertile case studies for scholars interested in understanding conspiracy
theories and their implication. [. . .]./[. . .]. Even if one accepts Pipes’
87
We all know that the people of the Middle East, from all walks of life and
all ideological orientations, have relied on conspiracy theories to under-
stand their politics and history [. . .]./[. . .] What is objectionable about
this work is its reliance on a catalogue of public utterances of undoubt-
edly paranoid leaders in the Middle East [. . .]. Even more troublesome
is the denigrating manner in which this is done. Conspiracy theories
are not peculiar to the Muslim crowd. They are common throughout
the Third World, as well as among all human groups who have been
relatively powerless against an aggressive adversary.2
88
the political arena which changed the world of media and information
policies in a way that in terms of cultural limits may prove to be no less
important to the West than the fall of the USSR. These radical changes
are yet perceived to be so dramatic that they often obfuscate basic assess-
ments of information and explanation. To step back in time, therefore,
renders possible a clearer sight.
What I intend is a kind of sampling, a beforehand filter for theories on
conspiracy theories that might prove useful. So this is neither about prin-
cipal corrections of these notions nor an alternative concept to take their
place. I propose a concept that belongs already to the semantic field of
conspiracies but has been conceptualized as an analytical tool in a differ-
ent academic context: “rumor”. The main reason for my proposal is that
research on conspiracism and its sister frameworks share with their objects
an inclination to overextend their scope. Or, to change the field of meta-
phors, they can fall under the influence of this virus that makes them look
compulsively for secret webs of hidden actors. Conspiracy theories have
considerable intellectual charm. This is how they earned the appreciative
appellation “theory” and why scholars are protesting unfailingly that there
are real conspiracies and that conspiracy theories are not “real” theories.3
These are sign of at least partial blockades in reasoning. Therefore, I would
recommend looking out for related concepts that share principal features
with conspiracism but that are less beguiling.
Most research on conspiracy theories makes use of two kinds of written
sources: News reports by professional journalists, on the one hand, editori-
als and publications on the internet that are more or less clearly marked as
opinionated on the other hand. Examples of both genres will be examined
critically. The following analyses of a typical example of a report shows
that oral communication, not written documents, are the medium of con-
spiracy theories in certain contexts. A typical internet source will be anal-
yzed afterward in the context of the Orientalism paradigm.
Paul Taylor reported for Reuters in April 2003, under the heading
“Baghdad’s Easy Fall Fuels Arab Conspiracy Theories”, the following
news:
‘Arabs and Muslims do not believe what has happened and the coming
days will reveal these secrets,’ Amman shopkeeper Jalal Aboud said. ‘I
don’t think Saddam was killed as some believe. He’s hiding in a place
known only too well to the Americans.’4
89
90
(. . .) a crusade was waged against Islam for the second time; this
time it was a cultural war which poisoned the mind (. . .) which was
far more dangerous than the crusader wars. The missionaries carried
out the spreading of their poisonous filth in the name of science and
humanity. The[y] used to do it in the name of Orientalism.7
91
Bassam Tibi, a scholar of Syrian origin, has held the chair of politi-
cal science in the University of Göttingen since 1973. He is a well-
established scholar who can boast an impressive list of publications
92
and many international honors. During the Gulf War, he was regularly
consulted as an expert on the Middle East in the national radio sta-
tion Deutschlandfunk. Kapferer remarks in an addenda to his book that
the Gulf War coverage in the media in France amounted to “rumours
as live program”.10 The same applies to Germany where full-time
coverage of the war refashioned and boosted the so-called breakfast
television, i.e. early morning news programs that were in dire need
of interesting information. Therefore, academic advice by scholars of
Middle Eastern studies formerly largely ignored became much sought
after.
Tibi’s political position is best illustrated following the conservative
Carl Schmitt’s definition of policy as enmity. Tibi likes to itemize his
enemies: multiculturalists, leftists, feminists, totalitarianists, and last
but not least scholars of Arabic and Islamic studies. All these people
either make the principal mistake of glossing over the failings of Islam,
Muslims or Middle Easterners, or they do underestimate his work that
has pioneer quality from his point of view – a view that is more often
correct than not.
After the Gulf war, Bassam Tibi found that contemporary Arab cul-
ture encourages a perception of political and historical processes as
shaped by conspiracies. Machinations of the West and scheming fel-
low Arabs characterize a position Tibi explains in his book on “Die
Verschwörung – al-Mu’a-mara [in Arabic script]: Das Trauma ara-
bischer Politik” [Conspiracy: Trauma of Arab Policy] (1993). Arab
societies are portrayed as lacking individualization and enlighten-
ment. Two years after 9/11, Tibi stressed in an article for the weekly
magazine Die Zeit the Islamist tradition of alleged Jewish conspiracies
against Islam and Arabs in general.11 Like many of his colleagues in
political science, Tibi realigned his line of focus from Arab to Muslim
topics in the aftermath of 9/11, preferring to analyze radical Islam and
Muslim terrorism to the merely verbal and notional violence of Arab
conspiracy thinking.
Tibi mentions rumors in general in several places. He rarely gives
particular historical events and related interpretations contrasting their
scholarly accepted and distorted explanation, respectively, in detail.
However, he features general outlines of the standard Western version of
the history of the Middle East. The following passage is characteristic for
a particular instance:
93
Remedies are not at the center of my argument, but I would like to men-
tion two obvious stress cracks in this bridge of understanding in order
to emphasize the relatively small scale of social groups in contrast to the
daunting quasi-objective Weltgeist-level of tradition vs. modernity. Firstly,
there would be no need of understanding without European anxieties
rooted in their “politico-cultural identity”. Secondly, it is modernization
itself that produces the anxieties that are expressed, appeased, and at the
same time reproduced by conspiracy theories. Modernization as an anti-
dote against “the non-existence of conspiracies” at first glance may be
likened to setting a thief to catch a thief.
Tibi suggested another concept for a similar problem in the context
of Islamism, “half-way modernity”.14 Closer inspection shows that the
uses of this displacement are also limited. Anxieties are no privilege of
the last two centuries. Research on conspiracy theories includes articles
on early modern witchhunts, political intrigues, “popery”, and the like.15
Conspiracy is discussed by social psychology as a historical phenomenon
to be found not only in the Middle Ages but also, for example, in the myth
of cannibalism.16 Anxieties aside, which half of modernity could it be that
Middle Easterners, Arabs, or Muslims miss by their failure to recognize
reality for what it really is? Conspiracy theories and conspiracism are
about the “hidden hand” of a secret actor causing certain phenomena. Is
the correct application of the category “causality” such a missing part of
full-fledged modernity?
94
95
In his book, “The Hidden Hand: Middle East Fears of Conspiracy” (1998)20
Pipes argues for a special Oriental mentality that breeds real and imag-
ined conspiracies and defines: “A conspiracy theory is the nonexistent ver-
sion of a conspiracy.”21 The stylishly positioned attribute “nonexistent”
points to the colloquial concept of “theory” in contrast to reality.
He introduces the new term “conspiracism”, a neologism that not
incidentally ends on “racism”. The “conspiracist” Arab and Muslim
state of mind is – according to Pipes – not a genuine trait, much less
96
Without being rude, they [Europeans and Americans, KH] can signal
their disdain of Middle Eastern fancies and rationales. [. . .] This sort
of denial may not be heeded, but it needs to be made, repeated, and
amplified.22
97
Conspiracies as curious stories are Pipes’ raw data and their attraction is
described with a mixture of nostalgia and regret typical for a reformed sin-
ner. Some intellectuals, Pipes says, love to flirt with conspiracies as fashion-
able distractions24 for their humor and “happy insanity”.25 Rebecca Moore
calls conspiracy theories “wild stories”, and finds at least on the internet
“frequently a sense of humour and fun in most of the conspiracy sites”.26 I
doubt that the attribution of “humour” has any critical power in this con-
text and should like “fashion”, “happy insanity”, and “distraction” be inter-
preted in contrast to the serious work of scientific research.27
Wild and curious stories are the domain of novels and movies on the
market. Conspiracy plots of secret societies were the mark of one of the
most successful genres of eighteenth-century novels. There has been
a hausse for mysteries in all kinds of media for many years, from JFK
by Oliver Stone and The X-Files to the bestsellers by Dan Brown and
publications like Robert Anton Wilson’s “Everything Is Under Control:
Conspiracies, Cults, and Cover-Ups” (1998).28
Obviously, Pipes himself has been attracted in the same way.29 He
explains in his preface that his book “began as a lighthearted collection of
anecdotes” (p. IX).30 He gives no details in this context. However, if you
take a look at his articles on conspiracy you get an idea of what he means.
For example, on the topic of Lady Di’s death, Pipes and his co-author Hill
Kasha wrote an article in 1997. They start with a clear distinction of the
Western and Arab press, beginning with the Western press representing
a source critical approach:
98
The conspiracy theories (. . .) are no mere curiosity but a plumb line into
the mentality of a people. This makes them worth exploring in some
depth.
Now at least Pipes shows his hand and lists the intriguing “factoids”.
They are typical anonymous rumors blown up into extravagant headlines
that are characteristic of the yellow press all over the world:
The main reason for classifying the messages on Diana rumors is that
there is no reason why they should be more than rumors. A rumor can
be defined as the expression of beliefs in an unofficial public sphere
which are – like opinions – not fully determined by proven facts and –
unlike opinions – not rooted in some fancy of the speaker but based on
99
100
the so-called theories are not about facts but about values and have to be
analyzed in the context of specific groups and their values and interests.
This is an insight that is very hard to convey – “truth” itself is an over-
whelmingly strong value in the social discourse of science in the public.
Therefore I will not expound it in this paper.35 Real conspiracies should
be addressed not by Middle Eastern Studies but by secret services and
other security institutions that have to defend the present government
and powerful people in general.
At least one of the rumors Kapferer analyzes in extenso is still en vogue
all over Europe: The list of food additives that are reputedly carcinogenic,
a list of E-Numbers that is still distributed by health shops and consumer
counseling institutions. French people are perhaps more concerned about
the quality of their food than Germans are. It will be no surprise to you
to hear that typical French rumors are about McDonald’s Hamburgers
being made of earthworms – while in Germany it is dog food in Chinese
restaurants.
Rumors thus often, but not always, reflect apprehensions of particular
groups. These anxieties might concern a large group, for instance,
parents of teenage daughters who care about their safety. This is the
background of rumors about the kidnapping of girls from fashionable
shops, discos, and similar places, the names of which and the type of
perpetrators will conform to the local situation. To give an example for
a rumor of a smaller social range – wearers of contact lenses are inter-
ested in the rumor that lenses can be “welded” to the eye in case of
explosions. Other rumors reflect specific political conditions: Kapferer
mentions rumors about Pompidou’s illness and the purported political
consequences.
There is an important area that has been neglected up till now – at
least to my knowledge. Kapferer does not mention hopeful rumors that
stem not from anxiety but from the opposite, wishful thinking. Anxieties
as well as wishes can be translated into normative statements. For
instance, the case of Lady Di’s conversion is a wishful rumor: Muslims
who spread it confirmed thereby that they find it proper for Christian
consorts of Muslim men to become Muslims themselves and make that
public by wearing the hijab that in turn is a sign for their valuing female
modesty. If you wish to understand the specific social evaluation of the
Zionist world conspiracism, you first have to look for the group the ide-
ology is addressed to. Conspiracism amongst German Neonazis is to be
101
Consider [. . .] the intense debates that have been raging inside Syrian
society since the Madrid Conference on Israel over the ‘peace process’
and the nature of our future relationship with the neighbor, as well as
the fears, anxieties, disappointments, failures, and expectations aroused
by a coming, seemingly willy-nilly, deal with the old enemy. Here, a
word of warning is very much in order against possible misunderstand-
ings. These intense discussions are not open public debates aired on
radio and television or conducted through newspapers, magazines,
pamphlets, etc., but are highly charged, comprehensive, and pervasive
exchanges whose main vehicles are the time-honored methods of oral
transmission, through conversations among people who are within ear-
shot of each other. This is Damascus’s rumor mill and the people’s free
press at one and the same time.36
102
REFERENCES
Al-Azm S.J. (2000): “The View from Damaskus”, The New York Review of Books, 47,
No. 10 (15 June 2000), pp. 70–77, citation p. 70, also to be found on the internet:
http://www.nybooks.com/articles/46 – (20 June 2005).
Carl, F.G.; Serge, M. (eds) (1987): Changing Conceptions of Conspiracy. New York:
Springer.
Coward, B.; Swann, J. (eds) (2004): Conspiracies and Conspiracy Theory in Early
Modern Europe: From the Waldensians to the French Revolution. Aldershot: Asghate.
Farhi, F. (1999): “Daniel Pipes, The Hidden Hand: Middle East Fears of Conspiracy.”
(Review). IJMES, vol. 31, pp. 454–457.
Hellinger, D. (2003): “Paranoia, Conspiracy, and Hegemony in American Politics”,
in H.G. West, T. Sanders (eds) Transparency and Conspiracy: Ethnographies of
Suspicion in the New World Order. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.
Hizb-ut-Tahrir, (2005): The Crusader’s Animosity, p. 2. http://www.hizb-ut-tahrir.
org/english/books/state/chapter_41.html – (15 June 2005).
Hörner, K. (1993): “Der Begriff Feindbild, Ursachen und Abwehr”, in Hrsg. von
V. Klemm; K. Hörner (eds) Das Schwert des Experten. Heidelberg: Palmyra,
pp.34–43.
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104
Matthew Gray
105
106
The rather obvious and banal observation that conspiracies do, in fact,
occur as a natural dynamic of politics does not detract from the inherent
truth of the observation. In the case of the Arab Middle East, moreover,
there is a strong history of foreign penetration of the region, most notably
over several centuries of Ottoman rule and, more recently, in the first
half of the twentieth century, by European powers operating under colo-
nial mandates. Despite the economic benefits that colonialism brought
to many parts of the region (Owen, 1993, pp. 111–124), such rule was
penetrative and submissive of traditional and local political elites, under-
mined political development both at the national and local levels (Bill
and Springborg, 1990, pp. 231–233), and even sought to move beyond
mere physical control of territory and individuals to also influence the
thinking, and by extension the political perspectives and dynamics, of
the colonized (Mitchell, 1988, pp. 95–127). To many Arabs under colo-
nial rule, the European elite was an opaque layer of authority positioned
above society but able to exert political control over its destiny and to
shape social norms and group identity (Fanon, 1965, see especially pp.
127–158). The new political elites that were created or the old ones that
were nurtured by colonialism were often seen as being in consort or even
under the direct control of the foreign occupying power; even though
many were to later lead post-independence modernizing efforts in many
107
108
in the Middle East and to create or sustain governments that suit US stra-
tegic and economic ambitions.
There are, of course, other political events of a conspiratorial nature
of note. Pipes (1996, p. 330) points to Israeli intelligence activities in
Egypt, specifically to the 1954 Lavon Affair, as an example. Other Mossad
activities – and indeed, Mossad’s efficiency in general – help to support a
conspiratorial view that Israel has a far stronger hand in regional events
than it in fact does have. If even a small number of the claims made about
Mossad are true, then it is indeed effective at mounting operations against
Arab countries and targets (see among others Raviv and Melman, 1990;
Reeve, 2000; Thomas, 1999). Some of these books, however, such as Hoy
and Ostrovsky (1990), contain a tone and allegations that make it seem,
at times, like the book is actually itself a case of conspiracist paranoia.2
Beyond the operations of Mossad, the opaque nature of patrimonial lead-
ership in the Middle East, and the traditional threat to leaders from coups
d’ètát, sets a climate of political suspicion and provides plenty of ammuni-
tion to conspiracy theorists.
Important to note here is the importance placed by Middle Easterners
on the past and on an understanding of history. The Egyptian intellec-
tual Fawzy Mansour quotes Marx on the link between the past and the
present: “[a]longside of modern evils, a whole series of inherited events
oppress . . . we suffer not only from the living, but from the dead. Le mort
saisit le vif.” (Mansour, 1992, p. 47), declaring “How much more fitting
this description is for the Arab World in the second half of the twen-
tieth century” than Germany a century earlier (Mansour, 1992, p. 48).
Barry Rubin, when discussing the overthrow of Mossadeq, makes the
observation that “[t]he political events of the early 1950s are little more
than ancient history to most Americans. To most Iranians, however,
that period was the essential backdrop to their 1978–1979 revolution . . .”
(Rubin, 1980, p. 55). The strength of popular memory is recognized by
regimes, which will construct historical interpretations to build popular
legitimacy and the concept of shared heritage (Davis and Gavrielides,
1991, pp. 116–148), although when such attempts fail, society’s view of
the state is likely to plunge.
This is not to argue that the strength of historical memory in the Middle
East creates a propensity toward conspiracism. Rather, that conspiracies
actually occur means that conspiracists can point to examples of foreign
intervention or collusion by indigenous political elites, which in turn
109
110
111
112
113
profiteering (Bill and Springborg, 1990, p. 426). Thus an appendage was cre-
ated under the new Egyptian president Husni Mubarak in the early 1980s
to create the new term “productive infit¯ah.” (al-infit¯ah. al-int¯aji4) (Bill and
Springborg, 1990, p. 426). Not only do economic prescriptions risk becom-
ing “ritualistic incantations” (Bill and Springborg, 1990, p. 440) – which
would have the same impact as past policies in marginalizing certain
groups or of expanding the chasm between the state’s elites and society –
but many of the economic policies thrust upon the region by multilateral
lending bodies, in the form of what has become known as the “Washington
consensus” (Williamson, 1993), inflict immediate pain. Regardless of their
longer-term benefits or justifications, such policies impact large segments
of society through, for example, the removal of subsidies on basic com-
modities or the rationalization of public sector services.
Moreover, if – some would say when – such policies fail to deliver
what they have promised, and especially if they marginalize large (sub)
groups, conspiracism will likely manifest itself as a popular explanation
for the policies and their impacts, probably linking foreign intervention
(economic in this policy instance, but related in many minds to a broader
cultural and social penetration of the region by the US and Western culture
and cultural symbols) to the negative results of the state’s liberalist devel-
opment policies. Sadiki makes this link when talking about democracy as
“simply a footnote” to the ultimately exploitative “economic correctness”
(which he defines very simplistically as “marketization and privatiza-
tion”) (Sadiki, 2004, p. 372). This perspective is touched upon several
times, for example, also when discussing the link between sovereignty
and international lending bodies such as the World Bank (Sadiki, 2004,
p. 348). The language, if not the intent, of this simplified linkage of eco-
nomics to politics and exploitation is reminiscent of a broad, mass style
of conspiracist explanation in the region. The link between Western eco-
nomic policy prescription and foreign penetration had, of course, already
been made by leaderships: Ayatollah Khomeini’s conspiracist-type fear
of “Westoxication”, which he first enunciated in the early 1980s, was not
only about cultural penetration but also developed from Iran’s experience
with economic penetration and exploitation and was not-coincidentally
heard during periods of economic difficulty or austerity (Hiro, 2001,
pp. 199–200, 210–213). In a somewhat similar vein, Fawzy Mansour sees
economic penetration as having created a praetorian bureaucracy and
a comprador business and quasi-business sector that is in cahoots with
114
115
If we take at face value the common view that the Middle East is a high
power distant culture, the impacts of this on conspiracism raise two inter-
esting questions. One, does this promote a fatalistic interpretation of
political outcomes that, in turn, suits the development of conspiracism?
