Islamic Ethics and Female

Volunteering: Committing to Society,

Committing to God 1st ed. Edition
Merve Reyhan Kayikci
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/islamic-ethics-and-female-volunteering-committing-to-
society-committing-to-god-1st-ed-edition-merve-reyhan-kayikci/
NEW DIRECTIONS IN ISLAM

Islamic Ethics and

Female Volunteering
Committing to Society, Committing to God

Merve Reyhan Kayikci

 New Directions in Islam

Series Editors
Joshua M. Roose
Institute for Religion, Politics and Society
Australian Catholic University
Melbourne, VIC, Australia

Bryan S. Turner
Institute for Religion, Politics and Society
Australian Catholic University
Melbourne, VIC, Australia

Emeritus Professor, Graduate Centre

City University of New York
New York, NY, USA
The New Directions in Islam series will promote creative ways of concep-
tualizing the practice of Islam in new, challenging contexts and present
innovative and provocative interdisciplinary studies examining intel-
lectual, political, legal, economic, and demographic trajectories within
Islam.
Although recognised as the world’s fastest growing religion, many
Muslims now live in secular societies where Islam is a minority religion
and where there is considerable social conflict between Muslim commu-
nities and the wider society. Therefore it is vital to engage with the multi-
tude of ways by which Muslims are adapting and evolving as social and
cultural minorities.
How are they developing their faith in line with local and national
customs? How are converts and subsequent generations adapting in these
challenging contexts? This series moves beyond dichotomies about radi-
calism, citizenship, and loyalty evident in the proliferation of descrip-
tive and repetitive studies of Islamophobia and Orientalism, which have
become both negative and predictable. Rather, contrary to the percep-
tion of Muslims as victims of secular modernity, we are interested in
‘success stories’ of Muslims adapting in and contributing to society at
local, national and even transnational levels, such as the case of Muslim
middle classes in Canada, the United States, South Africa, and Argentina.
This series will go beyond the geographic boundaries of the Middle
East to examine Islam from a global perspective in vastly different
contexts from Brazil to Vietnam and Austria to Papua New Guinea.

More information about this series at

http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/14746
 Merve Reyhan Kayikci

Islamic Ethics
and Female
Volunteering
Committing to Society,
Committing to God
Merve Reyhan Kayikci
Department of Semitic Studies
University of Granada
Granada, Spain

New Directions in Islam

ISBN 978-3-030-50663-6 ISBN 978-3-030-50664-3 (eBook)
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-50664-3

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature
Switzerland AG 2020
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher,
whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting,
reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical
way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software,
or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt
from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this
book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the
authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained
herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with
regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

Cover image: © Qweek/Getty Stock Images

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland
AG
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
 Foreword

Much of the social science that addresses Islamic topics has an emphatic
political dimension, reflecting the hyperpoliticization of the Greater
Middle East. An important compensating trend in the social-cultural
anthropology of Islam has been to investigate the ‘everyday.’ Merve R.
Kayikci’s book falls in this category, but the background is compli-
cated. She carried out her fieldwork among Turkish women volunteers
in Belgium starting in 2014. In late November 2015 and 2016, terror
strikes in Paris and Brussels provoked serious ethnic tensions in Belgium
and accusations that the country had failed to integrate its immigrant
population. Meanwhile, Turkey experienced political turmoil, peaking in
an attempted coup in July 2016 followed by a fierce clampdown on free
expression that is still in force.
Kayikci, who defended her doctoral thesis (on which this book is
based) at the University of Leuven in 2018 and now works at the Univer-
sity of Granada, inherits a strong Turkish tradition of free debate and
enquiry, including in the social sciences, which was still apparently unex-
tinguished as late as early 2015. The subsequent actions of the Turkish
government deeply affected the lives of many of her interlocutors, who

v
vi Foreword

also had to contend with a new atmosphere of suspicion and mistrust in

Belgium.
The result is that Kayikci has had to present her findings with the
same degree of ethical reserve that would be normal if she had been
describing one of the hyperpoliticized crises in the Middle East. Use
of pseudonyms for interlocutors is common practice but, in addition,
Kayikci gives no systematic account of the structure and policies of the
associations in Brussels and Antwerp whose members’ volunteering activ-
ities are described in these pages. There are good reasons. The unfolding
events in both Europe and Turkey caused them to feel ‘the walls around
them narrowing.’ Kayikci, compensating for the lack of factual evidence
and contextualization that she is able to present (though informed readers
will be able to read between the lines to some extent), gives us insight
into the lifeworlds of her interlocutors, through a wealth of vignettes
and interviews which would surely have been very difficult for anyone
other than a woman of Turkish origin to obtain. The reader is invited
to see these women as individuals striving with conflicting priorities,
for instance between volunteering and traditional familial care roles. We
are not asked to pigeonhole them as representing a particular tendency
within Islam.
Kayikci has a surefootedness in explaining terms of Islamic doctrine,
and a voracious appetite for picking up interpretative cues from all the
human sciences. With its rich theoretical texture, Islamic Ethics and
Female Volunteering has many threads that can be pulled out. In what
follows, I have chosen a few of them.
The anthropological study of charitable action has been dominated by
varying interpretations of Marcel Mauss’s brilliant essay The Gift (1925),
according to which, however much donors may persuade themselves that
their actions are disinterested, they are inevitably parties to a transaction
whereby they receive a reciprocal reward—whether social prestige, the
blessings and obligation of beneficiaries, or merit in a celestial economy
after death. Kayikci is one of a number of anthropologists who, while
 Foreword vii