Alternatively – or as well – does conspiracism represent an attempt at
a discourse by the weak or marginalized, within a political system that
allows them little formal discursive space?
Given the large and possibly growing chasm between political word
and deed in the Middle East, there is clearly a link between political dis-
satisfaction, even marginalization, and conspiracism at a popular level in
the Middle East, as there is elsewhere. Fenster (1999, p. 67, quoted in Pratt,
2003: n.p.) claims that he takes a “realist” approach to explaining conspira-
cism (versus what he calls the “symbolist” approach of Hofstadter and
others), in that “[conspiracy theories] ideologically address real structural
inequities, and constitute a response to a withering civil society and the
concentration in the ownership of the means of production, which together
leave the political subject without the ability to be recognized or to signify
in the public realm” (Fenster, 1999, p. 67, quoted in Pratt, 2003, n.p.). Such
an assertion is just as true of the Middle East as it is of the United States, on
which Fenster focuses, although there is less of the “symbolist” discourse
in the case of the Middle East, perhaps because of the important role that
conspiracist rhetoric plays in formal state discourse and communication
with society (more on which later).
116
The gap between leaderships and society stem not just from the gap
between policy rhetoric and policy implementation, despite the impor-
tance of this as an explanation for conspiracism at the mass level. The gap
is also an indication of the strengths of local politics and of the multiple
layers of identity held by many people in the Middle East. Further, the
gap is a manifestation of minority governments, which remain a feature
of some Arab states and the opaque neo-patrimonial networks that many
leaders create around themselves to reinforce their positions and enhance
their reach into the institutions and social forces of politics.
Minority governments also are an important consideration as a source
of popular conspiracism. They are in power in Syria, where an Alawi
leadership controls a majority Sunni population, in Bahrain, where a
Sunni royal family controls a majority Shi’a population, and in effect
in Lebanon, where a consociationalist quasi-democracy means that no
one group – Sunni, Shi’a, Christian, Druze, or others – controls govern-
ment, even if the Christians and Sunnis have disproportionate power
and influence over it. Until 2003 Saddam Hussayn’s Iraq was another
example of a minority government. Minority governments, of course,
must find something other than structural legitimacy upon which to
base their power, and as part of this process, many choose to marginal-
ize other, non-governing groups (that is, in most cases, the majority of
the population). A sense of conspiracism by the state against the popu-
lation can, therefore, emerge, where the state is viewed as being – or is
– deliberately exclusionary and at times oppressive against movements
that might develop into a more pervasive threat to the state or its elites.
More generally, even in states where the ruling elite broadly represents
the society’s majority, there is still a propensity to marginalize, or even
conspire against, groups that present a real, potential, or imagined threat
to the regime or elite, the result of the large minority populations of the
region and the broad heterogeneity of the states of the region (Bill and
Springborg, 1990, pp. 38–39).
This marginalization, and the ways in which it is challenged, occurs
not just because of minority governments, or sectarian or ethnic fragmen-
tation but also on the basis of social class. Bayat (1997) provides some
interesting examples of poor people’s movements in Iran, citing examples
of how such movements are formed out of groups dislocated or neglected
by the 1978–1979 revolution. While he does not discuss conspiracism, his
observations about the origins of dislocation and the forms of anti-state
117
thinking and conduct are relevant and highlight the broader challenges
to governments in the region. Silverstein (2000) considers conspiracism
in Algeria during the civil war in the 1990s, with informal accounts and
popular, informal discussion taking the place of media and other infor-
mation that the state had censored, as well as conspiracism forming part
of the popular response to the violence suffered by Algerians during the
civil war (Silverstein, 2000, n.p.). In response, therefore, to the “tactical
manipulation of knowledge [by the state]” (Silverstein, 2000, n.p.) and to
violence, conspiracism becomes a method of fighting back, of challenging
the state’s censorship by construing that it must have something to hide,
of undermining party officials that are often popularly viewed as no more
genuine or nationalistic than the colonial administrators they replaced,
and of explaining nasty state behavior by groups such as the security ser-
vices (Silverstein, 2000, n.p.). The Algerian example gives strength to the
idea that conspiracism in the Middle East can be a genuine, mainstream
response to people’s fears and political anxieties – and even a way of chal-
lenging authoritarianism or poor political leadership – and is not merely a
manifestation of paranoia as in Hofstadter’s (1965) more dismissive, pejo-
rative view of the case of the United States. More important, conspira-
cism as essentially a self-delusion, as per Pipes’ (1996) more pathological
explanation, is demonstrated by the Algerian example as being especially
shallow and simplistic. El–Nawawy and Iskandar (2003, pp. 58–65) make
a strong case that the Qatar-based satellite television station Al-Jazeera
uses conspiracism effectively as a way to empower its viewers, vis–à–vis
their individual governments, at an inter-state level.
It is important to recall that not only “all politics is local” but more
broadly that there are multiple and often competing layers of identity and
loyalty in the Middle East, of which the state is but one. While nation-
state nationalism and the power of centralized authority has increased
in the Middle East in the post–independence period, this does not pre-
clude alternative or contending loyalties from distancing citizens from
their government nor indeed of localized politics and sub-state loyalties
from usurping the state’s authority. Middle Eastern societies have con-
tinually had a strong element of family, clan, and tribal loyalties – what
Bill and Springborg (1990, pp. 85–138) call “the genes of politics” – with
which the state has had to relate and contend for power (Lapidus, 1990,
pp. 25–47). These loyalties not only compete with each other and with the
state but also with other influences on politics and identity such as social
118
class and religiosity (Eickelman and Piscatori, 1996, pp. 35–36). When
the state has failed to build its popular legitimacy, as demonstrated ear-
lier, plus shifted into a post–populist phase of authoritarianism or some
similar form of greater coercive control over society, an obvious outcome
is a growing mistrust by the citizenry of the state itself and, by exten-
sion, of the state’s motivations. That the state’s motivations come into
question is a foundational aspect of conspiracism in any society; indeed
such a case for conspiracism in the United States and other societies is
made routinely, pointing to the growth of government secrecy (CCC, n.d.,
n.p.), as minority fears of majority governments (added to the strength
of some conspiracist orators) (Cooper with Ferguson, 1990, pp. 30–31) or
as an Othering of the bureaucratized state (Fenster, 1999, p. 74 quoted in
Pratt, 2003, n.p.). Conspiracism could also be viewed more broadly in the
same way that Kishtainy (1985, p. 128) sees Arab humor and joke mak-
ing as a method for an independent-minded population to express their
autonomy from government. The bureaucratization that has occurred in
much of the Middle East over the second half of the twentieth century,
especially a massive growth in domestic intelligence services’ penetration
of society, reinforces distrust of the state and acts as a source of popular
conspiracism.
The opaqueness of the state’s motivations is linked not least of all to
the intricate neo-patrimonial webs that leaderships build around and
below themselves, through which they exert control over, and ensure the
loyalty of, the wider institutions of state power such as the bureaucracy,
the military and, increasingly, religious institutions and new classes such
as private sector business people. Through these networks, leaders cre-
ate a web of “power elites”, which “shapes the political style and molds
the political system of a society” (Bill and Springborg, 1990, p. 137). Such
a system has two important impacts for the study of conspiracism: it
encourages informal politics and opaque decision-making dynamics, and
it creates rivalries among the elite but loyalty upward to a political leader.
Thus the state, as evidenced by its leader and those surrounding him
or her, becomes seen by the wider population as an inaccessible, secre-
tive network that reaches its own private symbiotic arrangements, and
oftentimes therefore as corrupt and out of touch with popular concerns.
It is only a short step from seeing the state in this light to thus viewing
the individuals at the summit of the state as people who act against their
own citizenry to guarantee their political survival and to build their own
119
political and financial positions and thereby assume that such individu-
als are inherently conspiratorial toward others. This is, of course, often
an accurate interpretation of such actors, who will conspire against each
other or work together against social forces to secure their political posi-
tions and the attendant privileges. Thus, it is less the inherent culture of
the region that accounts for conspiracism and more the ways in which
Middle Eastern political culture fosters a set of dynamics, not least of all
state–society dialog (or lack thereof), from and within which conspira-
cism emerges and becomes part of popular discourse about an elite that
is distant and opaque.
The discussion above has predominantly been focused on cases where the
population, rather than the state or its elite, is the rhetor. One characteris-
tic which sets the Middle East apart from some other regions, however, is
the fact that conspiracism is often part of the state’s discourse and not just
a discourse by particular marginalized or dissatisfied minorities (or less
transparently, by social forces). While some forms of conspiracism may
challenge a state’s power, it is common to find states also acting as con-
spiracist rhetor, typically through the use of monopolized mass media, or
governing party structures, or under the direction of a charismatic leader.
There are several explanations for this state behavior.
First, such conspiracism can aid the state in diverting attention away
from its political or developmental flaws or failures and toward a con-
structed enemy; to “relieve responsibility” (Pipes, 1996, p. 359) and to win
wider popular support for state policies or behaviors that otherwise may
be more effectively challenged (Pipes, 1996, pp. 358–361). Pipes dwells, if
largely descriptively, on this when looking at the portrayal of Israel and
Jews by Arab leaderships and political institutions. In this sense, state
conspiracism is a version of the United States and USSR using conspira-
cism as state propaganda, as touched upon (but unfortunately not fully
developed) by Young and Launder (1988, p. 217), even though the rhetoric
in, say, the United States was usually less extreme and vitriolic than what
often comes from state media in the Middle East. Conspiracism becomes
a form of state-led Othering and of creating a larger imagined enemy, in
turn increasing popular suspicions of the enemy.
120
121
CONCLUSION
122
REFERENCES
Ajami, F. (1992): The Arab Predicament: Arab Political Thought and Practice since 1967.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Ajami, F. (1998): The Dream Palace of the Arabs: A Generation’s Odyssey. New York:
Pantheon.
Al-Azm, S. (1997): “An Interview with Sadik J. Al-Azm”, Arab Studies Quarterly,
vol. 19, no. 3, Summer, pp. 113–126.
Al-Azm, S. (2004): “Time Out of Joint: Western Dominance, Islamist Terror, and
the Arab Imagination”, Boston Review, October–November, available HTTP:
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Bayat, A. (1997): Street Politics: Poor People’s Movements in Iran. New York: Columbia
University Press.
Bill, J.; Springborg, R. (1990): Politics in the Middle East, 3rd ed. Glenview IL: Scott,
Foresman/Little, Brown.
Bonney, R. (2004): Jih¯ ad: From Qur’¯ an to bin L¯ aden. New York: Palgrave
MacMillan.
Brown, L.C. (1984): International Politics and the Middle East: Old Rules, Dangerous
Game. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Buruma, I.; Margalit, A. (2004): Occidentalism: The West in the Eyes of its Enemies.
New York: Penguin Press.
CCC (Centre for Conspiracy Culture). (no date): Conspiracy Thinking and Conspiracy
Studying, available online at http://www.wkac.ac.uk/ccc/content/essay1.
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Politics”, U.S. News & World Report, 12 March, pp. 30–31.
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Culture in Iraq and Kuwait”, in E. Davis, N. Gavrielides (eds) Statecraft in
the Middle East: Oil, Historical Memory, and Popular Culture. Gainesville FL:
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Eickelman, D.F.; Piscatori, J. (1996): Muslim Politics. Princeton: Princeton University
Press.
El–Nawawy, M.; Iskandar, A. (2003): Al–Jazeera: The Story of the Network that is
Rattling Governments and Redefining Modern Journalism. Cambridge, MA:
Westview Press.
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Rubin, B. (1980): Paved with Good Intentions: The American Experience and Iran.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
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2005).
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London: Hurst & Company.
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University Press.
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(accessed 11 March 2005).
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St Martin’s Press.
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Regimes. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
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Contemporary Syria. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.
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Preferences’”, The American Political Science Review, vol. 82, no. 2, 589–597.
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Soviet–American Rhetoric. Lanham MD: University Press of America.
125
J. M. Muslimin
INTRODUCTION
129
If we observe some points carefully, such as the logic used by the pro-
ponents of reform and those who were against the Islamic thought reform
movement, we find that the points of argument were indirectly based on
the assumption that there were strong influences of orientalist’s thoughts
in the minds of reformers. Furthermore, the influences were so strong that
it was possible that the reformers had made themselves complicit with
Western or Orientalist interests.4
The following elaborations will shed light on the development of the
discourse and themes of the debates which had occurred, especially in
recent years: in the time when words like “orientalist’s influences” and
“conspiracy” have become more direct and real.
The emergence of JIL in 2001 was the continuation of Islamic reform move-
ment whose seeds had been planted long before. The activists of JIL are
dominated by young people who had been raised on NU traditions and
led by Ulil Abshar Abdallah who is also active in the NGO known as the
Committee of Human Resources Development Studies (LAKPESDAM)
of Nahdlatul Ulama (NU). Other names associated with this group are
Zuhairi Misrawi and Lutfi al-Saukani.5
It can be said that JIL originally brought up the agenda of Islamic
thought reformation which was more or less similar to the movement
that preceded them (Paramadina group led by Nurcholish Madjid).
However, compared to Paramadina, JIL activities and voices are more
various, vocal and influential. JIL runs its own website on the internet
and initiates public dialogs through radio all over Indonesia, 6 television
and national newspapers. Furthermore, JIL actively pursues cooperative
programs with American-based foundations, such as Ford Foundation or
the Asia Foundation. Such widespread networking and publications had
never been attempted by Paramadina.
The antithesis of JIL is DDII.7 The founding fathers of the latter were
the old activists of the legendary Islamic Party (Majelis Syuro Muslimin
Indonesia, Masyumi). The prominent spokesmen of this group are Adian
Husaini and Adnin Armas. Both are graduates of the International
130
I N C L U S I VE T H E OL OG Y
JIL activists are people who vocally state this issue on some occasions. The
JIL community hold a common view that the epistemological building of
the right Islamic attitudes (theological) is the submission to God regard-
less of the color and nature of the religion. By submitting to God, every-
one will be able to achieve rewards from Him even without participating
in an organized religion.10
For JIL activists, there are generally three types of attitudes toward
the inter-faith dialog process. Firstly, it is an exclusively theologi-
cal attitude. Consequently, by this attitude only Islam is considered
the right religion, while other religions are wrong paths that mislead
their followers. Secondly, it is the inclusive attitude; this attitude con-
firms the view that religions outside Islam are considered to be implicit
forms of Islam. Thirdly, it is the pluralistic-theological attitude. This
attitude is best expressed in the statement that “other religions are
equally valid ways to the same truth”, “other religions speak of differ-
ent, but equally valid truths”, “each religion expresses an important
part of the truth”.11
From the logic and arguments used in expressing their inclusive and
plural theological views, the JIL group usually refers to the theologians
and religious thinkers such as Karl Rahner, Alvin Platinga, John Hick and
Syed Hosein Nasr, besides referring to the Koran.
131
Besides those effects, for JIL activists the tragic thing is that the imple-
mentation of Islamic law will ruin the foundations of national secularism
which will end up in a totalitarian state. Ulil Abshar Abdallah states
On other occasions, Ulil also explains that in Islamic law, ritual aspects
are distinguished from the inter-personal (interactive and horizontal
activities) ones. Ritual areas have been arranged in detail. All ritual proce-
dures must be in accordance with the fixed guidelines of the religion. For
example, the number of raka’as in prayers cannot be added or reduced.
On the other hand, inter-personal areas are progressive and dynamic,
corresponding to the development of human civilization and cultures.
Whereas God’s law related to The Book of Criminal Law (Kitab Undang-
undang Hukum Pidana, KUHP) never existed. The punishments such as
cutting off hand, retaliation and stoning are simply derived from the
influences of Arabic cultures.15
According to Ulil, the core of law is the realization of five basic virtues:
to protect the soul, mind, religion, possessions and honor. For instance,
the protection of the mind is realized in the form of liquor prohibition.
This prohibition is conditional. Therefore, vodka in Russia can be allowed,
since it is very cold there.16
In other essays, Ulil states that issues concerning Islamic law is a
manifestation of the the Muslim community which have resulted from
their incapacity to cope with the many essential problems they face.
Furthermore, the JIL group also suggest a process of deconstruction of the
established logics of Islamic law. The failure in deconstructing it will cause
Islamic law to remain in shackles and restricted within the old paradigm.17
Still related to the Islamic law, another member of JIL (Luthfi
al-Saukani) also proposes that the concept of Islamic law does not really
exist. The concept was in fact derived from ideas and works of those who
have over-idealized Islam.18
To Luthfi, all laws implemented by a society are basically positive
laws. These include the law applied by the Prophet himself. The Koran
became the source of the constitution used at that time only because there
were no other sources better than the Koran itself.19
132
However, Luthfi also states that the Koran itself was not the only
source of law at that time. Historically, Muhammad himself also derived
from the traditions of the people, including the cases of criminal law, such
as stoning, body amputation, burning at the stake, in the cases of sod-
omy, and the implementation of blood money in cases of murder and
forgiveness.
To Lutfi, given such historical facts, Muhammad was a man who
interacted with the Jewish people and tribal groups living in Medina
and took up the existing laws which applied to the society at the time.
Therefore, the law which was implemented was not a purely Islamic law.
Furthermore, in some rituals such as the pilgrimage to Mecca, are contin-
uations from the tradition and practice of the Jahilliyah era (before Islam).
The concept of alms giving is a heritage of Roman law which had been
revised. Prayer is a legacy of the Jewish traditions taught by David, which
had been modified.20
In the economic system, according to Luthfi, Muhammad consented
to all Roman practices which dominated almost all administrations and
states. Moreover, Muhammad himself still used coins with the picture of
Yustianus and dealt with trade transactions following Roman ways. In
short, all the efforts of the Prophet were directed toward establishing a
civil society on the basis of revelations which he had received recorded in
the Koran, but he did not stop there. He also analyzed the realities which
had developed whether in economic, social or cultural issues.21
In their statements, the JIL community also declared that one of their main
tasks is to eliminate the virus of fundamentalism. It is expressed in one of
the essays they posted in their official website:
133
of the militant religious point of views, in the long term, these views
held by militant religious groups will possibly be dominant. When
this happens, there will be some negative impacts on the establish-
ment of democracy in Indonesia because the militant religious point of
view generally provokes conflicts between existing religions, let’s say
between Islam and Christianity . . . Open, plural and humane religious
points of views are the only essential values at the foundation of a dem-
ocratic life.22
134
DDII´S RESPONSES
As we can predict, the emergence of the JIL group was harshly responded
to by the DDII group. From some responses available, especially the ones
represented by the writings of Adian Husaini, Hartono Ahmad Jaiz and
Adnin Armas, the characteristics of the responses can be classified as
follows:
First, the JIL group are refuted through the Islamic literal approach.
The JIL group is clearly classified as a group that goes astray theologi-
cally. The JIL group is not only regarded as disturbing the established
religious understanding, but they have also departed from the basis and
foundation of Islam itself. Hartono Ahmad Jaiz, who best represents the
first response states that the JIL group
Intending to compare what has been done by the JIL group with the opin-
ions of Ali Abdul Raziq from al-Azhar University, Adian Husaini gives
historical illustrations that Raziq was expelled from the al-Azhar Scholar
Council due to (a) making Islamic law a religious law that had nothing
to do with wordly rules; (b) having the opinion that the only motive of
prophet Muhammad’s campaigns was political expansion; (c) asserting
that governmental body in the Muhammad era had no definite govern-
ment system; (d) believing that Muhammad was supposed to be a mere
messenger of God (spiritual leader), not a political leader; (e) stating that
there was no agreement among scholars to appoint an Islamic leader;
(f) denying the existence of the Islamic court system; (g) thinking that the
government in the early period of Islam was a secular government, and
not a religious one.27
135
Second, there are responses and accusation that the JIL in fact has been
involved in a conspiracy with orientalists, Christian, West and Jewish peo-
ple to weaken the strength of the Muslim community. Hartono Ahmad
Jaiz, Adian Husaini and Adnin Armas say that all the opinions put for-
ward by the JIL group are the manifestations of orientalist influences and
part of conspiracies involving Christian-Western-Jewish interests.28
Adian Husaini, a prolific writer on conspiracy theory, after giving his
comments that there are orientalist influences in the JIL ways of thinking,
concludes that these are all “Christian missionary traps” and “Zionist’s
tricks”.29
Furthermore he mentions that the history of Zionist influence has
prevailed in Indonesia since long ago. Referring to the book written
by Iskandar P. Nugraha titled Decomposing East and West Boundaries:
Theosophy and Nationalist movement in Indonesia (Mengikis Batas Timur
dan Barat: Gerakan Theosofi dan Nasionalisme Indonesia (2001),30 A. Husaini
concludes that long before the independence of Indonesia, Freemasonry
organization which were really a secret Jewish organization had emerged
in Indonesia.31
According to Husaini, Freemasonry exerted influence through its activ-
ities in the theosophy movement. This theosophy movement had a great
impact on national independence figures. For instance, Soekarno’s par-
ents were members of this theosophic organization. Muhammad Hatta him-
self (vice-President in Soekarno´s era) also obtained a scholarship from
Ir. Fournier and van Leeuwen, who were both members of the theoso-
phy organization. While other figures of the national movement, namely,
Mohammad Yamin, Abu Hanifah, Agus Salim, Achmad Soebardjo,
Radjiman Widyodiningrat, Tjipto Mangoenkoesoemo, Douwes Dekker,
Armijn Pane, Sanoesi Pane were classified as members or closely associ-
ated with this theosophy organization.32
To Husaini, this Zionist influence was so significant in Indonesia that
in the reformation era (2001) Zionist strategies were still being applied.
He quotes without critical comment the book of Sidik Jatnika The Zionist´s
Movement with Malay Face (Gerkan Zionis Berwajah Melayu)33 as follows:
136
In responding to the arguments and ideas of the JIL, the activists of DDII
seem to accuse JIL of being conspirators using the theory of conspiracy
to refute their ideas. Why did they suggest such an assumption? Looking
at the structure of their arguments and the socio-political context of
Indonesia, there are several possibilities that can motivate it, namely the
following:
First, it is the psycho-politics of the Indonesian scriptural Moslem
group. They feel that they have repeatedly failed to implement Islamic
syariah as the national system of Indonesian law. Since the Dutch colonial
era, the Old Order of President Soekarno, the New Order of President
Soeharto, until the era of reformation, Islamic syariah, as they have
defined it, could not become part of the real life in Indonesia. This reality
could generate social disappointment which can in turn create prejudice
toward others.35
Such psycho-politics does not take place among the substantial Moslem
groups, such as the JIL group. This group basically assumes that the con-
tent and substance of Islam is more important than its formal nature.
They also believe that though Islam is a universal and eternal faith, it
must nevertheless be interpreted continually in accordance with the
development of the time and context. Besides, they assume that the form
137
138
139
Arndt Graf 1
In this paper, I develop the hypothesis that, at least in the case of aca-
demic knowledge production on Indonesia, the overall Western intel-
lectual hegemony has considerably decreased since the colonial era, in
several clearly distinguishable phases which I call structural Orientalism,
contested Orientalism, and post-Orientalism.
To illustrate this hypothesis in an initial, limited case study, I depart
theoretically from one of Edward Said’s observations on typical aspects
of Western Orientalist bias, namely Western constructions of the
deviant violence of such “Oriental peoples”, as Muslims, Indians, or
Africans. Said (1978) argues that such notions of Oriental violence often
served historically as a legitimization for imperialist “pacification” and
“civilizing” efforts shouldered, as they saw it, by Western powers. If
this is the case, then such an assumed popularity of the cliché of the
141
THE SAMPLE
142
143
– the violence on the Dutch side was not framed by Dutch colonial writ-
ers and the KITLV librarians as “violence” but, say, as “punishment”,
“war”, or “conflict”;
144
145
146
peace) which hides the structural and partially very manifest violence of
the colonial regime behind the image of “Dutch peace”.11
It is interesting that both documents of 1947 and 1948 mentioned were
written in English, not Dutch, the language of almost all the other publica-
tions from the colonial period. The principal target group was apparently
an international, English-speaking audience outside the Netherlands,
most probably in America, which should be convinced of the deep cul-
tural legitimization of further Dutch rule, police actions, and efforts at
pacification. Eventually, for various reasons these propaganda efforts
finally failed, and the government of the Netherlands had to accept the
independence of the Republic of Indonesia in 1949, not least having to
bow to American pressure.
One of the main legacies of that period of Dutch violence in Indonesia
is that the concept of “violence in Indonesia” obtained the connotation of
Indonesian savagery as opposed to Dutch-Western civilization. The ques-
tion in terms of Orientalism is how powerful that particular Orientalist
construction of “violence in Indonesia” was to be in the post-colonial
period.
147
148
149
Total 220
150
which we can obtain from the analysis of the KITLV keyword sample
is that such Western policies of exclusion and inclusion had become
much less significant in terms of intellectual hegemony and Orientalist
knowledge production than in the period of structural Orientalism. In
this period of structural post-Orientalism, the change in the quantitative
balance of intellectual hegemony becomes even clearer if the other places
where books on violence in Indonesia have been published are taken into
consideration. The Netherlands, as the former colonial power, still occu-
pies the leading position in the non-Indonesian market, with 17 volumes
(monographs, collective volumes, etc.) on “violence in Indonesia” pub-
lished between 1999 and 2003. However, this is only 7.72% of the world
production on that topic, namely 220 books. If we consider only the
non-Indonesian market, i.e. 63 books, the publications published in the
Netherlands still represent about a quarter of all book publications. Even
if we remember that the place of publication is not necessarily linked to
the national or academic background of the authors, the net balance of
Indonesianist publications per country can be taken as an indicator of the
attractiveness of its academic centers and academic publishers. The pub-
lication record of 1999–2003 for the Netherlands is far from the old times
when this country held the academic monopoly in Indonesian studies,
although it is still remarkable. This is especially the case if we limit our
view to the European market only. Here, the Dutch share still consists of
17 out of 38 publications, which is almost half of the regional European
market. This means that it is no longer the formerly colonized Indonesia
which is confronted with the intellectual hegemony of the Netherlands,
but rather its European neighbors which are not as active in studies on
Indonesian affairs or which do not have similarly specialized publishing
houses.
At the global level, the KITLV keyword sample suggests that the
non-Indonesian market of publications on violence in Indonesia from
1999 to 2003 is dominated not only by the Netherlands (17 books
or 26.98%), but also by Australia (10 books or 15.87%), the United
Kingdom (10 books or 15.87%), and America (9 books or 14.28%).
The rest of the market is divided between 9 other countries, of which
Germany, Denmark, and the Philippines produced more than one pub-
lication. In general, in these nine “small” countries the attention paid
to the topic of “violence in Indonesia” by both authors and publishers
seems to be of a scale considerably less than in the Netherlands and the
151
152
sometimes being entered only as a whole, sometimes with all its individ-
ual contributions. It is of course possible that there are more publications
than those mentioned here, however, the sample is constructed according
to the choices made by the KITLV library team as the main gatekeepers
and therefore represents one of the most important perspectives on the
scene of journal contributions on “violence in Indonesia”.
The first look is at the rough geographical distribution of journal arti-
cles on Indonesian violence in the five-year period from 1999 to 2003. For
this period, the KITLV library documents worldwide 70 journal articles
which are related to this keyword. Of these, 47 or 67.14% were published
in Indonesian journals. Only about 32.86% or roughly a third of the total
appeared outside of Indonesia. These numbers are very similar to those
found in the book production on “violence of Indonesia” since the fall of
the New Order documented above, with the Indonesian share at 71.36%.
This means that the journal articles documented by the KITLV library,
albeit probably not all-encompassing, also convey a realistic picture of
the overall relations of knowledge production. On the basis of the KITLV
keyword sample, we can no longer speak of a non-Indonesian hege-
mony in the intellectual discourse on the issue of Indonesian violence
or of an ongoing structural Orientalism. Rather, in this phase of post-
Orientalism, Indonesians seem to dominate this field, at least in terms of
quantitative output.
The leading place for journal publications on “violence in Indonesia”,
outside the country itself during the period considered, is America, or,
to be more precise, the journal Indonesia which is published at Cornell
University. Nine out of 23 non-Indonesian journal articles were pub-
lished there, which is almost half (39.13%) of the non-Indonesian journal
contributions on the subject. In this non-Indonesian category, it is pos-
sible to prove that a particular journal has a relative quantitative hege-
mony. This dominance is unrivaled, since the closest followers in this
race for publications, Australia and the Netherlands, have only about a
third of the American output in this category. With both countries each
at only 13.08% of the non-Indonesian output and even a mere 4.28%
share of the total world output respectively, there can be no allegations
leveled that academic journals in any of these countries exert a quantita-
tive hegemonic impact in either category which would be comparable
to the colonial period of structural Orientalism. However, it has to be
added that several of the 17 book publications on this topic published
153
154
155
STRUCTURAL ORIENTALISM, CONTESTED ORIENTALISM, POST-ORIENTALISM
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Chapter 08.indd 156
Table 3: Popularity of the topic “violence in Indonesia” by journal, 1999–2003
156
Percentage of the Percentage of
Percentage of the non-Indonesian the Indonesian
Number world market (i.e. of market (i.e. of 23 market (i.e. of 47
Journal of publication of articles Country 70 journal articles) journal articles) journal articles)
Jurnal Perempuan 23 Indonesia 32.85% – 48.93%
Indonesia 9 USA 12.85% 39.13% –
Analisis CSIS 5 Indonesia 7.14% – 10.63%
Jurnal Demokrasi dan HAM 5 Indonesia 7.14% – 10.63%
Antropologi Indonesia 4 Indonesia 5.71% – 8.51%
O R I E N TA L I S M A N D C O N S P I R A C Y
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Chapter 08.indd 157
Percentage of the Percentage of
Percentage of the non-Indonesian the Indonesian
Number world market (i.e. of market (i.e. of 23 market (i.e. of 47
Journal of publication of articles Country 70 journal articles) journal articles) journal articles)
Mitra 1 Indonesia 1.42% – 2.12%
Tajuk 1 Indonesia 1.42% – 2.12%
Seni 1 Indonesia 1.42% – 2.12%
Persimmon 1 Indonesia 1.42% – 2.12%
Gamma 1 Indonesia 1.42% – 2.12%
Melbourne journal of law 1 Australia 1.42% 4.34% –
RefleXie 1 Netherlands 1.42% 4.34% –
Erasmus mag 1 Netherlands 1.42% 4.34% –
Volkskrant mag. 1 Netherlands 1.42% 4.34% –
Commentary 1 Singapore 1.42% 4.34% –
Sojourn
Sojourn 1 Singapore 1.42% 4.34% –
Rev. int. Croix-Rouge 1 Switzerland 1.42% 4.34% –
Tonan Ajia kenkyu 1 Japan 1.42% 4.34% –
Total – 100% –
157
STRUCTURAL ORIENTALISM, CONTESTED ORIENTALISM, POST-ORIENTALISM
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O R I E N TA L I S M A N D C O N S P I R A C Y
158
CONCLUSION
159
160
161
REFERENCES
I N T E R N ET S OUR C E
162
163
Schirin Fathi 1
INTRODUCTION
*In a cautionary note, I would like to point to the fact that the research for this article was
conducted in 2004 and 2005. Since then a number of articles have appeared on MEMRI,
continuing the debate. Some of those articles may be found on the following webpage
http://www.rightweb.irc-online.org/profile/Middle_East_Media_Research_
Institute. One major problem, however, is presented by the fact that MEMRI has
updated its website since this article was written, deleting and restructuring some
pages as well as changing the focus of its research topics.
165
166
in sections of the Arabic and Farsi press, thus sensitizing the West to its
image in parts of the Middle East as the enemy or the other. Its principle
is to translate and not to assess.
And this is exactly where the many critical voices take up and dis-
pute the stated purpose of this Institute. The accuracy of its transla-
tions is rarely disputed. However, the extent to which its selection
is contextual or truly representative of Arab/Iranian media is very
often disputed. The critics allege MEMRI to construct a selective view
of Arab and Farsi opinion and to present through its tendentious
sample a distorted and unbalanced picture of the Arab and Muslim
world. Not disputing that the articles translated by MEMRI are actu-
ally found in the Arabic and Farsi press but stating that they are
counterbalanced by other opinions which hardly find their way into
MEMRI’s selection – thus goes the charge of “cherry-picking” the
vast Arabic press, highlighting “those [articles] that suit its agenda
[but] are not representative of the newspapers’ content as a whole”
(Whitaker 2002).
Another contention is that MEMRI attempts “in some way [to] fur-
ther the political agenda of Israel” (Whitaker 2002). MEMRI is geared
toward Western policy and decision makers, and the claim goes that
through sweeping generalizations and selective statements reflecting
minority opinions, the ignorance and misunderstandings between
the “west” and the Arab world and Iran are perpetuated and Western
perceptions are changed for the worse – which furthers Israel’s agenda.
Arab Media Watch alleges that “by passing itself off as an independent
organisation with a quasi-academic name, MEMRI has deceived a
number of journalists into thinking it is a reliable source of informa-
tion. . . . [and] almost all its staff members have been strongly partisan
in their political and military work. [This too] should cast immediate
doubt upon its credibility as an organisation and the accuracy of its
work”.4 Some of these allegations will be picked up in the course of this
analysis and commented upon.
The fact that MEMRI’s headquarters are located in Washington, DC,
with branch offices, among others, in Jerusalem, where MEMRI also
maintains its Media Centre, certainly fuels some of the critics’ suspicions.
The suspicions went so far that MEMRI’s founder accused critics of “try-
ing to paint MEMRI in a conspiratorial manner by portraying us as a rich,
sinister group”,5 clearly trying to evoke conspiracies of a different kind.
167
INSTITUTIONAL ANALYSIS
Some facts are indisputable, and these refer to the institutional organiza-
tion and structural make-up of MEMRI. One among these facts is that
it was founded in 1998 with its headquarters in Washington, DC, and
branches presently in Jerusalem, Berlin, Baghdad and Tokyo. It assumed
a more prominent role after the events of 11 September 2001, due to
increased Western public interest in Arab and Iranian affairs. At that
time, it expanded its staff considerably, setting up new branches, and
it was regularly quoted by major American and European newspapers.
A conversation with a MEMRI staff in Berlin6 revealed that the London
office has apparently closed recently due to personnel problems but that
offices in Baghdad and Ankara are in the process of being opened. Yigal
Carmon, the founder and head of MEMRI, confirmed in a phone con-
versation7 and ensuing email correspondence that the London office has
been closed; however, he cited the heavy financial burden as the reason.
Rumors of an office in Baghdad began circulating right after the offi-
cial end of the military intervention in Iraq.8 Mr. Carmon confirmed the
opening of an office in Baghdad, with “several Iraqis on MEMRI’s pay-
roll” – a fact that was disputed by the Berlin office a day or two before.
He pointed out, however, that under the current circumstances in Iraq,
their presence is not transparent, and the office is not publicly identifi-
able. There had also been an office in Moscow in 2003 but that too has
closed due to financial restraints. On the other hand, a Turkish branch is
in the process of being established. The impression conveyed is one of a
dynamic, fluid, rapidly exploring and expanding institution, consider-
ing that up to eight locations have been established within a span of
seven years.
Originally, MEMRI translated out of Arabic, Farsi and Hebrew with
an emphasis on Arabic media and press and an increasing share of Farsi
press. Yet, articles translated out of the Hebrew press were scarcely found.
The head of the Berlin office, Dr. Jochen Müller, maintains that the project
168
169
170
171
There is, however, need to say a few words on MEMRI’s interaction with
its critics. In the preceding section, there was some allusion to the efforts
on part of MEMRI to discredit those who publish or say things that are in
contradiction to MEMRI’s self-representation. One way to cast disrepute
on their adversaries is to allege that the critics have dishonest motives.
Most often these motives smack of antisemitism or have to be seen in
some conspiratorial context.
When taking its critics on, MEMRI does not shy away from entering
into public debate, just as it is not squeamish when it comes to resort-
ing to legal action. The mayor of London, Mr. Ken Livingstone, the
Guardian’s Brian Whitaker, the German magazine inamo and Juan Cole
from the University of Michigan are among those that have entered into,
or been threatened with, legal battle with MEMRI. Cole refers to them
as “SLAPPs – Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation”, and they
have been prominently used against environmentalists. “The targets of
these law suits are generally not radical environmentalists nor profes-
sional activists. They are ordinary middle-class people who are concerned
about their local environment and have no history of political activity.
They are often the organisers of opposing groups, or perceived trouble
makers”17.