fully appreciative of Mauss, have in different ways tried to elude the grip
of Maussian transactionalism.1
Time and labor, rather than material resources, are the gifts of these
Turkish Muslim women, a ‘muted’ minority. Following a line of thought
explored by Ira Lapidus and Saba Mahmood, Kayikci turns to the Arabic
term malaka as “that inner quality developed as a result of outer practice
which makes practice a perfect ability of the soul of the actor.” Kayikci’s
interlocutors proposed by themselves, without prompting by her, the
concept of a ‘second self,’ a second start in life as a different person that
committed volunteering can, in their view, provide. The nafs or ego, the
desiring or impulsive part of the soul, is seen by them as an obstacle to be
overcome in order to establish a pure bond with God. “Please God: make
me small in my eyes and great in yours.” Whereas emotional detachment
is generally recommended as good practice for volunteers, the absence of
love, compassion, and mercy is highly problematized by these Muslim
volunteers, and the cultivation of those emotions is considered as part
of cultivating the ethical self. Thus, according to them, the individual
is not a proper Muslim as long as one is unable to invest in bringing
oneself to have an affective connection with the people one volunteers
for. Kayikci concludes that time spent on volunteering is experienced
as having a divine value when it is approached with the correct niyya
(intention)—even mundane acts such as baking a cake for charity.
These women followed Islamic injunctions as regards prayer and some
degree of gender segregation in their personal lives. A few of them were
professionals with higher degrees; most of them worked in manual jobs.
The kernel of their associative life is the sohbet —Turkish for conversa-
tion—where a number of women meet to discuss a religious book or
sermon video. But their response to the challenge of belonging to an
ethnic and religious minority has been to reach out to the wider secular
society—denying that there is an incompatibility but without giving up

1 EricaBornstein’s Disquieting Gifts: Humanitarianism in New Delhi (2012) is cited by Kayikci.

See also Amira Mittermaier, Giving to God: Islamic Charity in Revolutionary Times (University of
California Press, 2019), on Egypt, see Emanuel Schaeublin, “Islam in Face-to-Face Interaction:
Direct Zakat Giving in Nablus (Palestine),” Contemporary Levant, 24:2, 2019, 122–140.
viii Foreword

on what they see as non-negotiable. They often make light of the tradi-
tional Islamic emphasis on the merit acquired by making charitable gifts
discreetly rather than publicly.
Sohbet teachers encourage their students to read Belgian newspapers
and watch local news channels rather than tune into Turkish channels
via satellite. There is little or no impulse to convert non-Muslims: rather,
they set out to lead an exemplary life. None of their associations’ activities
aimed at the public at large had any religious content. They included a
Mathematics Olympics, a project to bring thousands of schoolchildren
to take a mathematics test in a large examination hall; a partnership with
UN Women in Brussels promoted as “He4She,” a solidarity campaign to
promote gender equality; and a three-day symposium entitled “Diverse
talents for the future of Europe.”
Comparison with volunteering by Christian and Jewish women would
be enlightening. This book should also feed into some current debates
about the relationship between self-care and self-sacrifice. James Laidlaw
and Jonathan Mair, anthropologists who specialize in dharmic religions,
have asked whether altruism and egoism are completely opposed, or can
be mutually reinforcing goals.2 There is room for comparison between
the Islamic concept of nafs, expounded by Kayikci’s interlocutors as an
obstacle to spirituality, and the more radical idea that the self is illusory.
More practically, this book should be hailed and used as a resource for
countering stereotypes of Muslims and particularly Muslim women—
especially welcome at this time of rising nationalism and xenophobia,
aggravated by immense economic strains.

May 2020 Jonathan Benthall

University College London
London, UK

2 Prospectusfor workshop, “Benefiting self and others: understanding altruism, egoism and the
space in between,” Cathedral Lodge, Canterbury Cathedral, 29 May 2018.
 Acknowledgments

While the past year that I have invested in writing this book has been
one that I have spent mostly in my study, alone and lost in my data
and books, the past four years have by no means been ‘individualistic.’ I
have to say how lucky I have been to have an unconditionally supportive
environment, both intellectually and emotionally. And although it was
me who ‘wrote’ this book, it is the product of years of sharing, discussion,
motivation, and selflessness that were so generously provided to me by
my supervisors, colleagues, family and friends. It is for this reason that I
would like to express my gratitude to the many people who helped me
along this trajectory, who believed in me till the very end, and who saw
the merit of my work even at times when I could not. Your support is
worth, and has meant, more than I can express here.
I owe my deepest gratitude to Nadia Fadil for her guidance, super-
vision, and willingness to take under her wings a project which, at that
time, was the first she would supervise. I knocked on her door for the first
time as a young Master’s student trying to find her focus, her voice, her
style of writing. It is impossible for me to convey the many different ways
she has influenced me intellectually, always pushing me to think further,

ix
x Acknowledgments

to question further, to go deep into the details that are often taken for
granted in our field. For these and many more inputs, I will forever be
grateful.
This book is based on my doctoral project and I would like to show my
greatest appreciation to Erkan Toguslu, Steven van Wolputte, Jonathan
Benthall, and Chia Longman for guiding me in my research and always
providing insightful feedback. I must also thank Amira Mittermaier for
her gracious advice and guidance in the last couple of years, during which
I had the chance to meet her and correspond about my work. I would
like to thank Anya Topoloski for our discussions on relationality and rela-
tional ethics. Her intellectual influence on this work is great. I offer my
deep gratitude to the IMMRC for funding me throughout my research.
I would like to thank my colleagues and friends for their compan-
ionship over the years. Their contributions to me as a person and as an
academic have been invaluable, more than maybe they even know. Thank
you Mieke Groeninck, Johan Leman, Jaafar Alloul, Jeremy Mandin,
Naasiha Abrams, Laura Galian, Nadia Hindi and Elena Arigita, Roya
Imani, Nathal Dessing, Thijl Sunier, Catherine Trundle, Nil Mutluer,
Nella van den Brandt, Tilmann Heil, and my Race and Religion reading
group to whom I owe so much of my intellectual development. Very
special thanks go to Sertac Sehlikoglu, who has been a friend and mentor
throughout the years. Many thanks to Justin, who invested the time and
effort to proofread the manuscript.
For their constructive comments and feedback, I express my special
thanks to Poppy Hull and Geetha Chockalingam and the anonymous
reviewers of Palgrave Macmillan. Thanks go to the Palgrave Macmillan
team for guiding me through the publication process. It was a great
pleasure working with you.
I also have to mention my beloved friends, who have stayed my
‘beloved friends’ although I have been nearly absent in their lives over
the last couple of years. I owe them much of my sanity, as they have
always generously provided me with love and comfort: dearest Fulya
and Seda, Buket, Busra, Esma, Fatma, Neslihan, Neslihan, Sema, Tuba,
Vladiana, Pinar, Ebru, Melike, Busra, Gizem (those who have still been
there regardless of distance), Burcu, Kubra, Elif, Yasemin, Mesude, Serap,
 Acknowledgments xi

Gamze, Makbule, Sibel, Ulku, Nur and Sveta. There are so many more
names that I could not possibly fit into a few pages. Thank you all…
I am indebted to those closest to me for enduring this journey together
with me. For that I would like to thank my family, although I can never
thank them enough. Thank you, Riza, for standing beside me always and
reminding me to “finish the book.”
Finally, I would like to thank the amazing women without whom this
project could not have even started. Although anonymity requires that I
do not reveal their names, they deserve acknowledgment the most. The
female volunteers in Brussels and Antwerp were incredibly generous with
their time and patience, as I literally followed them around the cities, to
their homes and most intimate spheres. How grateful I am to have met
them, and have them become part of my life over the years. The past
two years have been rough for them, as a new wave of political and social
hostility has hit them, coming from their motherland. Witnessing lives
change so drastically has had its own impact on me. However, what has
amazed and humbled me the most is how my interlocutors continued
doing what they do, and in the meantime were still incredibly open to
me. It is to those who have been affected by this hostile wave that I
dedicate this book.
 Contents

1 Introduction 1

2 Getting Acquainted with the Volunteers 23

3 Caring Is a Part of Believing and Why the Ethical Is

Relational 73

4 Reviving a Forgotten Tradition, Infaq 115

5 The Authority in Sisterhood 147

6 When Volunteering Touches the Experience of Time 185

7 The Adab of Da’wa 217

8 Transparency, Visibility and the Mahram 275

xiii
xiv Contents

Conclusion: Further Thoughts on Volunteering 319

Epilogue 329

Glossary 335
 1
Introduction

The year in which I started working on this book, 2019, was the tenth
anniversary of the Brussels women’s association for which my inter-
locutors have been volunteering. For the occasion, we got together, the
volunteers and I, for an evening organized especially for the anniver-
sary celebration. The women blew out the ten candles on a cake bearing
the association’s logo and made promises for ten more prosperous years.
So far it has been ten years since my interlocutors, the Belgian Muslim
women, started their association in order to make their volunteering offi-
cial. Our first encounters coincided with their busiest years. We met in
highly formal settings, in European and federal parliaments, where we
discussed how to shatter the glass ceiling for women. We discussed topics
from equal pay to motherhood and were introduced to the experiences
of women from all kinds of social and cultural backgrounds. On their
tenth anniversary, my interlocutors still hold strongly to these issues and
have worked together with a range of international associations such as
UN Women and Amnesty in actualizing their aims. Not all their events
cater for political institutions and international movements, as they also
work very much with local people and local organizations.