The author of this article encountered a similar treatment, short of a
lawsuit, but with an effort at intimidation. This paper was presented at the
University of Hamburg in June 2005, at a workshop in conjunction with
the conferral of the honorary doctorate upon Prof. Sadik J. Al-‘Azm, emer-
itus professor of modern European philosophy at Damascus University,
in recognition of his seminal intellectual achievements. When I presented
the paper, my object of research and analysis, namely MEMRI, was atten-
dant – in itself an unsettling, or at least an uncommon, situation. MEMRI’s
founder, Yigal Carmon, was quite active lobbying during the breaks
against my paper before it was held, but then he left the workshop when
172
it was my turn to speak, while the head of the Berlin office and a colleague
of his stayed on. The situation got a little out of hand when aforemen-
tioned members of MEMRI and other sympathizers accused me during the
ensuing discussion of hatching a “conspiracy against MEMRI”, of having
a “secret agenda” and “not liking” the organization. It must be pointed out
that this is not really the kind of language used in academic settings. But
more than that, this kind of language bespeaks the mentality and mindset
of the denouncer, revealing less about my work than about his own dispo-
sition. In addition, MEMRI’s repeated denial that it is a partisan lobbying
institution highlighted in an exemplary way some of the issues touched
upon in this workshop.
While it was my initial intention to scrutinize an organization that
lacks a certain transparency and transports an image of the “Orient” that
may be seen in continuation of the school of Orientalism in the Saidian
sense, the precursory research – and much more, the spectacular perfor-
mance during the discussion in the workshop – turned into a little case
study of the possible mechanics of conspiracies. At least, this case study
highlights the importance of transparency and reiterates the fact that its
absence facilitates a milieu open to all possible theories, conjectures and
allegations.
173
• At the top of the list is the Jihad and Terrorism Studies Project, in which
it responds to the “threat of militant-Islamic terrorist organizations
operating in the United States [which] has become a reality”. This
project “monitors militant-Islamic groups that educate and preach
Jihad and martyrdom in mosques, school systems, and in the media.”
The work of this focus is self-explanatory.
• United States and the Middle East - This section features translations and
analyses of Middle Eastern news and events which impact the United
States. The Middle East Policy is a quick review, which presents this
picture: out of the 12 items of this project in the current year (2005), 11
portrayed a clear-cut anti-American tone, be it on the Iranian nuclear
program, on the strain of Egyptian-US relations, anti-Americanism
in the Turkish media, anti-Americanism in Palestinian sermons or
the issue of American alleged Koran desecrations and Arab reac-
tions to that. A particular gruesome report is on a Saudi paper writ-
ing on American harvesting of Iraqi organs. Granted that US policy
has seen better days than these in the Middle East, this representation
in MEMRI does cast a very lopsided view, considering the number
of Middle East states that can still be counted as loyal friends of the
United States.
• The Arab-Israeli Conflict - a project which supposedly “focuses on cur-
rent developments in the peace-process, as well as its breakdown”
seems to have been discontinued as the last item dates from Decem-
ber 2003.
• Inter-Arab Relations - Also, this focus seems quite inactive as the last
entry dates from July 2004. MEMRI states that “this section of the
website focuses on main inter-Arab developments such as the decline
of pan-Arab nationalism, the rise of Islamic fundamentalism and will
review elements of unity and disunity in the Arab world.” Yet, the
majority of reports in this project aim mostly to point to differences
among Arab states, often in an unqualified, rhetorical and irrational
and emotive way. Some of the headlines read, for example: “Syrian
174
175
As I said before, this cannot be more than a very brief overview of the
topics and issues addressed and especially the last two projects war-
rant a much more detailed analytical discussion than could be offered
within the scope of this paper. Especially the reform project needs a
176
CONCLUSION
177
178
REFERENCES
179
Melman, Y. (2002): “Don’t Confuse us with Facts – How Israeli Military Intelligence
Botched Assessment of Arafat”, Ha’aretz, 16 August 2002.
MEMRI. (2002): “Stellungnahme MEMRIs zu dem Artikel v. Brian Whitaker in
inamo Nr. 31/2002”, inamo, 32/2002, p. 49.
MEMRI. (2005): Aus arabischen Medien – Gesellschaftskritische Stimmen im Nahen und
Mittleren Osten. Berlin: iz3w und MEMRI.
MEMRI Special Dispatch (2005): “Al-Sharq Al-Awsat: Interview zur Arbeit von
MEMRI und zu Scheich Al-Qaradawi”, 31 März.
Newsletters der Botschaft des Staates Israel–Berlin, various issues. http://nlar-
chiv.israel.de/
Nordbruch, G. (2004): “Geschichte im Konflikt – Der Nationalsozialismus als
Thema aktueller Debatten in der ägyptischen Öffentlichkeit”, in G. Höpp;
P. Wien; R. Wildangel (eds) Blind für die Geschichte? Arabische Begegnungen mit
dem Nationalsozialismus, Berlin: Klaus Schwarz Verlag, pp. 269–294.
Raz-Krakotzkin, A. (2004): “Aus dem Lehrbuch: Geschichte des Zionismus und
Geschichte des Landes”, inamo 10/38, pp. 24–28.
Said, E. (1998): “An die arabischen Unterstützer von Roger Garaudy: Der Dritte
Weg führt weiter”, Le Monde Diplomatique (dt. Ausgabe) 5608, 14 August 1998,
pp. 1–5.
Said, E. (2000): The End of the Peace Process, Oslo and After. London: Granta Books.
Solnick, A. (2003): “An Israeli Arab Initiative to Visit Auschwitz”, Inquiry and
Analysis Series – No. 136, The Middle East Media Research Institute 25 April
2003. http://www.memri.org/report/en/0/0/0/0/0/0/855.htm
Taub, G. (2003): “MEMRI Gains”, Correspondence – An International Review of
Culture and Society Winter 2002/2003, vol. 10, Published by the Council on
Foreign Relations.
Whitaker, B. (2002): “Selective MEMRI”, Guardian Unlimited 12 August 2002.
Internet site is accessible at http://www.guardian.co.uk/elsewhere/journal-
ist/story/0,,773258,00.html
Wulf, J.-H. (2004): “Rollentausch der Dunkelmänner – Das Middle East Media
Research Institute (MEMRI) mit Sitz in Washington weist auf Antisemitismus
in arabischen Medien hin”, taz 30 April 2004, p. 19.
Zuckermann, M. (2003): Zweierlei Israel? Hamburg: KVV Konkret.
Zuckermann, M. (2005): Tel Aviver Jahrbuch für deutsche Geschichte 33,
Antisemitismus – Antizionismus – Israelkritik, Göttingen: Wallstein.
180
Sadik J. Al-Azm2
—Goethe, Faust
SECTION ONE
P R O L O GU E
If we try to identify the basic feelings through which the three Semitic
religions expressed man’s relationship to God, we would discover that
they are limited to three: love, fear, and hatred – love of God, fear of His
power and punishment, and hatred of His enemy, Iblis (Satan). Religious
thinkers treated these feelings in numerous books and lots of pages. Their
views on Iblis ranged from serious attempts to determine the position
that he occupies in the order of the universe, his relationship to God, and
the purpose of his existence to mere profuse explanations of his deception
of people and to teaching them well-known invocations and incantations
so that they can dismiss him and ward off his evil. There is no doubt
that each one of us bears in our minds a particular image of Iblis’ char-
acter inherited as an indivisible part of his or her traditional culture and
religious upbringing. I find it unnecessary to expatiate on recalling this
image of Iblis in the popular mind because it is well known to all of us.
Iblis was a favorite angel of God and was of great consequence in
the order of the heavenly host until he disobeyed God’s order and was
expelled from paradise, incurring eternal damnation. Thus, Iblis became
the embodiment of everything evil, acquiring all the attributes that are
incompatible with God. We note here that Iblis’ name indicates his essence,
which is “iblas” – that is, total despair of God’s mercy and of return to par-
adise (this according to traditional Muslim interpretations of the meaning
of iblas).3 We are all familiar with the proverb that signifies a total loss
of hope: Like Iblis’ hope of return to paradise. The word Iblis connotes
181
182
the course of most events and for most philosophical, artistic, and politi-
cal movements in the history of civilization.
The above quick review examined the popular traditional image of
Iblis and the powers attributed to him. That aside, the purpose of this
study is to reconsider the story of Iblis and to study his character, attitude,
responsibilities, and fate from a perspective different from the beliefs and
ideas that have heretofore governed our conception of this creature. The
primary sources to be examined are the Koranic verses that recount the
story and biography of Iblis, as well as works by Muslim thinkers who
took interest in Iblis, his character, his disobedience, his function, and his
end.
However, I would like to make it clear that this study is conducted
within a specific mytho-religious framework, which ensues from man’s
mythical imagination and fabulatory faculties. I do not intend to treat the
story of Iblis within the purview of pure religious faith, or to talk about
him as if he were a real existing being. Rather, I will approach him as a
mythical character created by man’s fabulatory faculties and amplified by
man’s fertile imagination. In dealing with the subject of Iblis, I find myself
face to face with an ancient, deep-rooted mytho-religious tradition. What
I most desire to achieve is to reconsider one of the primary characters to
come down to us in this heritage, but always remaining within the con-
fines of the primary data of mythological thinking, and without deviating
from its basic postulates.
It is worth mentioning here that the popular preconceived notion of
myth and its importance is somewhat removed from the real role that
myths play in people’s lives and the texture of cultures. We are accus-
tomed, for example, to dismissing something as mere “legend or myth,”
to depreciate its importance, to banish it from mind, to deny it any prac-
tical reality and/or objectivity, and to show that it is mere illusion and
fantasy. It is therefore necessary to digress a little and explain some
important facts about the nature of myth and the significance of mytho-
logical thinking for man and society.
Philosophers have defined man as a rational being, an animal
endowed with the faculty of speech and reason. If man is such, then he
is also a “mythological” animal, for just as man is the only animal that
is endowed with speech and reason, he is also the only animal that cre-
ates fables and legends and transforms them into complex mythologies,
and then believes in them categorically as if they were real indubitable
183
184
I must affirm, at the end of this prefatory section of my essay, that the
mention of God, Iblis, jinn, angels, and the heavenly host does not
mean that these names refer to real but invisible beings. The structure
of the (Arabic) language ipso facto necessitates that I write and speak in
a certain manner that seemingly suggests the actual existence of these
characters. This is merely a linguistic illusion. If I were writing about
Prince Hamlet, for example, none of you would believe that the name
Hamlet referred to a real being outside the scope of the literary heritage
from Shakespeare. Likewise, when we say “Hamlet killed his uncle,”
we do not believe that such an incident did actually occur in Denmark.
Similarly, when we say “God expelled Iblis from Paradise,” we should
not think that such an incident did occur in the history of the universe.
Such utterances are meant symbolically and are not descriptions of
actual events.
SECTION TWO
The sources that we are consulting in this study on the story of Iblis begin
with a description of his lofty position in the heavenly host before he was
expelled from Paradise. In his book Taflis Iblis (The Failure of Iblis), Imam
Izz al-Din al-Maqdisi addresses Iblis thus:
185
Then there are the Koranic verses that relate what happened to Iblis, how
he disobeyed God, and how God cursed him until the Day of Judgment
and expelled him from paradise:
And when thy Lord said unto the angels: “Lo! I am about to place a
viceroy in the earth, they said: Wilt Thou place therein one who will do
harm therein and will shed blood, while we, we hymn Thy praise and
sanctify Thee? He said: Surely I know that which ye know not. And He
taught Adam all the names, and then showed them to the angels, say-
ing: Inform me of the names of these, if ye are truthful.” They said: Be
glorified! We have no knowledge saving that which Thou hast taught
us. Lo! Thou, only Thou, art the Knower, the Wise. He said: O Adam!
Inform them of their names, and when he had informed them of their
names, He said: Did I not tell you that I know the secret of the heavens
and the earth? And I know that which ye disclose and which ye hide.
And when We said unto the angels: Prostrate yourselves before Adam,
they fell prostrate, all save Iblis. He demurred through pride, and so
became a disbeliever
(Koran 2: 30–34).
And (remember) when thy Lord said unto the angels: Lo! I am creat-
ing a mortal out of potter’s clay of black mud altered. So, when I have
made him and have breathed into him of My spirit, do ye fall down,
prostrating yourselves unto him. So the angels fell prostrate, all of them
together save Iblis. He refused to be among the prostrate. He said: O
Iblis! What aileth thee that thou art not among the prostrate? He said:
Why should I prostrate myself unto a mortal whom Thou hast created
out of potter’s clay of black mud altered? He said: Then go thou forth
from hence, for verily thou art outcast. And lo! the curse shall be upon
thee till the Day of Judgment. He said: My Lord! Reprieve me till the
day when they are raised. He said: Then lo! thou art of those reprieved
till an appointed time. He said: My Lord! Because Thou has sent me
astray, I verily shall adorn the path of error for them in the earth, and
shall mislead them every one, save such of them as are Thy perfectly
devoted slaves
186
And We created you, then fashioned you, then told the angels: Fall ye
prostrate before Adam! And they fell prostrate, all save Iblis, who was
not of those who make prostration. He said: What hindered thee that
thou didst not fall prostrate when I bade thee? (Iblis) said: I am better
than him. Thou createdst me of fire while him Thou didst create of mud.
He said: Then go down hence! It is not for thee to show pride here, so
go forth! Lo! thou art of those degraded. He said: Reprieve me till the
day when they are raised (from the dead). He said: Lo! thou art of those
reprieved. He said: Now, because Thou hast sent me astray, verily I shall
lurk in ambush for them on Thy Right Path. Then I shall come upon them
from before them and from behind them and from their right hands and
from their left hands, and Thou will not find most of them beholden
(unto Thee). He said: Go forth from hence, degraded, banished. As for
such of them as follow thee, surely I will fill hell with all of you.
(Koran 7: 11–18).
The story of Iblis, as recounted in these verses is simple on the face of it.
God ordered him to prostrate himself before Adam, but he refused and
suffered the consequences. However, to surpass this superficial view of
the problem of Iblis, we need to go back to an important idea advanced by
some Muslim scholars: The distinction between divine command or order
and divine will. An order ipso facto is either obeyed and executed or is
disobeyed. The one given the order has the choice of obeying or disobey-
ing. As for divine will, it is not subject to such considerations because it
cannot, by its very nature, be refused. Anything that the divine will wants
is of necessity existent. God willed the existence of a great many things
but also ordered mankind to keep away from them. Similarly, He ordered
man to perform certain things but also wanted man to fulfill things other
than the ones He had ordered. Thus, we can say that God ordered Iblis to
prostrate himself before Adam but willed him to disobey His order.11 Had
God willed Iblis to fall prostrate, he would have done so immediately,
since God’s slave has no strength or power to disobey divine will. If we
were to consider the matter from this perspective, we would be able to
regard order and command as accidental, or contingent, in comparison
with the eternity of divine will and the timelessness of God.
If we reconsider the Koranic verses that we have just cited, it becomes
clear that God wanted the angels to “hymn His praise and sanctify Him.”
Al-Tabari states in his famous Tafsir that “praising and sanctifying” God
187
188
189
God said to Iblis: “Do you not lay prostrate, O ignominious one? Iblis
replied: I love Thee and he who is in love is humble (mahin). You char-
acterized me as ignominious, but I have read in A Revealed Book what
this will bring upon me, O Thou Omnipotent One. How could I debase
myself to Adam while you created me of fire and created him of clay?
190
Clay and fire are irreconcilable opposites. I have served you longer, am
of greater worth, am more knowledgeable, and am more perfect of age
than Adam.”16
We thus infer that the story of Iblis as recounted in the Koranic verses
is not as simple as we had imagined. It is not a story of conflict between
good and evil, right and wrong. Iblis fell between two millstones, the
millstone of divine will and that of divine command. He had to make a
choice that would determine his destiny, a choice between his absolute
duty of professing the Oneness of God, of hymning His praise, and sanc-
tifying Him and the secondary duties of obedience that God had ordered
him to fulfill. His ordeal was therefore replete with dramatic and tragic
elements.
Before I proceed with unpacking the implications of this conception
of Iblis’ ordeal, I feel obliged to refute the assertions promoted by Abbas
Mahmud al-Aqqad in his book, Iblis. Al-Aqqad attempts to defend the
superficial traditional conception of Iblis’ character as merely a being who
disobeyed God’s order, and so God expelled him from paradise. As such,
Al-Aqqad refuses to acknowledge Iblis’ ordeal and upholds the necessity
of Iblis’ prostration before Adam. Upon scrutiny, we find that Al-Aqqad’s
opinion is based on two arguments.
1) Angels had to lay prostrate before Adam because he was better than
they. Adam was capable of doing good and evil, whereas angels
could do good only. They are safeguarded against the temptation of
evil and thus it is not attributable to them.17
2) Iblis must prostrate himself before Adam because God had taught
Adam all the names but had not taught them to the Angels, which
makes Adam superior to them.18
a) The story of Iblis demonstrates that even the chiefs of the angels and
those favored by God among them are not safe from the temptation
of evil, or else Iblis would not have disobeyed God and would not
191
have met such a miserable fate. We therefore infer that angels are
subject to good and evil. Like man, they are subject to the trials of
evil and are required to do good, which negates Adam’s superior-
ity to angels and consequently eliminates the need to lay prostrate
before him.
b) If we assume, hypothetically, with al-Aqqad that the angels are not
subject to good and evil but rather always do good, due to their
nature and essence, does that mean that Adam is better than they?
Let us rephrase the question in more general terms: Which creatures
are superior: Those who do good on occasion and do evil on other
occasions, inflicting harm on earth and shedding blood, or those
who do good only, constantly and forever?
The answer to this question is very clear and needs no discussion, based
on the premise that our moral conception of the perfect will dictates that it
is the will that constantly and effortlessly does good, because doing good
has become part of its essence and intrinsic nature. As for the imperfect
will, it is still struggling and striving to defeat the temptation of evil in an
attempt to come close to the perfect will, which is its ideal.
If the angels, according to al-Aqqad’s claim, are free from the tempta-
tion of evil, then God had undoubtedly bestowed upon them a perfect
will that would make them far superior to Adam and his progeny. When
God said to the angels, “Lo! I am about to place a viceroy in the earth,”
the angels demurred before such an enormity and answered: “Wilt Thou
place therein one who will do harm therein and will shed blood?” Does
al-Aqqad intend to make Adam’s ability to do harm and shed blood a
source of his superiority over the angels?
We now proceed to refute al-Aqqad’s second argument, the claim
that it is the angels’ duty to fall prostrate before Adam because God
had taught him, not the angels, all the names. We have shown ear-
lier that Iblis was superior to Adam because of Iblis’ intrinsic nature
and essence; his superiority was not due to contingent, ephemeral
conditions such as those acquired by Adam when God taught him all
the names. In other words, Adam’s knowledge of all the names does
not constitute one, or indeed any, of his distinguishing and essential
characteristics.
There is no doubt that the angels could have learned all the names if
God had wanted that. We therefore infer that Adam’s knowledge of all
192
the names was contingent, and was bestowed upon him by God to entice
the angels to lay prostrate before him. Hence,
3) Al- Aqqad’s claim that it was incumbent upon Iblis to fall prostrate
before Adam because Adam was superior to the angels is false and to
be rejected.