© The Author(s) 2020 1

M. R. Kayikci, Islamic Ethics and Female Volunteering,
New Directions in Islam,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-50664-3_1
2 M. R. Kayikci

From the outside, my interlocutors are no different from any other

volunteer in Belgium. Their association hosts similar events to other
volunteering associations. They organize baked-good sales to raise money
for their charitable programs. They take their members and non-member
participants on day trips to promote friendship and networking. They
organize conferences and panels concerning social and political issues.
To raise awareness of the importance of a good education, they organize
yearly math and social sciences competitions among young adolescents.
They also seek to promote intercultural understanding from a young age
with artistic competitions, urging teenagers to draw, sculpt and express
their ideas on ‘the art of living together.’ They distribute food to homeless
people and try to work with shelters for more effective charity.
It is not easy to describe the scope and content of my interlocutors’
volunteering activities. The most important reason behind this is because
they do not have a clearly defined program or cause. They work around
values such as dialogue, social cohesion and community betterment.
These values are articulated in a wide array of different events and activ-
ities and most of them are short-term. Throughout this book, I detail
the different kinds of activities the volunteers have organized and which
I had the chance to attend. There are a handful of women who actu-
ally work full-time for the association, taking care of the administrative
issues, the bills, and the communication and organization of the events.
The rest of the contributors are full volunteers, who drop by occasionally
depending on necessity.
In this picture, the female volunteering association works very simi-
larly to any other Belgian/European association. There is, however,
one thing that sets my interlocutors apart from their counterparts:
volunteering for my interlocutors is inextricably linked to their pious
trajectory. Volunteering is something for them that is done for rizayi
ilahi, or in English God’s consent. Interestingly, they would in no way
define their volunteering activities as religious but yet they are religious.
This interesting dynamic was what channeled me to further unpack what
volunteering meant for my interlocutors.
Volunteering Muslims are still quite marginally understudied
in anthropology. There are quite a number of studies that are
concerned with volunteering in the liberal-secular contexts, dealing
 1 Introduction 3

with the motivational forces that drive people to volunteer and the
social/political/economic reasons and outcomes of the practice. Why do
people volunteer, and what difference does that make for the society?
This comes out as one of the major questions in the existing literature.
Indeed, religion has always been part of the reason why people volunteer.
The concept of (Western) charity itself is historically linked to Christian
benevolence. Nevertheless, in the existing literature there seems to be an
implicit insistence that volunteering is a secularized modern institution
that is based on the impulse to do good. Even in cases where the church
is involved, the form and content of volunteering are secular.
This came up when I was introduced to the director of the Catholic
volunteering association in Flanders. Although the institution itself is
Catholic by name, their starting inspiration was to find a way to keep
people occupied with something when they did not work. That ‘some-
thing’ did not necessarily have anything to do with the church. While,
similarly, my interlocutors pursue a secular form and content of volun-
teering, there is an undeniable nuance in how the religious is experienced
within a secular space. This aspect, I effectively argue, is the point that
deserves interrogation, more so because volunteering—a liberal-secular
space—is not only a space of religious experience but also of public
engagement. Thus, there are two factors in volunteering for the Belgian
Muslim women that merge: religion and the public. This brings me to
my main point. When I first started following the activities of the volun-
teers and observing their pious experiences, I also noticed that the ethical
turn in the anthropology of Islam was concentrated on the individual
experience. There is a profound emphasis in the existing literature on
piety as the individual’s endeavor of self-making: ethical self-making. On
the one hand I can only agree with this assertion, but on the other hand
my interlocutors’ experiences point to an observable social component in
ethical self-making.
The relationality of ethics and volunteering as an ethical self-making
process is effectively absent in existing studies. The case of my interlocu-
tors is significant in that not only does it contribute to the literature
on ethics but also on how two different ethical traditions merge and
diverge. These two traditions are namely the liberal-secular tradition of
ethics and non-liberal Islamic tradition of ethics. The compatibility of
4 M. R. Kayikci

Islam with European social and political values has been an ongoing and
never-ending debate. The debate has increased in intensity over the years
especially with the rise of ISIS and European Muslims traveling to Syria.
Can Muslims ever be trusted with European values? Or does the loyalty
to religion tilt on the heavier side?
These debates have reflected on different kinds of Muslim networks,
including voluntary networks. When watching the news in Belgium or
the Netherlands, it seems like one fragment that appears every day is
the one concerning to what extent the state will allow Muslim networks
to start institutions in their country. These can be mosques, schools,
cultural centers and voluntary (aid) institutions. The flow of money is
one of the main points of concern. Who funds these institutions and for
what reason? Is it a non-liberal Middle Eastern government or organiza-
tion that invests in the expansion of such institutions and is the money
flow legal? Moreover, the sincerity of these Muslims is put into ques-
tion. Are these Muslims really seeking social betterment, or are they
actually serving a second agenda? Does this agenda include a mission-
izing project? Is the next new project establishing another Islamic state,
or are these European Muslims actually working for their own (Islamic)
governments? It is not a secret that Muslims who have volunteered
for international aid organizations have been subject to prosecution on
charges of terrorism/extremism. In particular, those Muslims who volun-
tarily departed to Bosnia during the civil war or to Afghanistan have been
listed as jihadi. Even when their aim was to deliver aid, they were closely
scrutinized by Western governments.
Even in cases where religious motivation is not blatantly apparent,
Muslim activists are a source of contention in Western eyes. What do
they really want when they ask for the liberation of Muslim cover-
ings? Why do they still argue for the niqab, or the burqa? Are they
still not liberated enough from the chains of their religion/culture? As
Muslims make their religious/cultural demands increasingly public, all
these debates become more and more heated. Significantly, even when
Muslims participate in public actions for their specific demands, they
use modern-liberal tropes of freedom and the freedom to choose.
 1 Introduction 5

This book starts with details of these discussions. It starts with the
acceptance that Muslims can participate in volunteering, public partic-
ipation and social engagements and still retain their religious concerns.
This is an issue of negotiating different traditions while aiming to remain
sincere to these traditions, whether they are liberal or religious. Without
having to exclude one over the other, my interlocutors borrow from
multiple moral rubrics. As long as we are concerned with their sincerity
in being European, we will miss this nuanced dynamic. As long as we
restrict our perspective on piety as an individualistic trajectory, we will
miss seeing the social influence on how piety is actually lived.
There is one point that I wish to discuss before going further with the
book and that is this issue of sincerity. The hype in Western media over
Muslims’ true intentions may be seen as speculative, however there is one
core issue on which they center their ideas. This is that although some
Muslims may seem to be liberal, democratic, secularized, pro-gender
equality and so on from the outside, they are still attached to their reli-
gious values. The seemingly essential discrepancy between Western values
and Islamic ethos makes it impossible for them to co-exist in the same
body, thus claiming to embody both raises concerns over sincerity.
This book works with this assumption and each chapter engages with
how the Muslim subject is in constant conversation with the two tradi-
tions. This is where relationality and relational ethics become significant.
Piety is not only informed by society as I have mentioned above, but
also by the ethical sources that shape society and the state. More explic-
itly, the subject’s sense of piety is not restricted to Islamic ethics but also
by what is considered ethical in the liberal modern sense. Muslims such
as my interlocutors who were born, raised, and educated in a liberal-
secular country such as Belgium are shaped by these principles as much
as any other non-Muslim Belgian (or European). This is not an issue of
sincerity but of negotiation for my interlocutors. On the one hand they
are pious, while on the other hand they want to socially engage and be
accepted for who they are by society.
This is not a very straightforward experience and often includes much
accommodation, compromise, and adjustment on the side of my inter-
locutors. I will gradually deliberate what this means in the coming
chapters. To put it briefly, there are many cases where public discourses
6 M. R. Kayikci

shape how my interlocutors understand their position, space, and perfor-

mativity in the public scene. There is a tendency in the media, in
politics, and even in academic studies to emphasize how social and
political institutions accommodate Muslim populations, namely, their
cultural and religious needs, their differences and conditions. This book
attempts to cover how Muslim subjectivity is also subject to outside
influence. Even piety, I argue, is influenced in form and content, and
can become a very non-formalistic experience. This takes place within
the dynamics of social context. This is the initial reason why I was
intrigued by volunteering. I wanted to understand what volunteering
meant for this community of Muslims. Such a secular practice in form
had such a religious significance. It appeared to me that volunteering
had become a huge part of my interlocutors’ lives. Not only were they
invested in volunteering, prioritizing it more than any other entity in life
(work/family included), they were also invested in each other’s general
well-being as volunteers.
Why is this important? Firstly, the existing literature on volunteering
suggests that it is a very liberalized endeavor. People volunteer for many
reasons; however they volunteer in their free time. It is seen as doing
something useful when you are not doing something else useful, like
working. It is usually short-lived, focusing on one project or another
and then moving on. It is usually very individualistic, where the main
motive is to ‘get the job done’ without developing a sense of attach-
ment to the parties involved in volunteering. Higher numbers of people
are volunteering, and there is a circulation of people who volunteer
for different causes; one person volunteers, then drops out and is
immediately replaced by another person.
Interestingly, this was pointed out to me during a conversation with
the director of the Flemish Catholic volunteering association. He was
surprised when I mentioned to him that most of my interlocutors were
under 35 and had never given up volunteering ever since they had
started. The case with their association is different, apparently. The
founding reason for their association was to get people to do something
useful when they were not working, or when they were retired. It was a
way to keep people from spending time in bars and cafés and have them
do something with their extra time. So up until today their community
 1 Introduction 7