SECTION THREE
193
inability to find an appropriate exit from his ordeal. The choice that Iblis
had to make was critical for his destiny. His eternal happiness or misery
depended on his choice. He could surrender to the requirements of the
will and be consistent with his absolute duty, thereby attaining eventual
happiness, or he could slide into submission to God’s order and to the
secondary duties of obedience, thus failing the test and becoming forever
miserable. In short, the order to lay prostrate placed Iblis’ being, life, and
eternal happiness in the balance because “the giver of the order grants,
but the will plunders,” and “the orderer says do, but the will says do not
do.”
In addition, al-Maqdisi’s statement shows that those who undergo
such an ordeal do not have a clear, bright path nor are they given a chance
to distinguish easily between a right choice and a wrong choice because
of the indistinguishable “subtlety . . . of the two.” Furthermore, those who
are placed in such a predicament find themselves totally alone, unable to
benefit from the counsel or assistance of friend or companion. They have
to make the choice alone and they must bear the consequences of their
choice. The path that they were predestined to take is, as al-Maqdisi said,
a “lonely narrow space.”
In the following pages, I shall try to determine the elements of tragedy
in Iblis’ ordeal and to highlight its various aspects as precisely and clearly
as the subject allows. I will, therefore, rely on two principal sources: the
Greek drama of Sophocles and the story of Abraham in the Semitic reli-
gious tradition.
I need not dwell long on the story of Abraham. Abraham was ordered
to slay his son Isaaq (or Ishmael) and when he was about to execute the
order, God ransomed him “with a tremendous victim (Koran 37: 107).”21
I pause here for a moment to refer to a well-known study by Kierkegaard
of the story of Abraham in his book, Fear and Trembling. I have relied in this
section of my study on the general outlines of Kierkegaard’s interpretation
of Abraham’s trial. However, this should not preclude some basic differ-
ences between the opinions that I will present and Kierkegaards’special
standpoint on the persona of Abraham. There is no doubt that the story of
Abraham contains powerful tragic potentials and many of the basic ele-
ments of tragedy. However, we cannot under any circumstances consider
it a real tragedy because it has a happy, optimistic, and pleasing ending.
The feeling left by the story of Abraham differs completely and qualita-
tively from the feeling left by the story of King Oedipus, for example.22
194
There are many considerations that make Iblis’ ordeal a real tragedy,
and I will point them out as follows:
1) A tragedy often occurs at the time of major crises and violent events
that upset the status quo, rock the foundations of current systems, and
shake the prevailing values so much so that those undergoing such
trials feel that their former being and familiar mode of existence have
been put to trial and that the moral, spiritual, and material compo-
nents of their surrounding world are about to collapse. God had given
Abraham “a gentle son.” “And when his son was old enough to walk
with him, Abraham said, “O my dear son, I have seen in a dream that
I must sacrifice thee. . . . ” (Koran 37: 101–102). Abraham was ordered
to sacrifice his son as an offering to God. This order upset all measures
and standards, broke down all values, and blurred and confused all
features and characteristics. The merciful compassionate father has to
kill his son, with premeditation, calmness, and submission.
Iblis was a teacher to the angels and a leader to the cherubim. He was,
as al-Maqdisi observes, calm and peaceful, sound and virtuous, and while
he was in the presence of witnesses, God brought Adam into being and
ordered him to lay prostrate before Adam.23 Thereupon the order of the
heavenly host shook, and all standards and measures were toppled again.
The forehead of Iblis, which had only prostrated itself before the One had
to prostrate itself before a human. The teacher who taught tawhid to angels
had to disavow the earlier sanctification and glorification of God. Fire had
to submit to clay. But Iblis refused to prostrate himself before Adam and
was thus damned until the Day of Judgment. In other words, the story
presents Iblis’ disavowal and his expulsion from paradise at the highest
of his glory, then at the lowest point of his suffering and misery. In this
respect, the story of Iblis was much like the ancient Greek story that pres-
ents King Oedipus at the apex of his power and glory and then presents
him wandering in the labyrinths of despair, suffering, and agony. Both
Iblis and King Oedipus became outcasts, disfigured and loathsome, after
they tumbled to the abyss of suffering. Whoever had supported them
became their adversary.
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King Creon, on the other hand, was motivated by a noble, patriotic emo-
tion when he ordered punishment against the brother who bore arms
against the city and was killed at its gates. He was also sincere in his
attempt to uphold the rule of law and to restore order to the city of Thebes
after the chaos that had swept it. It was, therefore, incumbent on him to
be firm, to insist on the thorough execution of his orders and directives,
and to threaten with extreme punishment whoever violated the law. All
of these measures were natural and necessary in Thebes, a city that had
suffered the calamities of war, disease, and chaos before Creon took the
reins of government. The result was the tragic conflict between the tem-
poral requirements and needs of the city, as represented in the character
of Creon, and the divine requirements, as represented in the character of
Antigone. In the end, everyone endured death, despair, and tragedy.
When Creon asked Antigone, “And yet were bold enough to break the
law?” She answered:
Yea, for these laws were not ordained of Zeus,
And she who sits enthroned with gods below,
Justice, enacted not these human laws.
Nor did I deem that thou, a mortal man,
Could’st by a breath annul and override
The immutable unwritten laws of Heaven.
They were not born to-day nor yesterday;
They die not; and none knoweth whence they
Sprang.
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197
198
He isolated me, left me alone, confused me, expelled me, lest I associate
with the faithful; prevented me from those who are jealous on account
of my jealousy. He transformed me on account of my confusion; con-
fused me on account of my estrangement; made me haram (unlawful) on
account of my companionship; disfigured me on account of my praise;
excommunicated me on account of my abandonment; abandoned me
on account of my disclosures (with Him), exposed me on account of my
connection (to Him).26
O Ye! The stranger (gharib) is one whose sun of beauty has set; one
who is estranged from his loved ones and from his censurers; one who
speaks and acts in strange ways. The stranger is one whose descrip-
tion says: One ordeal after another, whose title indicates: One trial after
another; and whose truth shows in him time and again. Oh, mercy on
the stranger! His journey extends without arrival, his tribulation lasts
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without wrong, his hurt intensifies without fail, his suffering magnifies
to no avail.28
Sophocles’ King Oedipus and Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet are con-
sidered to be among the best works on the tragedy of fate. Sophocles’
play reveals how fate took its inevitable course, how all prophecies
were realized, and how all efforts by Oedipus and Jocasta to escape
their dark fate failed. An examination of Iblis’ ordeal from a similar
perspective shows that he also was subject in all his deeds to God’s
preordained fate just like any creature of God’s kingdom, as stated in
the following holy tradition (hadith qudsi, a Muslim tradition in which
God Himself speaks, as opposed to hadith nabawi, an ordinary pro-
phetic tradition):
The pen was the first thing that God created. He said to it, “Write.” The
pen replied: “What do I write?” God said, “The fates of everything until
the Hour of Resurrection. He who dies believing otherwise is not one
of Mine.”29
Al-Hallaj too expressed this truth in a very famous line of poetry about
Iblis: “He dropped him, hands tied, into the open sea and said to him,
Beware! Beware! Do not get wet.”
In other words Iblis was subject in his circumstance, choice, expul-
sion, damnation, and disfigurement to the ordinances of the Divine
Will and to the inescapable fate that He had decreed. He was com-
pelled by God’s wisdom, as they say, and overwhelmed by God’s will,
as attested to by God’s words: “Lo! We have created every thing with a
fate” (Koran 54: 49).
Al-Hallaj wrote the following on Iblis’ submission to his fate as divinely
decreed:
The Truthful, may He be praised, said to Iblis, “The choice is mine, not
yours.” Iblis answered, “All choices, and mine as well, are Yours. You,
Creator, have made the choice for me. If You have forbidden me from
prostrating myself [before Adam] it is because You are the All Invincible.
If I misexpressed myself, it is because you are the All-Hearing. If you
want me to prostrate myself before him I am the obedient. Of all those I
know knowYou, none knows You better than me. Do not blame me, for
I am not to blame. Protect me, Lord; I am all alone.”30
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I must point out here that not everyone who has been wronged by fate
and crushed by predestined decree is a hero. Nor is anyone who finds
himself in a tragic ordeal – such as Iblis, Antigone, and Abraham – a
tragic character. It depends to a large extent on the quality of one’s reac-
tion to one’s ordeal and on the nature of one’s response to one’s destiny.
Antigone’s sister, Ismene, for example, was well aware of the conflict
that led Antigone to her tragic end. However, we cannot under any cir-
cumstances consider Ismene a tragic personality because her response
to that conflict was negative, and she totally surrendered to the flow of
events. That is the reason why she counseled prudence, raised doubts,
and expressed fears, which proves that hers was not the mettle of heroes.
The same applies to the angels whose “mark of them is on their foreheads
from the traces of prostration” (Koran 48: 29).
It would be interesting to make a comparison, here, between Iblis’ atti-
tude and that of Adam. Adam disobeyed God just as did Iblis. If God had
willed Adam not to disobey, Adam would not have disobeyed, nor would
God have reproached him for his disobedience. Adam did not evince any
positive reaction [to God’s reproach] but rather said, “Our Lord! We have
wronged ourselves. If Thou forgive us not and have not mercy on us,
surely we are of the lost!” (Koran 7: 23).
As for the tragic hero who fought his destiny like King Oedipus did,
he would not have said “I have wronged myself,” because he knew full
well that it was his ineluctable fate that had wronged him. Iblis, on the
other hand, responded positively to God’s reproach, saying, “My Lord!
Because Thou hast sent me astray, I verily shall adorn the path of error
for them in the earth “ . . . , thereby denying that he had wronged him-
self or that he was responsible for his destiny and his end. Once again,
al-Tawhidi’s description of the stranger applies to Iblis: “He has no excuse
so he may be excused; he committed no offense so he may be pardoned;
he committed no disgrace so he may be forgiven.”31
Adam was afraid of admitting this truth when God reproached him,
whereas Iblis argued with God and attempted to defend his act and to
justify his choice, although he was aware that there was no escape from
the fate that God had preordained for him. As such, he was comparable
to Oedipus and Jocasta when they attempted to escape their ominous
destiny, even though they knew that their failure was expected and
inevitable. Iblis, however, remained positive, in attitude and deed, even
after he was damned, as proven by his reaction: “Verily, I shall adorn
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the path of error for them in the earth and shall mislead them every one”
(Koran 15: 39).
The heroes of the great works of tragedy in world literature were thus
made of the same mettle as Iblis and their tragic personae were modeled
after him. No wonder that such tragic characters were either in direct
contact with Satan or that they had clear Satanic characteristics. It is no
coincidence either that the great tragic characters are most often drawn
from groups of eccentrics, saboteurs, rebels, infidels, deniers, and mur-
derers. It is for that reason that legal trials abound in famous tragedies.
Examples of authors and such literary works are those of Aeschylus,
Kafka, The Brothers Karamazov, and Camus’ novel The Stranger. It is pos-
sible to consider the argument that took place between Iblis and God in
the Koran as a speedy court-martial in which Iblis was given a chance
to defend himself before God delivered a verdict that was already in
force.
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status, and dignity, even though he knows that such challenge is part of
his fate and that his pride will lead him to destruction, despair, and death.
Oedipus, Antigone, and Iblis came to this end. Adam, on the other hand,
did not possess that kind of pride, and had he been predestined to become
a tragic character he would not have proclaimed, “Our Lord! We have
wronged ourselves. If Thou forgive us not and have not mercy on us,
surely we are of the lost.” From this we deduce that Iblis’ pride did not
derive from empty arrogance, nor from insolence toward God, but rather
was tragic pride that prompted him to seek refuge in God from God’s fate.
Iblis did not change his attitude toward God even after he was expelled
from paradise and damned by God. He still acknowledged God’s omnipo-
tence and was afraid of Him and would not accept another deity but Him
as is evident from the Koranic verses which say: “And the hypocrites are
on the likeness of the devil when he telleth man to disbelieve, then, when
he disbelieveth (Iblis) saith, ’Lo! I am quit of thee. Lo! I fear Allah, the Lord
of the worlds” (Koran 59: 16). Also, on the evidence of Iblis’ answer when
he made an oath before God: “Then, by Thy might, I surely will beguile
them every one, save Thy single minded slaves among them” (Koran 38:
83). Iblis thus demonstrated that nothing was more precious to him than
God’s might, even after he was eternally damned. Moreover, Iblis excluded
God’s devoted servants (“single minded slaves”) from his oath as if he
were trying to prove his appreciation of God and his sincere loyalty to the
Lord of the worlds, even after he was expelled and cursed. Not only was
Iblis an alien but he was also an alien in his alienation as al-Tawhidi stated.
In the conversation that he imagined between Moses and Iblis, al-Hallaj
describes Iblis’ attitude toward God after he received eternal damnation
as follows:
Moses said to Iblis, “Do you mention His name in praise (dhikr)?” Iblis
replied, “O, Moses, the thought does not invoke God’s name. I am men-
tioned and He is mentioned, His mention is my mention and my men-
tion is His mention, can the mentioners be save with one another? My
service to Him is now purer, my time is more free and my praise is more
distinct. In time past it was my good fortune to serve Him, but now I
serve Him for His good fortune.”32
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He (God) said to me, “Prostrate yourself before someone other than I.”
I said, “No one but You.” He said, “I curse you.” I said, “No harm done.
If You draw me near You, then You are You.” He said, “You do that in
arrogance and vainglory.” I said, “Lord! Whoever has known You for
an instant in his lifetime, or has been with You for a moment through-
out his life, or accompanied You in your love for a while, surely can be
proud. Just imagine how much more proud would be one who spent
his whole lifetime with You and who built monuments out of your love.
How many times have I day and night professed your oneness. How
many times have I learned privately and publicly the lessons of your
sanctity and praise? Traditions and signs witness for me, the abodes
know my right and the night and day believe me. Where was Adam
when I was the imam of the angels, the preacher to all the cherubim, and
the leader of your close companions? I have worshipped You since time
immemorial, and You have willed for me since time immemorial. When
the signs of your will appeared, the traces of worship disappeared. The
legist (mujtahid) missed in his judgement. The master lost his high rank
and the arrow of fate (death) unmistakably struck his heart. Whether
I prostrate myself before Adam or not, worship You or not, it is inevi-
table that I return to preordained fate. You have created me of fire and it
is inevitable that I return to fire. “Thereof We created you, and thereunto
We return you (Koran 20: 55).”33
SECTION FOUR
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would, however, complete our picture of him and would reveal his real
and ultimate status in the order of creation. The main reason compelling
me to make such a statement is that tragedy, in its definitive and absolute
sense, cannot exist within the framework of the three Semitic religions.
It is impossible for religion to accept tragedy in its definitive form
because divine providence encompasses the universe completely and
leads it to the ultimate ends that God had chosen for it. That is why it is
natural for religion to claim that it can surpass tragedy, no matter how
afflicting it is, and that it can solve all the complexities involved in it, if
not in this worldly life then in the hereafter. The tragic view of events, for
instance, requires that heroes suffer grave, absolutely irreparable losses,
symbolized often by death or total despair. Heroes are also required to
suffer undeserved and unwanted disaster and torture.
Religion, on the other hand, rejects such a tragic logic and maintains
that the pious will someday be recompensed for the losses they suffer,
just as God compensated Job for the disasters that had befallen him, and
rewarded him for his long patience. Whereas losses suffered by evildoers
are the just punishment they deserve because of their sins and evil deeds,
as indicated by the Koranic verse: “And whoso doeth good an atom’s
weight will see it then, And whoso doeth ill an atom’s weight will see
it then” (Koran 99: 7, 8). Even the tragedy of death is, according to reli-
gion, only but a temporary loss that signifies transition from the temporal
world to the eternal abode. In other words, religion accepts tragedy only
as a transitory, temporary phase. Subsequently, Iblis’ tragedy must be a
temporary one and will someday come to an end.
After this reference to the limitations of the tragic view of Iblis’ charac-
ter, I would like to pose the following question: Why was Iblis ordered to
prostrate himself before Adam? More precisely, why did God put him in
this predicament? The answer is that God wanted to test and try Iblis just
as He did Job and Abraham and other pious men after them. The refer-
ence to Iblis’ trial is clear in what he said to his God: “My Lord! Because
Thou has sent me astray, I verily shall adorn the path of error for them
in the earth,” and “Now, because Thou has sent me astray, verily I shall
lurk in ambush for them on Thy Right Path.” That is, Iblis will lead people
astray, tempt, and test them just as God had sent him astray, tempted,
and tested him. Iblis was an archangel and the orator of the cherubim.
God wanted to test him, and so he ordered him to prostrate himself before
Adam in order to determine his adherence to the essence of Oneness and
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Of all the angels, Iblis was the most knowledgeable of prostration, the
closest to what Is, the most exerting of efforts, the most honoring of
vows, and the closest to the Worshiped One. The angels fell prostrate
before Adam for the purpose of assisting him; Iblis refused to prostrate
himself before Adam because of the long time he had spent observing
God.34
And just as God tested Abraham by asking him to sacrifice the most pre-
cious thing he had for His sake, God similarly tested Iblis by asking him
to sacrifice the dearest thing he had for the sake of his God and Beloved.
One of the characteristics of a religious test is that it thrusts the one who is
tested into a forbidding and unbearable predicament. Consequently, his
reality is distinctly revealed, without distortion or falsification. The main
idea that I would like to present here is that Iblis had successfully passed
the test that God had put to him. This truth becomes evident on the basis
of the following considerations:
2) Just as the divine order transformed the slaying of Isaaq from a mere
vicious crime into a great sacrifice and an unparalleled gift, Iblis’
adherence to his absolute duty transformed his refusal to prostrate
himself before Adam from mere disobedience to a most sublime form
of sanctification a creature has ever given to God.
206
4) Abraham did not behave like an ordinary human being with regard
to his paternal duties but rather behaved in the manner of proph-
ets and saints, thus revealing his reality through the trial. Likewise,
Iblis did not behave like the angels in the face of his partial duties
toward God but followed the conduct of saints, the pious, and the
closest men of God, thus revealing his truth in its full purity and
pristineness.
5) It is clear that divine trial is the cause of the affliction, agony, and
despair that the tested one suffers. Abraham’s strong desire to save
Isaaq and keep him was the cause of his agony and misery. Had it
not been for this intense desire, his test would not have received
much attention, because Abraham would have offered his God
something only slightly precious, something whose loss would not
have been a great disaster. So it was with Iblis’ trial. When God
tried him, Iblis had an intense desire to obey the order of prostra-
tion before Adam, and it was extremely painful for him to sacrifice
such desire for the sake of adhering to the truth of the oneness of
God. Otherwise, Iblis would have sacrificed something for which he
originally had had very little desire. Both Iblis and Abraham knew
that God was testing them and was asking of them the most diffi-
cult and precious sacrifices of all. But no sacrifice was too difficult
for them for the sake of God. For that reason, Iblis refused to pros-
trate himself before Adam, and Abraham rejected all paternal and
human relations.