of volunteers still consists of older people who have time on their hands.
While in other associations there may also be younger volunteers, it is
basically about having that kind of extra time to spare.
This is roughly how volunteering works in the current context. Some
scholars express their concern over the increasing individualism that is
taking over volunteering, stating that this does not do much in terms of
social solidarity. Others highlight that it is not only about doing good,
but also about personal development and feeling the sense of doing good.
My interlocutors gave me a lot to think about in this sense. In many
ways, the ways in which they volunteer are disorganized but very strongly
attached—to the cause, to the people involved, to people who are on the
receiving end of volunteering—making the person the central focus more
than the cause or the project. Volunteering is not entirely about getting
the job done. As I have just mentioned, their projects have a broad focus
and the division of labor is very disorganized. This will be unpacked
further in the coming chapters as I discuss their events at length. While
the job is also important, the subject and the subject’s experience as a
volunteer are prioritized. The act of volunteering itself is what makes
the individual more ethical. Hence the volunteer is as much a part of
the cause as the cause itself. I found this very interesting and thought-
provoking. It also appeared to me as a different way of approaching the
ethical (relationally instead of individually).
In this context, I find it very difficult to fit my interlocutors’ volun-
teering in any existing category, just as I find it difficult to describe its
content and scope. It is not merely charity, as the content of their activi-
ties is not restricted to elevating poverty. It is not philanthropy, as they do
not commit to any long-term institutional program. Although there are
examples of such cases where the volunteers help establish school and so
on, these are marginal and do not represent most of their activities. They
are also not part of humanitarian aid projects or NGOs like many other
Islamic faith organizations. As with the previous example, while they can
be seen donating to international NGOs, they do not specifically focus
on this as their sole duty.
It is difficult to define my interlocutors in one holistic structure,
although it is tempting to do so. Their activities are very localized, and
can change and turn with local social and political shifts. The nature of
8 M. R. Kayikci

their events will be described in the coming chapters, however here I

want to lay out a picture of what drew me to this group of volunteers.
Although they appeared unorganized in their activities, they followed a
very well-defined agenda, namely, to bring grassroots solutions to social
and economic issues that are based in Belgium. As they work on these
issues, they are also working on who they are as Muslims in Belgium.
Not only are they working on their ethical self, but they are also working
on their public image as Muslims.
This is by no means the experience of all Muslims in Belgium or
Europe, but it makes us think through well-established notions of what
it means to be a good (pious) Muslim, especially in cases where good
Muslimness is set across being a good Belgian. It also allows us to think
through how piety or goodness is also inspired by propriety and the
sense of fitting in. Fitting in definitely may not be the hope or wish
of other Muslims, who are more activist in nature with their demands.
However, for my interlocutors, working with current public narratives
and expectations is the most comfortable way of interacting with their
social environment, even if, to an extent, this means dealing with prob-
lems reflected on their presence as Muslims, which transpires in most
cases.
My interlocutors’ idea of working against prejudice, stereotyping and
stigma is embedded in the struggle to fit with propriety. This includes
a lot of deliberation as to how they as a minority community can work
to better their own communities and eliminate issues that cause negative
attention. This may be problematic to some, but it is how my inter-
locutors construct goodness. The good Muslim is not only pious but is
also reflective of society. Volunteering allows the space to deliberate and
consider these issues and engage with them. Not only does it allow them
a space to practice piety, but in form it is a secular understandable avenue
for the Western eyes.
Volunteering is secular and liberal in form and pious in motivation
and inspiration. It is not religious in any formalistic way, but it is inher-
ently ethical. It is done for God’s consent and society’s approval. This
book unpacks this phenomenon, as it engages with the ways in which
volunteering is informed by the ethical and the ethical is informed
by volunteering. The overriding argument is that my interlocutors are
 1 Introduction 9

focused on the idea of fulfilling duty. However, the notion of duty is

a complicated interpretation informed by liberal humanist norms of
individual agency, responsibility, good citizenship, and orthodox Islamic
understanding of gaining God’s consent. The significance of the latter
point lies in its ambiguity. Gaining God’s consent brings about an array
of interpretations of what it means to be a ‘proper Muslim.’ Attention
here should be on the fact that it is not the good Muslim, but the proper
Muslim, the one who is able to negotiate and find the balance between
their religion and society.
The aim of this book is not to step into another discussion of
(conflicting) values and problematic encounters between the Muslim and
the West. Springing from the individual narratives, life experiences, and
stories of my interlocutors, this research begins where these conflicts
and controversies end—at least for my interlocutors. It interrogates the
endeavor of belonging. Belonging is rarely a smooth process in any
context, but what we will uncover throughout this discussion is that
belonging re-signifies embodiment, space, time, loyalties, intimacies, and
affects.
The central theme of this work is to examine the question of the
exact manner in which volunteering becomes the raison d’être for Belgian
Muslim female volunteers. This question is central to this research, and
hence it is of primary importance to introduce how volunteering has
been theorized—historically and anthropologically—and how it has even
become a signifier of social commitments, inclusion, and active participa-
tion. Moreover, as volunteering is often articulated nearly synonymously
with giving/sacrificing, this research explores how these conceptualiza-
tions converse with other Islamic traditions. Quintessentially, this study
is an attempt to understand volunteering as a way of life that shapes,
and is shaped by, daily interactions, public institutions and discourses,
and religious epistemologies.
As I have said before, in the recent literature there is a strong position
towards individualization and that Muslim self-governance is grounded
in liberal interpretations of agency, which includes liberal affects and
practices (see Fadil 2008). This means that while Muslims persist in
identifying with their religion, the ways in which they identify with
10 M. R. Kayikci

their religion are profoundly informed by “de-traditionalization,” or “de-

culturalization,” of religious knowledge and practice. It is a pursuit of
a more “individualized” and “personalized” religious trajectory (Cesari
2004). More explicitly, it is suggested that there is a search among
Muslims, to find ‘authentic’ Islam that is detached from culture/tradition
and offers a correct way of living Islamically (Fadil 2015; Deeb 2006;
Schielke 2007; Salvatore 1997). Amir-Moazami and Salvatore (2003)
observe that such individualization and pursuit of authentic knowledge
does not mean that religious authority is dismantled. They interpret this
as a pluralization of authorities and inclusion of a wider audience (i.e.
women), a “search for coherence (within the tradition)” (Asad 1993),
and self-reform (Amir-Moazami and Salvatore 2003, 53).
My focus in this research is engaged with this discussion but also
attempts to bring a nuanced experience of Muslim self-formation. On
the one hand, the pursuit of being a ‘proper’ Muslim touches on this
process of authentication; on the other hand, the ways in which my inter-
locutors relate to the hermeneutics of religious texts and embody them is
somewhat divorced from the individualization model. Throughout this
book, I unpack the implications of being a community—a community
of volunteers—and the consensual adoption of practices and commit-
ments that are articulated within the group. Thus, I suggest a strong
relational attachment in my interlocutors’ pious trajectory, not only
attachments to the liberal-secular (post-Enlightenment) values but also to
their (volunteering) community goals and visions, intentionally demar-
cating their experiences from those of their families, and ethnic and
religious communities.

The Many Meanings of Volunteering

Before I go into the specifics of my interlocutors’ volunteering, I find
it useful to review the different forms of volunteering, since this prac-
tice frames my interlocutors’ pursuit of a pious and ethical life. From a
general perspective, volunteering is non-obligatory and is carried out for
the benefit of others; it is unpaid and takes place in an organized context
 1 Introduction 11

with the aim of carrying out “public good” (Dekker and Halman 2003;
see also Dingle 2001; Goovaart et al. 2001; Wilson 2000).
Obviously, this definition is extremely general, as in some cases volun-
tary work is obligatory, such as community service or military work.
Moreover, the connotations of voluntary work differ greatly in different
contexts. In some countries, such as Germany, voluntary work is a
form of civic engagement necessary for a good political community
(Dekker and Halman 2003, 2). On the other hand, in the Anglo-
Saxon community, volunteering is considered as unpaid, charity work:
a service for the community and divorced from politics (Dekker and
Halman 2003, 2). Not unlike the definition, the different motivations
that lead to volunteering are also ambiguous and vast. These range
from the desire to fix disadvantages or help others; for personal experi-
ence (personal development) or socialization (Cnaan and Goldberg-Glen
1991); altruism and personal values (Clary and Snyder 1999; Halman
and Moor 1994; Kearney 2001); or being drawn in by others, that is,
family/friends/neighborhood/church congregation (Dekker and Halman
2003, 5).
While volunteering can be initiated by feelings of altruism and ‘neigh-
borhood values’ to help others in need, it can also be that the volunteer
takes up volunteering for personal development, to cope with their
personal issues, and even to ‘flatter their ego’ by doing something that
is much needed by others (see Pearce 1993). Thus, it is definitely not
always the case that volunteering stems from a heightened desire to
work for others’ betterment. There are many parallel and conflicting
reasons underlying peoples’ involvement in volunteering, and Wilson
rightly asserts that “overall, the relation between values and volunteering
is weak and inconsistent” (2000, 219). However, some studies indicate
that being part of a network which volunteers is one of the major reasons
people get drawn into volunteering (see Putnam 2000; Wuthnow 1998;
Trundle 2012, 2014).
Hence, if the person is part of a church network or social movement,
there is a higher chance that they will continuously volunteer. Putnam
(2000) observes that the decline of such networks and associations has
resulted in the decline of intensive direct contact during volunteering
12 M. R. Kayikci

and has thus led to the decline of long-term volunteering itself. Indeed,
according to Wuthnow, this is not a contradiction, as he concludes that