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208
when he recovered his son and to Job when God gave him back all his
wealth and children a hundredfold.
Since God rewarded Abraham and Job for their patience and adher-
ence to their absolute duty toward Him, we can deduce that He will also
reward Iblis for his success in passing the test and for his sacrifice and will
compensate him for suffering a tragic loss and for enduring hardships,
agony, and estrangement. But if this conclusion is correct, why did, then,
God damn Iblis until the Day of Judgment? The answer is simple: He
damned him until the Day of Judgment because the trial itself required
it. Had Iblis believed that his damnation was temporary and that there
was hope that he would return to paradise, his trial would have lost its
meaning and substance. This is so because his adherence to the reality
of Oneness, despite his total despair of salvation, is the proof of his suc-
cessful passing of the test. This is similar to Abraham’s despair of sav-
ing his son Isaaq. Placing the knife on his son’s neck was solid proof of
Abraham’s passing of the test to which God had subjected him. In other
words, the eternal damnation does not disclose Iblis’ real fate much as it
forms an integral part of his trial.
As for Iblis’ real fate, it had to remain a secret concealed from him until
it was time to divulge it, just as Isaaq’s fate remained a secret concealed
from Abraham until it was proper time to disclose it. Furthermore, Iblis
could not be damned forever, especially after successfully passing the
test, because such a situation would constitute a real and major tragedy
in the universe. Religion’s logic, as I have repeatedly mentioned, never
allows that.
Just as our understanding of Iblis’ character on the level of tragedy does
not explain his total reality, so is the case with our treatment of his charac-
ter on the level of trial and affliction. We must bear in mind, though, that
the level of trial draws us more explicitly and profoundly to his reality
than any of the other above-mentioned levels. In order to comprehend the
total reality of Iblis and his actual place in the universe, we must define his
direct and essential relationship with the divine will. No matter how hard
I looked, I could not find a better expression of Iblis’ relationship with the
divine will than that of Imam al-Maqdisi’s, who said through Iblis:
209
In other words, Iblis was the making of divine will, subject to its decrees
and executor of its demands. When Iblis chose refusal and rebellion, he
only chose what God had chosen for him from the beginning. Iblis was
used by what God had willed for him, caught in the grip of His subjuga-
tion. As such, command and interdiction (al-amr wa-’l-nahy) are null and
void as far as Iblis is concerned, even though the pretext that was used to
expel him was based on command and interdiction.
Further explaining the true position of Iblis and God’s purpose of
expelling him, Imam al-Maqdisi continues to say on behalf of Iblis:
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SECTION FIVE
1) When I posed the question, why did God order Iblis to prostrate him-
self before Adam? I answered it by saying that God wanted to test and
try him as he tested and tried Abraham and Job after him. The new
question that arises before us now is: Why does God test His angels
and his people when He knows everything they divulge or conceal?
Can we, for example, specify any of the divine attributes that calls
upon God to test His people? Rather, to which one of these divine
attributes should we ascribe such a tendency to test people?
3) We have also seen that Iblis was caught in the grip of God’s power
and was totally subject to the fate willed and decreed for him, like
the rest of His creatures. Hence, the effect of divine command and
interdiction is nullified as far as Iblis is concerned. If this be true,
why then did God expel Iblis from paradise on the pretext of com-
mand and interdiction? In addition, God has since eternity predeter-
mined who would go to heaven and who would go to hell. Religious
proofs that support this statement are numerous. I shall cite, by way
of example, only the following holy hadith: “God Almighty seized a
handful and said: this goes to paradise with my blessing, and I care
not. Then He seized another handful and said: this goes to hell, and
I care not.”37
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But despite all that, God revealed scriptures and sent messengers
and charged them with commands and interdictions and distinguished
between halal and haram (lawful and unlawful). What is the benefit of all
this for those who are compelled by His wisdom and who are manipu-
lated by His preordained fate?
4) If God is the Creator of all things and the One who predetermines
good and evil for His people, why then does He want people to
believe that Iblis is the cause of all evil and sin? And why does He
want to burden Iblis with the sins of those He had created evil and
made to do evil? Can we explain this paradox by ascribing it to any of
the well-known attributes of God?
I believe that the divine attribute that we are searching for to answer these
questions is that of cunning (makr: plotting, scheming). Following are
some Koranic verses that illustrate the nature of this attribute:
We also find that some other verses ascribe to God a similar attribute, that
of mocking, as in the following verse: “Allah (Himself) doth mock them,
leaving them to wander blindly on in their contumacy” (Koran 2: 15).
Some verses stated the same meaning without mentioning or specify-
ing divine cunning, as in the following ones:
1) “And let not those who disbelieve imagine that the reins We give
them bodeth good unto their souls. We only give them rein that they
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3) “Lo! The hypocrites seek to beguile Allah, but it is Allah who begui-
leth them” (Koran 4: 142).
In his famous book Qut al-Qulub, Abu Talib al-Makki explains the idea of
divine cunning by tying it clearly to divine testing of people:
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We can state, after this quick review of the idea of divine cunning that
the good will that God had shown Iblis was different from the fate, pre-
dicament, and ending He had willed and harbored for him. That is to
say, God practiced His cunning against Iblis by ordering him outwardly
to prostrate himself before Adam while inwardly Willing him to disobey
the order so that He would have a pretext against him, to do anything He
wished to him, and carry through the fate he had preordained for him.
The order of trial, then, was only an instrument of divine cunning whose
objective was to execute the decrees of divine will and justify them before
His creatures. It will thus all look acceptable to them and they will not
have a pretext against Him for what He has done to them.
As Abu Talib al-Makki has said, there is no purpose to His will and to
His decrees. Divine cunning intervenes to make things appear to people
different from what they actually are, i.e., to make the divine will seem
as if it had objectives, justifications, and reasons. Accordingly, God prac-
ticed His cunning against the angels by making it appear to them as if
Iblis had been expelled from paradise for a notable reason, disobedi-
ence. Had it not been for this cunning arrangement, the angels would
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If someone erred, people would say Iblis made him fall into error. If
somebody forgot something, people would say Iblis made him forget.
If somebody did something wrong, they would say this is Iblis’ doing.
I am thus the bearer of sinners’ offenses, and the bearer of the heavy
burdens of the sinful.42
We have seen how Abu Talib al-Makki associated Abraham’s trial with
divine cunning, because when Abraham was about to fall into the fire,
he completely entrusted himself to God by saying: “Sufficient unto me
is God, my Lord.” God wanted to test Abraham’s adherence to His trust
(tawakkul), so He schemed against him by sending Gabriel to offer him
help. That is to say, God sent Gabriel to entice Abraham to renounce his
trust of God. But Abraham refused Gabriel’s help, passed the test, and the
fire thus became coolness and peace upon Abraham. Put differently, God
had since eternity willed Abraham to be one of the people of Paradise
and one of His pious prophets. He, therefore, tested him so that none of
His creatures would raise objections against Him for the kind of fate and
destiny that He had willed for Abraham.
As for Iblis, God had since eternity wanted him to be the teacher of
Oneness of God in the heavenly host and the teacher of evil and sin on
earth. That is why God tested Iblis and schemed against him so that none
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of His creatures would have a pretext against the miserable destiny that
He had willed for him.
Although God had since eternity decided who would be the people of
Paradise and who would be the people of Hell, He nevertheless sent mes-
sengers, revealed holy scriptures, filled them with command and interdic-
tion, and distinguished between halal and haram. He did that in order to
make it clear to His people that their happiness and misery depended on
their behavior and choices, on following His prophets, and on adhering to
His laws. As a result, they would have no pretext against Him regarding
the fate that He had preordained for them any way. For, “Allah verily send-
eth whom He will astray, and guideth whom He will,” and “He will not be
questioned as to that which He doeth, but they will be questioned” (Koran
21: 23). This means that God’s sending of messengers and holy scriptures
and His distinguishing between halal and haram are no more than tools of
His cunning in order to carry through the decrees He had already willed
for people. This is similar to the situation of the township that God wanted
to destroy, so He ordered its affluent folk to lead a dissolute life and to His
prolonging the good life of some people so they could further indulge in sin
and He would then inflict upon them a humiliating doom. Although Iblis
was compelled by God’s wisdom and was totally powerless and helpless
vis-à-vis His Lord, God did not carry out His will against him and damn
him until after He cunningly tested him by ordering him to lay prostrate
before Adam. It thus appeared to everyone that Iblis was responsible for
his act and therefore deserved that punishment.
We have repeatedly contended that God was the creator of good
and evil, as indicated by the following holy tradition: “God, may He be
exalted, says: there is no deity besides me. I created good and preordained
it. Blessed are those whom I created to do good, created good for them,
and caused them to do good. I am God and there is no deity but I. I cre-
ated evil and preordained it. Woe unto those whom I created to do evil,
created evil for them, and caused them to do evil.”43
It is due to His cunning that people believe the opposite of that and
attribute faults and shameful deeds either to themselves, as Adam did
when he said: “Our Lord! We have wronged ourselves,” or to Iblis’
deception and temptation. It is also God’s cunning that leads people to
ascribe good, justice, and mercy to Him, as Adam did when he said, “If
Thou forgive us not and have not mercy on us, surely we are of the lost!”
In addition to that, it is proper for people, from a practical point of view,
216
to generally believe that God has an enemy, the cursed Iblis, the source
of all evil, error, and sin. Because were they truly to believe that God was
the source of all their disasters and afflictions, their minds would not be
able to endure such fact, they would lose their minds, and disbelieve in
God and his blessings.
Imam al-Maqdisi wrote the following in the name of Iblis:
And now, God has made me the reason for the existence of error, and
the cause of betaking command and interdiction. In reality, there is
no cause for His command, no consequence for His judgment, no
reason for the distancing of His enemies and no relevance to the close-
ness of His saints. God Almighty is not in need of His creatures. He is
self-existent. He is the caretaker of His people. The good deeds of the
doers of good are of no use to Him, nor do the misdeeds of the evil-
doers harm Him. His command was carried out; His judgment was
executed. His pen went dry with what exists in His Kingdom. . . . If He
willed, He would punish; and if He willed, He would pardon. He does
not have to confirm His threats. He alone is the master of His threats.
It is up to Him to punish for no reason or to make happy for no rela-
tion or gain.44
If Adam could ascribe fault to himself or to Iblis who tempted him and
to ask his God for forgiveness and mercy in keeping with Jesus’ counsel:
“Give unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s and unto God that which is
God’s,” to whom should Iblis ascribe his disobedience and refusal? Or as
Iblis himself said, “Since I am Adam’s Iblis, I wonder who is my Iblis?”45
Naturally, Iblis referred his refusal to its real and ultimate source by say-
ing: “Now, because Thou hast sent me astray”, thus giving unto God that
which is God’s, and gave nothing unto Caesar (Adam), because Caesar
owned absolutely nothing as far as Iblis was concerned. And Caesar had
no power or strength to have anything ascribed to him.
If we were to elaborate on a comparison between Adam’s position and
that of Iblis, we would discover that if Iblis was the first tragic hero in
the universe, then Adam was the first opportunist. That is because Adam
refused to take a definite position vis-à-vis the contradiction between the
divine command and the divine will, prompted by a desire for salvation at
any cost, as evidenced by his reply which we have already cited. If it turns
out at the end of time that the divine command is correct and Adam is
217
really responsible for his own disobedience, Adam would have, then, con-
fessed to his guilt and asked for God’s pardon when he said: “Our Lord!
We have wronged ourselves”, thus keeping open the chance of salvation
on this side of the choice. At the same time, if the divine will turns out to
be correct, and Adam is not really responsible for his disobedience, He
would have again saved himself by resigning himself to the will of God
and trusting all to his mercy and forgiveness (like Abraham) in adding: “If
Thou forgive us not and have not mercy on us, surely we are of the lost.”
In other words, when Adam referred the action to himself and assumed
responsibility for his disobedience by saying: “Our Lord! We have wronged
ourselves,” he acted as a free-willist and as such disavowed that God had
preordained that injustice and willed it for him. But, when Adam added: “If
Thou forgive us not and have not mercy on us, surely we are of the lost!”
he acted as a predestinarian clinging to divine mercy which is connected to
divine will, and as such disavowed responsibility for the injustice, because
in this case God would have predetermined since eternity whether He was
going to have mercy on Adam or to punish him. Meanwhile, the injustice
would be God’s pretext against Adam (in case he wanted to punish him in
eternity), and Adam would have no pretext against His Lord. Thus, Adam
tried, out of precaution, to save himself through both free-willism and pre-
destinarianism at one and the same time, since he was not certain which one
would ultimately turn out correct.
As for Iblis, he took a definite position by saying: “Now, because Thou
hast sent me astray,” referring nothing to himself but rather referring
everything to its real source, the divine will. By so doing, Iblis was a sin-
cere predestinarian and did not try to take advantage of free will as Adam
did for his own safety and salvation.
Some legists have refused to ascribe imperfection to divine will. They
contend that Iblis is the source of evil and the creator of sin (macsiyah),46
deeming God too exalted for creating evil and preordaining it for His
people. This opinion (ijtihad) is more in conformity with philosophical
theories that influenced Muslim thinkers than with the purely religious
approach to the subject. Since we are now treating Iblis’ character and
position in the universe on a purely religious level, we cannot adopt the
aforementioned opinion, especially that it attributes to Iblis not only the
ability to distort and to cause mischief but also to create and originate.
This is unacceptable from a religious point of view. If Iblis had wanted to
create sin, God would have been capable of preventing it. Since God did
218
not prevent it, we can then deduce that the existence of sin is in confor-
mity with His eternal will.
5) We have already cited Abu Talib al-Makki’s statement that “the end is
of God’s cunning, which is indescribable, indiscernible, and inscruta-
ble.” This should remind us of the ultimate end that I forecast for Iblis
when I said that God will reward him for passing the divine test and
will return him to Paradise when this universal drama nears its conclu-
sion. Following are the reasons and considerations that have prompted
me to conclude that Iblis’ end will be a happy and satisfactory one:
• Iblis passed God’s test and patiently endured the disaster that befell
him as a result. Therefore, his ultimate reward is guaranteed, as indi-
cated by the holy hadith that states: “God, may He be exalted, said: If
I test one of my believing creatures and he praises Me and patiently
endures My affliction, he shall awaken as free of sin as when his
mother gave birth to him. God will say to His scribes (hafazah): I have
shackled this slave of Mine and tested him, so [you must] reward him
as you used to before the test.”48
• Had it not been for this foreseen happy ending for Iblis, his ending
would have been a real and ultimate tragedy, which cannot be accepted
by religion’s logic, as we have already seen. Since the ultimate end is
of God’s cunning, He made Abraham and Job believe that the result
of their test would be contrary to what it actually was and contrary to
the result that God had wanted it to be. That is to say, the decrees that
God had shown Abraham and Job at the beginning of the test were
different from the ones He had harbored for them regarding its end-
ing. This assumption applies to Iblis, since God’s cunning requires that
Iblis firmly believe that his end will not be anything but miserable and
desperate. We thus deduce that Iblis’ damnation was not an expression
219
of the real end which God had willed for him but was divine cunning
whose objective was to carry out the decrees of His will against him.
Let us suppose for the sake of the argument that I am right about what
I said regarding the reality of Iblis, his end, and his final destiny. What
consequences does such a supposition entail with respect to our personal
view of Iblis?
First, I believe that we must drastically modify our traditional view
of Iblis and effect a crucial change in our conception of his character and
position. Secondly, we must rehabilitate him to his true position: that of
an angel who has wholeheartedly and in all sincerity devoted himself to
the service of his God and who has carried out the decrees of His will with
utmost care and precision. Lastly, we must desist from heaping abuse
and insults on him, forgive him, seek forgiveness for him, and ask people
to think well of him, after we have falsely and slanderously made him
responsible for all faults and abominations.
I feel also that it is my duty to warn you that forgiving Iblis and reha-
bilitating him issue in significant consequences that do not immediately
occur to all. Such a step obliges us to change many of our religious views
and traditional beliefs about this worldly life and the hereafter. In order
to give you a simple idea about the grave consequences that a pardon
of Iblis might entail, I shall quote a funny and beautiful story written by
Tawfiq al-Hakim, “al-Shahid” (“The Martyr”).
Tawfiq al-Hakim relates in his story that Iblis decided one day to turn
to God in repentance and to refrain from wrongdoing so that he could
dedicate himself to doing good and to following the right path. Iblis
went to the Rector of al-Azhar to repent at his hands and embrace The
True Religion (Islam) with his guidance. The following dialogue ensued
between Iblis and the Rector of al-Azhar:
220
“Then to whom should I go? Are you not the chiefs of The Religion?
How then do I reach God? Is that not what those who want to draw
near God do?”
The Rector of al-Azhar kept silent for a moment, scratched his beard,
and said: “You have good intentions. There is no doubt about that! But
despite all that, I must tell you frankly that my specialty is to lift high
the word of Islam and to preserve the glory of al-Azhar. It is not my
specialty to put my hand in yours.”
“Yes, indeed! But your disappearance from the earth would bring down
pillars and shake walls, would obliterate features and confuse lineaments,
221
would efface colors and destroy traits. Virtue has no meaning without the
existence of vice . . . no meaning for right without wrong, for good without
bad, or white without black, or light without darkness, or good without
evil. Only through your darkness can people see God’s light. Your pres-
ence on earth is necessary so long as earth remains a place of descent for
those sublime attributes that God has bestowed on his human creatures!”
“Yes! You must remain cursed until the end of time. If damnation
were removed from you, then everything would collapse.”
“I am a Martyr! . . . I am a Martyr! . . . ””
222
PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
1. Delivered at the Asia-Africa Institute of the University of Hamburg, 23 June
2005, on the occasion of receiving an Honorary Doctorate from the Faculty of
the University.
2. Hasan Hanafi, Introduction to the Science of Istighrab (Occidentalism), Al-Dar
Al-Fanniya, Cairo, 1991 (881 pages).
3. Martin Bernal, Black Athena: The Afro-Asiatic Roots of Classical Civilization, Free
Association Books, London, 1987.
4. For Hanafi’s reply see the Egyptian weekly magazine Al-Musawwar, 16 May
1997. For ‘Asfour’s critical assessment see Al-Hayat newspaper, 7 July 1997.
5. Ian Buruma and Avishai Margalit, Occidentalism: The West in the Eyes of its
Enemies, Penguin Press, New York, 2004.
6. See Adonis’ collection of essays published under the title: Fatiha li Nihayat
al-Qarn, Dar Al-‘Awda, Beirut, 1980, pp. 212–240. Adonis confuses on purpose
the two senses of “modernity” in Arabic, (Hadatha), i.e., modernity in general
and modernism as a literary movement of the twentieth century.
7. See my essay, “Islamic Fundamentalism Reconsidered: A Critical Outline of
Problems, Ideas and Approaches,” South Asia Bulletin: Comparative Studies of
South Asia, Africa and the Middle East, vol. 13, no. 1–2, 1993 and vol. 14, no. 1,
1994.
8. This point is also noted and discussed by the British author and critic Jonathan
Raban in his book, My Holy War: Dispatches from the Home Front, New York
Review of Books Inc., New York, 2006, pp. 36–39.
9. Jean Baudrillard, The Spirit of Terrorism, Verso, London, 2002.
10. Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Empire, Harvard University Press,
Cambridge, 2001.
11. Salmna Rushdie, “In Good Faith: A Pen Against the Sword,” Newsweek,
12 February 1990.
12. Jonathan Raban, Arabia through the Looking-Glass, Fontana/Collins, Glasgow,
1980, p. 19.
13. William Empson, Seven Types of Ambiguity, Penguin Books, London, 1995 (first
published, 1930).
14. Daryush Shayegan, Cultural Schizophrenia: Islamic Societies Confronting the West,
Al-Saqi Books, London, 1992, p. 4.
223
15. Malise Ruthven, Islam in the World, Oxford University Press, New York, 1984,
p. 111.
16. Leila Ahmed, A Border Passage: From Cairo to America – A Woman’s Journey,
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 1999, pp. 127–28.
17. Seven Types of Ambuguity, p. 24.
18. Stuart Chase, The Tyranny of Words, Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1938.
19. Ibid.
20. Charles Kay Ogden and Ivor Armstrong Richards, The Meaning of Meaning,
Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1956 (first published 1923).
21. Arabia Through the Looking-Glass, pp. 18–19.
22. See his The Specter of Marx.
23. See Jacques Derrida, Dissemination, University of Chicago Press, 1972.
24. Edward Said, Orientalism, Vintage Books, New York, 1979, p. 321.
25. The Spirit of Terrorism, pp. 77–79.
26. Hadi Al-‘Alawi’s articles on the subject (in Arabic) are to be found in the
Palestinian weekly magazine Al-Hurriyah, Damascus, 9 March 1988, 29 July
1990 and 3 March 1993. See also my book in Arabic: Beyond the Tabooing
Mentality: Reading the Satanic Verses, Dar Al-Mada, Damascus, 1997, pp. 53–109,
414–422.
27. Al-Hilal Books No. 465, Cairo 1989. See also Beyond the Tabooing Mentality,
pp. 85–107.
CHAPTER 2
1. Our translation of the Arabic text. The excellent English translation by Roger
Allen does not succeed here in expressing the actual cultural distance that
separates the two speakers as can be grasped in the original text.
CHAPTER 3
224
225
the same kind of mistakes which the western scholar writing on the Orient
made. In his critique of Edward Said, Sadik took a leftist position, defend-
ing Marx against Said’s ‘bourgeoise’ critique of Marx, with its priviledging
of the epistemological/mental/superstructure, over the economic base/insti-
tutions. In fact the journal Khamsin in which Sadik’s article was published,
has the full title, Khamsin: Journal of revolutionary socialists of the Middle East,
indicating its leftist orientation. But regardless of its leftist leanings, Sadik’s
critique of Said was fair-minded, and was not overtly ideological to the point
of bias. In fact Sadik was quite right in pointing out Said’s over-emphasis on
the ‘epistemological’, at the expense of the economic-institutional, in his anal-
ysis of the impact of Orientalism on colonized states. As for Sadik’s Marxist
philosophy, a similar assessment was made by the historian of Islamic phi-
losophy, Majid Fakhry (2004, p. 391) when he wrote: “A serious attempt at
expounding and defending Marxist doctrine is contained in a book written
by a Syrian intellectual, Sadik J. Al-‘Azm, entitled Critique of Religious Thought
(1969). In this book, Al-‘Azm examines the ‘supernaturalism’ of traditional
thought and argues that it is incompatible with the modern scientific outlook
. . . The author’s viewpoint is identified with the ‘scientific, materialist concep-
tion of the world and its evolution,’ reducible according to him, to dialectical
materialism which marks the culmination of the whole scientific and philo-
sophical evolution of human thought.”
13. For a more detailed account of Zakariyya’s views on Muslim intellectuals in
general, see Zakariyya (2005).
PART TWO
CHAPTER 5
1. Sussan Siavoshi: “Daniel Pipes, The Hidden Hand: Middle East Fears
of Conspiracy.” (Review). IJMES, vol. 30, pp. 272–274, 1998, quotations
pp. 272/274.
2. Farideh Farhi: “Daniel Pipes, The Hidden Hand: Middle East Fears of
Conspiracy.” (Review). IJMES, vol. 31, pp. 454–457, 1999, quotations
pp. 454/457.
3. E.g. Rebecca Moore: “Reconstructing Reality: Conspiracy Theories about
Jonestown.” Journal of Popular Culture, vol. 36, no. 2, pp. 200–220, 2002, citation
p. 203, also to be found as prepublication on the internet: http://jonestown.
sdsu.edu/AboutJonestown/Articles/conspiracy.htm – (21 June 2005).
4. Paul Taylor: “Reuters, 11 April 2003”, Baghdad’s Easy Fall Fuels Arab Conspiracy
Theories. http://www.drumbeat.mlaterz.net/April%202003/Arab%20con-
spiracy%20theories%20fueled%20041103a.htm – (15 June 2005).
5. MEMRI (The Middle East Media Research Institute): Special Report 08. Januar
2002, p. 1.
226
227
20. Daniel Pipes: The Hidden Hand: Middle East Fears of Conspiracy, 2nd ed.,
New York, 1998.
21. The Hidden Hand, p. 10.
22. The Hidden Hand, p. 377/378.
23. Daniel Pipes: Conspiracy: How the Paranoid Style Flourishes and Where It Comes
from. New York, 1997.
24. Conspiracy, pp.14–15.
25. Conspiracy, pp.144–146.
26. “Reconstructing Reality”, p. 209.
27. Cf. “Pipes gives us the profile of a conspiracy theorist and by inference the
profile of a Muslim Middle Easterner. this person, according to the author,
is humorless, politically extremist, self-centered, and non-analytical [. . .].”
(Siavoshi: “Daniel Pipes” p. 273.) In my opinion, the hypothesis that lacking
humour is a kind of defining characteristic of Islamists or fanatics in general
is a projection.
28. The German title is “Lexikon der Verschwörungstheorien” (2nd ed. available
in 2004).
29. Jaworski: “Verschwörungstheorien”, cf. p. 15: “Der Verlockung, sich von
einem grenzenlosen Entlarvungseifer hinreißen zu lassen, hat auch Daniel
Pipes nicht ganz widerstehen können.”
30. Hidden Hand, p. xi. Pipes quotes Laqueur that conspiracist-terrorists are
“neither funny nor tragic”, so they are lacking a sense of humour (Conspiracy,
p. 26). I think this reflects on the researcher’s state of mind after the initial
stage of fascination.
31. Daniel Pipes and Hilal Khashan: “Diana and Arab Conspiracy”, Weekly
Standard, 10 November 1997. http://www.danielpipes.org/article/290 –
(15 June 2005).
32. There are other concepts that might work in the same way as well. You could
reduce the methodological problems in other fields of research if you decide to
abandon conspiracism and the associated problems of falsehood, modernity
etc. whereever you do not really need this concept. E.g. modern magic and
witchcraft are discussed in terms of conspiracism by several ethnographers in:
Transparency and Conspiracy, Harry G. West and Todd Sanders (eds), Durham,
London: Duke University Press, 2003. A recently published book concentrates
on intrigues as a literary device and mentions conspiracism of global scale
under the heading “Weltintrigen” (“world intrigues”). Cf. Peter von Matt: Die
Intrige: Theorie und Praxis der Hinterlist, München, Wien: Hanser, 2006, Chapter
xxvii: “Der Weltintrigant”, pp. 245–250. Von Matt characterises the imagined
world intrigues as counterdrafts to the world of science (p. 245).
33. Kapferer argues against the “psychiatrisation de la rumeur”, Rumeurs,
pp. 19–22.
34. Daniel Hellinger quotes Anita Waters’ recommendation “that we reserve
judgement on the truth of conspiracy theories and employ an ethnosociologi-
cal approach.” Daniel Hellinger: “Paranoia, Conspiracy, and Hegemony in
228
CHAPTER 6
1. The term “conspiracism” is perhaps most relevant here; thus its prominence
ahead of competing terms such as “conspiracy theories”, “conspiracy theo-
rizing”, or “conspiracy rhetoric”. “Conspiracism” implies a broader, yet, for
the purposes of this discussion, a more precise definition that encompasses
both the trend of developing “conspiracy theories” and the use of “conspiracy
rhetoric”. In effect, it is the act of using conspiracy theories, for whatever pur-
pose. By implication “conspiracism” covers a broad set of conspiracist actors
(the state, political elites, political leaderships, social forces, and marginalized
or disenfranchised individuals, among others). Arabic language uses the term
naz ariyyah al–mu’ã marah to apply both literally to a “conspiracy theory” and
also to “conspiracism” in the sense meant here, even though there is no exact
Arabic equivalent for “conspiracism”.
2. This is especially true of the sequel to his first book (Ostrovsky, 1994) where
the claims and allegations he makes border, at times, on the absurd. The book
also provides greater detail on his dismissal from Mossad as a case officer,
which he effectively blames on an internal conspiracy against him.
3. “Arab Nationalism here is taken to be a sense of shared, secular identity
among peoples considering themselves to have a common sense of ‘Arab’
ethnos, developing initially out of the works of (often Christian) intellectuals,
including George Antonius, Nasif al-Yaziji and Butrus al-Bustani, and later
developed by more politically–active individuals such as Michel ’Aflaq, the
Damascene Christian founder of the Ba’ath Party which would later rule
Syria (1963–) and Iraq (1968–2003). Under an ideological conglomeration that
would later become known as ‘Nasserism’, the Egyptian leader Gamal abd
al-Nasser (president 1954–1970) became the leading figure in the Arab World
– he was at his popular political peak from 1956 to 1967 – and a key espouser
229
PART THREE
CHAPTER 7
1. M. Thalib and Haris Fajar, Dialog Bung Karno-A.Hassan (Jakarta: Sumber Ilmu,
1985).
2. Nurcholish Madjid, Islam, Kemodernan dan Keindonesiaan (Bandung: Mizan,
1989); M. Rasjidi, Koreksi terhadap Drs. Nurcholish Madjid tentang Sekularaisasi
(Jakarta: Bulan Bintang, 1972); Bachtiar Effendy, Islam dan Negara: Transformasi
Pemikiran dan Praktik Politik Islam di Indonesia (Jakarta: Paramadina, 1998);
Allan Samson, “Indonesian Islam since the New Order” in Readings on Islam
in Southeast Asia, compiled by Ahmad Ibrahim, Sharon Siddique and Yasmin
Hussain (Singapore: ISEAS, 1985), p. 167; Harun Nasution, Islam Ditinjau
dari Berbagai Aspeknya (Jakarta: UI Press, 1986); Abdurrahman Wahid, “The
Nahdlatul Ulama and Islam in Present Day Indonesia” in Taufiq Abdullah
and Sharon Siddique (eds.) Islam and Society in Southeast Asia (Singapore:
ISEAS, 1988), pp. 175–185.
3. Ridwan Saidi, Menggugat Gerakan Pembaruan Keagamaan (Jakarta: SIP, 1995).
4. Daud Rasyid, “Meluruskan Akidah, Menangkal Muktazilah” in Saidi,
Menggugat, pp. 240–243.
5. www.Islamlib.com; Gatra, 1 December 2001.
6. Among the Radios; Radio Attahiriyah FM (Jakarta), Radio Muara FM (Jakarta),
Radio Star FM (Tangerang), Radio Ria FM (Depok), Radio Smart (Manado),
Radio DMS (maluku), Radio Unisi (Yogya), Radio PTPN (Solo), Radio Mara
(Bandung), Radio Prima FM (Aceh).
7. For DDII, see R.William Liddle, Islam, Politik dan Modernisasi (Jakarta: Pustaka
Sinar Harapan, 1997), p. 37; Liddle, Media Dakwah Scripturalism: One Form of
Islamic Political Thought and Action in New Order Indonesia, cf., Greg Barton,
Gagasan Islam Liberal di Indonesia (Jakarta: Paramadina, 1999), p. 33.
8. Adian Husaini, Islam Liberal: Sejarah, Konsepsi, Penyimpangan dan Jawabannya
(Jakarta: Gema Insani Press, 2002); Adnin Armas, Pengaruh Kristen-Orientalis
terhadap Islam Liberal (Jakarta: Gema Insani Press, 2003); Hartono A. Jaiz,
Menangkal Bahaya JIL & FLA (Jakarta: Pustaka al-Kautsar, 2004).
9. Husaini, Islam Liberal, pp. 81–221; Armas, Pengaruh, pp. 23–98; Jaiz, Menangkal,
pp. 27–50.
230
10. Charlez Kurzman (ed.), Wacana Islam Liberal, Pemikiran Islam Kontemporer
tentang Isu-isu Global (Jakarta: Paramadina, 2001).
11. Budhy Munawar Rahman, “Mengembalikan Kerukunan Umat Beragama” in
Republika, 24 June 2000; Sukidi, “Teologi Inklusif Cak Nur”, Kompas, 2001.
12. Husaini, Islam Liberal, p. 130.
13. Ibid.
14. Tempo, 19–25 November 2001.
15. Armas, Pengaruh, pp. 32–34.
16. Compare with Ulil Abshar Abdallah, “Menyegarkan Kembali Pemahaman
Islam” in Kompas, 18 November 2002.
17. See Ibid.
18. Armas, Pengaruh, pp. 32–33.
19. Ibid.
20. Ibid.
21. Ibid.
22. Husaini, Islam Liberal, p. 171.
23. See www.islamlib.com. 2001; Armas, Pengaruh, pp. 3–22.
24. Armas, Pengaruh.
25. See Husaini, Islam Liberal, p. 6.
26. Jaiz, Menangkal Bahaya, pp. 54–55.
27. Husaini, Islam Liberal, pp. 13–14.
28. Jaiz, Menangkal Bahaya, pp. 18–26; 27–38; 87–100; 143–165;245–251; 288–290;
Husaini, Islam Liberal, pp. 1–40; 81–128; 169–200.
29. Husaini, Islam Liberal, p. 110 and p. 122.
30. Iskandar P. Nugraha, Mengikis Batas Timur dan Barat: Gerakan Theosofi dan
Nasionalisme Indonesia (Jakarta: Komunitas Bambu, 2001), pp. 47–62.
31. Husaini, Islam Liberal, pp. 123–124.
32. Ibid.
33. Sidik Jatnika, Gerakan Zionis Berwajah Melayu (?, 2001), p. 196.
34. Cf. Husaini, Islam Liberal, pp. 122–123.
35. Compare with Todd D. Nelson, The Psychology of Prejudice (Boston: Allyn and
Bacon, 2002) pp. 7–9; see also Calvin S. Hall and Lindsay Gardner, Psikologi
Kepribadian (Yogya: Penerbit Kanisius, 1978), pp. 245–248.
CHAPTER 8
1. I would like to thank Schirin Fathi and Christian Oesterheld for their com-
ments on this paper. All remaining errors and mistakes are of course in my
own responsibility.
2. For an overview on the debates of Orientalism cf. MacFie (2000).
3. This paper is not so much concerned with content-related aspects of Indonesian
violence. For a qualitative discussion of publications on violence in Indonesia
cf. Purdue (2004).
4. KITLV Collections Library (2005), http://www.kitlv.nl/home/Library/.
231
5. For an introduction into the modern history of insular Southeast Asia, includ-
ing Indonesia, cf. Tarling (2001).
6. For an introduction into the debates on Sino-Malay literature cf. for example
Lombard (1990) and Maier (1990).
7. For a contemporary Indonesian rendition of that war cf. Wiwi Kusliah
(1999).
8. The publication of 1936 is a translation of a German-language book of 1932.
9. A good impression of Indonesian perceptions of this period can be obtained
from the reports in the press. Cf. Andi Suwirta (2000) for a study of the newspa-
pers Merdeka (Jakarta) and Kedaulatan Rakyat (Yogyakarta), from 1945 to 1947.
10. For an Indonesian account of the importance of the Renville agreement for
Indonesian independence cf. for instance Tobing (1986).
11. For a more detailed discussion of the concept of “Pax neerlandica” cf. Moedjanto
(2003).
12. Statistisches Bundesamt (1993, p. 44).
13. This book is the result of an exploratory journey of the author to vari-
ous European Orientalist institutions as well as to a number of countries
in the Muslim world. It features a theoretical discussion of the concepts of
Orientalism and Occidentalism, as well as a detailed account of the specific
histories of Islamic studies in Europe and the US, by country and institution.
14. Cf. Cribb (1990).
15. For aspects of that state violence cf. e.g. Cribb (2000) and Siegel (1998).
16. Purdue relates here to Coppel (2001).
17. For a critical analysis of the research agenda of the Cornell school cf. Philpott
(2000).
CHAPTER 9
1. I would like to thank Arndt Graf for many invaluable suggestions and hours
of intensive discussions.
2. Ali Banuazizi in “Letter from the President” in: Middle East Studies Association
Newsletter, May 2005: 3.
3. The past three quotes have been taken from http://www.aljazeerah.info/
Opinion%20editorials/2003%20Opinion%20Editorials/May/ consulted on
3 June 2005.
4. http://web.archive.org/web/20050326085210/http:/www.arabmediawatch.
com/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=436, last accessed April
18, 2010.
5. In a letter from Yigal Carmon to Juan Cole, dated 8 November 2004 and to
be found under Tuesday, 23 November 2004, “Intimidation by Israeli-Linked
Organization Aimed at US Academic – MEMRI tries a SLAPP” on Juan
Cole’s weblog: http://www.juancole.com/2004_11_01_juancole_archive.
html, consulted 4 June 2005.
232
6. Doing research on this paper, I contacted the MEMRI office in Berlin in order
to acquire firsthand information, particularly as this was used as a major point
of critique on part of MEMRI when confronting their critics. There were three
or four exploratory phone conversations with Mr. Jochen Müller and Mr.
Wahied Wahdat-Hagh in early to mid-June 2005. When subsequently there
is talk of conversations with or information obtained from MEMRI staff in
Berlin, reference is always to these phone conversations.
7. Phone conversation with Mr. Yigal Carmon on 20 June 2005, approx. 5–6 pm
Hamburg time. This and all following reference to Mr. Carmon’s views are
based on this phone conversation and ensuing email correspondence, until
otherwise noted.
8. For example: “An Israeli center said to be specialized in Mid Eastern studies
was opened in the occupied Iraqi capital Baghdad, in a provocative move
seen by Iraqi academics as the beginning of an Israeli scheme to infiltrate the
Iraqi society. ‘Israel opened its center on 1 August at a large rented building
in Abu Nawaas St. overlooking The Tigris river,’ they told IslamOnline.net
Friday, 15 August. The sources, who requested anonymity, said that the center
has already started operation, noting that it was the first Israeli center operat-
ing publicly in Baghdad since its downfall on 9 April. The heavily guarded
building, they said, obtained work permits from the U.S. occupation author-
ity in Iraq and the Pentagon. The Iraqis sources said the center is affiliated
to the Washington-based MEMRI (short for the Middle East Media Research
Institute), an Israeli association set up five years ago, with offshoots in
London, Berlin and West Jerusalem.” Reactions among Iraqi intellectuals were
sampled, among them: “Israel’s underground goals in the Middle East are not
a secret; this center is, in effect, a façade for intelligence and security bodies
orchestrated by the Mossad (Israel’s intelligence service)” . . . The academic
urged the U.S.-handpicked interim Iraqi Governing Council to immediately
shut down the Israeli center in Baghdad ‘because it will penetrate our security.
. . . It is breaking our hearts to see the Israeli Mossad in Bahdad, the citadel of
Arabs’, . . . ‘Israel will never fulfill its much-pursued dream of establishing a
(Jewish) state from the Euphrates to the River Nile as long as the Arab nation
continues to give birth to heroes every day’ ”. Quoted in: http://www.islam-
online.net/English/News/2003-08/16/article02.shtml, last consulted on 22
June 2005.
9. It should be noted that since the presentation of this paper there has been an
overhaul of the German web presence of MEMRI. It would be immodest to
see a causal relationship to my paper, but it is conspicuous that some of the
recurrently criticized issues have been addressed.
10. For example: the Meyerhoff Foundation supports a project called ELEM –
Youth in Distress in Israel – part of the Schusterman Foundation’s mission
statement reads: “The Charles and Lynn Schusterman Family Foundation
is dedicated to helping the Jewish people flourish by supporting pro-
grams throughout the world that spread the joy of Jewish living, giving
233
234
23. See for more info the articles on MEMRI by Whitaker, Kirchner and also
http://www.nationmaster.com/encyclopedia/memri. consulted on 20
May 2005. The archived site can be found under http://web.archive.org/
web/19990220054656/www.MEMRI.org/about.html. Last consulted on 16
June 2005.
24. As quoted in a recently published pamphlet in German (translations are mine),
whose purpose seems to advocate the new emphases of MEMRI. MEMRI 2005
Aus arabischen Medien – Gesellschaftskritische Stimmen im Nahen und Mittleren
Osten, Berlin: iz3w und MEMRI.
25. Dr. Jochen Müller of MEMRI Berlin in stated phone conversation with me.
26. MEMRI Special Dispatch, 31 März 2005, “Al-Sharq Al-Awsat: Interview
zur Arbeit von MEMRI und zu Scheich Al-Qaradawi”. I could not find an
English version of this interview and thus provide the original German ver-
sion here: “Direkt oder indirekt diene Memri den Arabern sogar, indem es
die irreführenden arabischen Stimmen, auf ihre Irrtümer hinweise und die
positiven Stimmen fördere. Auf diese Weise, so Carmon, würde deutlich, dass
‘ja nicht alle Araber wie Osama Bin Laden oder Zarqawi sind’.”
CHAPTER 10
1. Translated from the Arabic by Dr. Mansour Ajam, this essay was originally
delivered as a lecture at the Arab Cultural Club, Beirut, Lebanon, 10 December
1965, and shortly after at al-Muntada al-Ijtima’i (the Social Club) in Damascus,
Syria. An abridged version appeared in the monthly journal Hiwar (Beirut,
January 1966). See also the journal of the Arab Cultural Club, al-Thaqafah
al-cArabiyyah No.2, February 1966. Reprinted in my book Naqd al-Fikr al-Dini
(Critique of Religious Thought), Tali’a Publications, first printing, Beirut 1969.
Texts, views, and ideas marginal to and/or marginalized in Islam’s traditional
grand narrative have been intentionally brought center stage in this lecture.
The heavy rhetorical lecture form was maintained on purpose (author’s note).
2. The translation of the Koran used in this English translation of Al-Azm’s arti-
cle is that of Mohammed Marmaduke Pickthall, The Meaning of the Glorious
Koran, Penguin, a Mentor book (no date). (Translator’s note).
3. This derivation of the name “Iblis”from “Iblas”was really an arbitrary fab-
rication of the Egyptian author and thinker Abbas Mahmoud Al-‘Aqqad in
order to Arabize the word “Iblis” and work around its manifest connection
to “Diabolos”. To the best of my knowledge the fabrication and derivation are
baseless. See ‘Aqqad’s book “Iblis”, Kitab Al-Yawm, Published by Dar Akhbar
Al-Yawm, Cairo, 1955 (author’s note).
4. Imam Jamal al-Din ibn al-Jawzi Talbis Iblis, Ed. Muhammad Munir
al-Dimashqi, Al-Nahdah Publishing House, Cairo, 1928.
5. Ibid., pp. 39–44, 65, 73, 82–83.
6. Ibid., pp. 164–165.
235
236
falls completely short of reaching the status of tragedy, and his character
remains well below that of the tragic hero for the reasons mentioned above.
23. Taflis Iblis, p. 15.
24. Sophocles, The Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1977, p. 321.
25. Ibid., p. 349.
26. “Tasin al-Azal wa-’l-Iltibas”
27. Taflis Iblis, pp. 36, 37.
28. al-Isharat al-Ilahiyyah, Ed. Abd al-Rahman Badawi (Cairo, 1950), pp. 80–82.
29. Shaykh Muhammad al-Madani, al-Ittihafat al-Saniyyah fi ’l-Ahadith ’l-Qudsiyyah
(Haidarabad, 1258 A.H.), p. 87.
30. “Tasin al-Azal wa-’l-Iltibas”.
31. al-Isharat al-Ilahiyyah, p. 81.
32. “Tasin al-Azal wa-’l-Iltibas”
33. Taflis Iblis, pp. 21–22.
34. “Tasin al-Azal wa-’l-Iltibas”
35. Taflis Iblis, p. 13.
36. Ibid., pp. 22–23.
37. al-Ittihafat al-Saniyya fi ’l-Ahadith al-Qudsiyya, p. 68.
38. Tafsir al-Tabari, vol. 1, pp. 301–302.
39. Ibid., p. 303.
40. Ibid., vol. 7, pp. 421–423.
41. Qut al-Qulub (Food for the Hearts), vol. 1, p. 229.
42. Taflis Iblis, p. 36.
43. al-Ittihafat al-Saniyya fi ’l-Ahadith al-Qudsiyya, p. 71.
44. Taflis Iblis, pp. 38–39.
45. Ibid., p. 16.
46. Tafsir al-Tabari, vol. 1, pp. 477–488, 508
47. al-Ittihafat al-Saniyya fi ’l-Ahadith al-Qudsiyya, p. 4.
48. Ibid., p. 10.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
1. We examined and compiled the bibliographic data mostly from library records.
This is the reason why several articles are listed without page numbers.
237
based on his own handlist, compiled by Karin Hörner and Tanja Strube
BOOKS
1966
، الطبعة الثالثة.١٩٦٦ ، منشورات اجلامعة األميركية: " بيروت، "دراسات في الفلسفة الغربية احلديثة
.١٩٧٩ دار العودة: بيروت
(Studies in Modern Western Philosophy, Beirut: American University of
Beirut Publications, 1966.)
1967
1968
دار: دمشق، الطبعة اخلامسة.١٩٦٨ ، منشورات نزار قباني: بيروت، ""في احلب واحلب العذري
.٢٠٠١ ، املدى
(Of Love and Arabic Courtly Love, Beirut: Nizar Kabbani Publications,
1968.)
.١٩٧٤ ، الطبعة العاشرة، ١٩٦٨ ، دار الطليعة: بيروت، ""النقد الذاتي بعد الهزمية
(Self Criticism after the Defeat, Beirut: Tali’a Publications, 1968.)
1969
، الطبعة العاشرة، ١٩٨٢ ، الطبعة اخلامسة، ١٩٦٩ ، دارالطليعة: بيروت، ""نقد الفكر الديني
.١٩٩٨
(Critique of Religious Thought, Beirut: Tali’a Publications, 1969.)
239
1970
1972
1973
1975
1977
1978
1980
240
1981
1990
1991
العربية: تونس، ) محمد بن احمودة، اثر الثورة الفرنسية في فكر النهضة ( مع مصطفى التواتي
.١٩٩١ ، محمد علي احلامي
(The Impact of the French Revolution on the Idea of al-Nahda, Tunis:
Al-Arabiya, 1991.)
1992
.١٩٩٢ ، رياض الريس للكتب والنشر: بيروت/ لندن، ""ذهنية التحرمي سلمان رشدي وحقيقة األدب
الطبعة.١٩٩٧ ، الطبعة الثالثة.١٩٩٤ ، دار املدى: دمشق، الطبعة الثانية مع ردود النقاد وتعليقاتهم
.٢٠٠٢ ، الرابعة
(The Tabooing Mentality: Salman Rushdie and the Truth of Literature,
London/Beirut: Riad El-Rayyes Books, 1992.)
English Translation: Themental Taboo: Salman Rushdie and the Truth
within Literature, London: Qubrus, 1992.
241
Farsi translation:
.١٩٩٩ ، انتشارات سنبلة: هامبورغ، "سلمان رشدي وحقيقة در ادبيات" ترجمة تراب حق شناس
1993
1995
1997
مركز الدراسات واملعلومات: القاهرة، " حتديد نقدي للمشكالت واألفكار واملداخل: "األصولية االسالمية
.١٩٩٧ ، القانونية حلقوق االنسان
(Islamic Fundamentalism: a Critical Outline of Problems, Ideas and
Approaches, Cairo: Center for Legal Information and Studies about Human
Rights, 1997.)
الطبعة، ١٩٩٧، دار املدى: دمشق، " قراءة "اآليات الشيطاني َة" ر ّد وتعقيب: "ما بعد ذهنية التحرمي
.2001 الثانية
(Reading the Satanic Verses: a Reply to Critics, includes the whole debate
over “Salman Rushdieand the Truth of Literature”, Damascus: Al-Mada
Publications, 1997.)
1998
.١٩٩٨ ، مركز الدراسات واملعلومات القانونية حلقوق اإلنسان: القاهرة، ""العلمانية واملجتمع املدني
(Secularism, Civil Society and Other Essays, Cairo: Center for Legal
Information and Studies about Human Rights, 1998.)
242
1999
.٢٠٠٠ ، الطبعة الثانية، ١٩٩٩ ، دار الفكر: دمشق، ) "ما العوملة؛" ( مع حسن حنفي
(What is Globalization? Damascus: Dar Al-Fikr, 1999.)
2004
2005
ARTICLES
1964
ص، ٩٠ عدد،١٩٦٤ ، ) بونيو ( حزيران، ) املجلة ( القاهرة، ""نظريات الزمان في فلسفة كنط
.٣٧–٢٤
(“Kant’s Theories of Space”, The Review, Cairo, 90, 1964, June, pp.€24–37.)
1965
243
1966
.١٠٩–١٠٦ ص، ١٢٠ عدد، ١٩٦٦ ديسمبر، ) املجلة ( القاهرة، ""املعجم الفلسفي
(“The Philosophical Dictionary”, The Review, Cairo, 120, 1966,
December, pp. 106–109.)
ص،١٩٦٦، ٢٩ عدد، أكتوبر، ) مجلة الكتاب العربي ( القاهرة، ""رأي في املصطلحات الفلسفية
.٥٩–٥٩
(“An Opinion about Technical Philosophical Terms”, The Arab Review of
Books, Cairo, 29, 1966, October, pp. 51–59.)
1967
-١٦٦ ص١٩٦٧ ، اجلامعة األميركية في بيروت، كتاب العيد، " "نظريات الزمان املبكرة في فلسفة كنط
.١٩٣–١٦٦ .١٩٣
(“The Early Theories of Time in the Philosophy of Kant”, Festival Book,
American University of Beirut, 1967, pp. 166–193.)
244
1968
1969
.٣٣–٣٥ ص،١٩٦٩ ، ٦ عدد، ) مواقف (بيروت، ""خمس مالحظات على ثورة يوليو
(“Five Comments on the July 23 Revolution”, Mawaqif, Beirut, 6, 1969,
pp. 25–33.)
٧٩.–٤٥ ص،١٩٦٩ ، ٥ عدد، ) مواقف ( بيروت، ""نحو فهم أفضل للفكرة الصهيونية
(“Towards a Better Understanding of the Zionist Idea”, Mawaqif,
Beirut, 5, 1969, July–August, pp. 45–79.)
1970
.٤٩–٣ ص،١٩٧٠ كانون الثاني، دراسات عربية، ""العرب والنظرة املاركسية إلى املسالة اليهودية
(“The Arabs and the Marxist View of the Jewish Question”, Dirasat
Arabiya, Beirut, 1970, January, pp. 3–49.)
1972
ص، ١٩٧٢ أيار، ٩ عدد، شؤون فلسطينية، " النصوص األساسية: "الفكرة الصهيونية
.١٥٥–١٥٢
(“The Zionist Idea: The Basic Texts”, Palestine Affairs, Beirut, 9, 1972,
May, pp. 152–155.)
، ١٩٧٢ حزيران، ١٠ عدد، شؤون فلسطينية، "١٩٦٧ "كتب أجنبية حول معركة اخلامس من حزيران
.١٨٣–١٦٠ص
(“Foreign Books about the June 5 War”, Palestine Affairs, Beirut, 10,
1972, June, pp. 160–183.)
.٠٣٣-٢٠٠ ص، ١٩٧٢ آب، ١٢ عدد، شؤون فلسطينية، ""املاركسية والدولة الصهيونية
(“Marxism and the Zionist State”, Palestine Affairs, Beirut, 12, 1972,
August, pp. 200–203.)
245
.١٧٤–١٧٢ ص،١٩٧٢ متوز، ١١ عدد، شؤون فلسطينية، " إعادة نظر: "الصهيونية
(“Zionism Reconsidered”, Palestine Affairs, Beirut, 11, 1972, July,
pp.€172–174.)
.١٩٩–١٤٦ ص، ١٩٧٢ آب، ١٢ عدد، شؤون فلسطينية، ""الصهيونية في خمسة وسبعني عام ًا
(“Zionism after 75 years”, Palestine Affairs, Beirut, 12, 1972, August,
pp. 146–199.)
١٩٧٢ تشرين الثاني،١٥ عدد، شؤون فلسطينية، ""تيارات في السياسة العربية وعلم االجتماع العربي
.١٩٤–١٩١ ص،
(“Currents in Arab Politics and Sociology after June 1967”, Palestine
Affairs, Beirut, 15, 1972, November, pp. 191–194.)
1973
.٩٢–٧٣ ص، ١٩٧٣ نيسان، ) الثقافة العربية ( بيروت، "حول ثقافة االستعمار وثقافة التخلف
(“On Colonial and Underdeveloped Culture”, Al-Thaqafa Al-Arabiya,
Beirut, 1973, April, pp. 73–92.)
1981
1982
.٤٧-٤٧ ص، ١٩٨٢ شباط، ٤ عدد، بيروت، دراسات عربية، ""أدونيس والنقد املنفلت من عقالة
(“A Reply to Adonis”, Dirasat Arabiya, Beirut, 4, 1982, February,
pp.€47–74.)
246
1984
1985
ص،١٩٨٥ ، تشرين الثاني ـ كانون األول، ) دراسات عربية (بيروت، ""حول الفلسفة احلديثة وتاريخها
.١١٧–٧٩
(“On Modern Philosophy and its History”, Dirasat Arabiya, Beirut,
1985, November–December, pp. 79–117.)
1986
1988
1991
247
Republished in: South Asia Bulletin, 11, 1991, 1–2, pp. 1–20, and in:
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1993
1994
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“‘I do want to play games!’: samtal med Sadik J. Al-Azm”, Al-Azm u.a.,
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1999
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1970
، املكتب التجاري: بيروت، " البرهان اليقيني للر ّد على كتاب "نقد الفكر الديني: جبر همزة، فرج
.١٩٨٠ ، الطبعة الثانية، ١٩٧٠
(Farraj, Jabir Hamzah: The Positive Proof to Refute the Book, Critique
of Religious Thought)
.١٩٧٠ ، مؤسسة دار فلسطني: بيروت، الر ّد على صادق العظم: محمد، نسر اهلل
(Nasr Allah, Muhammad Izzat: The Refutation of Sadik J. Al-Azm)
.١٩٧٠ ، دار الطلية: بيروت، " على هامش "نقد الفكر الديني: عثمان إبن عبد القدير، سفي
(Safi, Uthman ibn Abd al-Qadir: Notes to Critique of Religious Thought)
1971
١٩٧١. ، مطبع لبنان: بيروت، محمد حسن الياسني، "هوامش على كتاب "نقد الفكر الديني
(Notes on the Book, Critique of Religious Thought)
2003
.٢٠٠٣ ، دمشق دار املجد، بؤس احلقيقة في أدب سلمان رشدي و صادق العظم: أحمد، عمران
(Umran, Ahmad: The Suffering of the Truth in the Literature of Salman
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251
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“An Interview”, The June 1967 War after Three Decades, William
W. Haddad (et al.), Washington, DC: Association of Arab-American
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املؤسسة العربية: ) صقر أبو فخر) (بيروت: "حوار بال ضفاف مع صادق جالل العظم" (أجرى احلوار
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253
255
256
Rushdie, Salman, vii, x, xi, 5, 8, 22–27, Syria(n), ix, xvi, xvii, 19, 20, 76, 77,
223, 241, 242, 247–249, 251 79, 82, 86, 92, 102, 112, 113, 117, 121,
Ruthven, Malise, 9, 10, 11, 13, 224 124, 125, 135, 174–175, 225, 226,
235, 250
Said, Edward, x, xi, 5, 9, 16, 17, 29,
45–68, 71, 81, 86, 92, 110, 115, 125, 141, Taliban, 6, 115
148, 161, 163, 165, 173, 176, 178–179,
180, 224–226 United States, 10, 16, 17, 19–22, 42, 43,
Saudi-Arabia, 16, 26, 174, 175, 240 105, 106, 108, 116, 118–120, 138, 167,
Semitic (or: anti-Semitic), 5, 103, 105, 170, 169, 171, 173, 174, 178
172, 173, 175, 177–181, 194, 205, 234
September 11, 2001, 6–7, 14, 19–22, Wehr, Hans, 13
65, 168 Whitehead, Alfred North, 10, 244
Shayegan, Daryush, 9, 223
Shi’ism, 18, 22, 25–28, 74, 83, 94, 117, 182 Zionism, vii, xii, 16, 20, 22, 24, 90, 91,
Spain, 15, 80 101, 108, 136, 138, 139, 177, 180, 231,
Sunnism, x, 22, 25, 26, 74, 75, 83, 84, 117 240, 245–247
257