[…] being intensely committed to self-realization and material pleasure

did not seem to be incompatible with doing volunteer work […] People
who were the most individualistic were also the most likely to value doing
things to help others. (Wuthnow 1991, 22)

A similar observation is made by Hustinx (2001), who draws our

attention to a “post-modernized” and “individualized” flow of “new
volunteers.” This type of volunteer is less interested in continuous
commitment and more interested in specific goals and projects (Hustinx
2001). These goals and projects are usually determined by causes that
seem to “be in trend” during that specific time (Dekker and Halman
2003).
This is a point that comes to our attention repeatedly in the literature:
volunteering seems to be highly individualized and short-lived. One of
the points made in this book is interrogating how group commitment is
initiated and maintained—from a very young age—in order for it to be
internalized as a lifelong commitment by the individuals. Dekker and
Halman suggest that individualization and “decreasing organizational
loyalty” do not necessarily connote negativity in terms of commitments
to the cause (2003, 8). They do mean that there is a certain flexibility
whenever there is a new flow of volunteers replacing those who have
completed their task. This makes “individualism a resource,” and thus
“voluntary work does not have to react merely by assimilating; it has the
autonomy to attract different groups and to attract the same group with
different images, ideals and incentives” (Dekker and Halman 2003, 8).
It is interesting that in these studies the assumption is that the cause
precludes the volunteer, as long as the job gets done, so to speak. In this
research, the focus shifts to the volunteer: although the cause is extremely
important for the volunteers, the trajectory of working on the cause and
the kind of bodily, affective, and moral change such work inflicts on the
volunteer are as important, if not more so, than the cause itself. Thus, the
focus is multifold: the kind of causes that are subject to volunteering and
become the focus of the associations is one of the main interests of this
 1 Introduction 13

book. I am also interested in the ways in which the volunteer comes out
of this trajectory. In this scenario, the volunteer is not another individual
who is there to get the job done; she is not a number, but as much of a
task as the task itself.
We need to bear in mind that my interlocutors are Muslims and in the
Islamic religion giving does something to the self. Giving to the needy
is an eminent part of the Islamic religion. Islamic conceptualizations of
giving under the names zakat and sadaqa go back to the core religious
texts, the Qur’an and Sunnah. The Qur’an clearly lists those eligible to
receive alms: “(1) The poor (al -fuqara’ ); (2) Al -Massakin: usually inter-
preted as the needy or very poor […]; (3) […] the people appointed
to administer the zakat and negotiate with outlying groups; (4) ‘Those
whose hearts are made to incline [to the truth]’ […], interpreted as
being to help those recently or about to be converted, and/or to mollify
powerful non-Muslims whom the State fears, as an act of prudent poli-
tics; (5) Most Islamic commentators seem to have thought that ‘captives’
means Muslims captured by enemies who needed to be ransomed […];
(6) Debtors: particularly, […] because those who cannot repay their
debts lose rank and become clients of their creditors; (7) Those in the
way of God, that is to say in jihad , teaching or fighting or on other duties
assigned to them in God’s cause; (8) ‘Sons of the road’ (ibn as-sabi ) that
is travelers.”
Benthall unpacks these categories; indeed, one of the most interesting
assertions in his book is that the category of poorness is quite problematic
in Islam (2009, 12). He points out that Islamic scholars have debated on
whether there is a group of poor who are considered more ‘deserving’
than others, that is those who are handicapped and thus cannot work
(2009, 12). When it comes to the target group of giving, in this book
we will see that my interlocutors do not necessarily address the poor.
Most of their activities address disadvantage, but more on a social and
political than economic level. There are some events directly addressing
the needs of students, refugees, and the needy, but these are very limited
when looking at the larger picture of their activities. It is apparent that
the subject of volunteering transcends poverty, or any kind of aid in the
classical manner (as described above); it is a social phenomenon that has
been somewhat overlooked in the literature.
14 M. R. Kayikci

Moreover, there are studies that are reluctant to conceptualize Islamic

ways of giving as ‘charity,’ situating the latter concept within the Western
(Christian) context (Mitchell 1969). This is mainly because giving is
not merely a transaction between the donor and recipient, but really
a way of life—a social institution and financial reality (i.e. capitalism
or socialism), whose economic and political structures are carefully
described in the Qur’an (Kuran 1995). Indeed, the Qur’an carefully
explains the amount that must be given, and to whom, and even when
it must be given. Additionally, how governments and states must incor-
porate this system in their plans and budgets is also illustrated (Benthall
and Bellion-Jourdan 2003; Carré 1984).
There are some modern Muslim-majority countries that have
attempted to incorporate these guidelines into their own political
systems. In Malaysia and Pakistan, government agencies collect zakat,
while individuals can also donate through private institutions. Along
with these two countries, Saudi Arabia, Libya, and Sudan have incor-
porated zakat into their State systems (Hassan 2010, 269). In addition,
other countries like Egypt, Jordan, Kuwait, Iran, Bangladesh, Bahrain,
and Iraq have “specialized state institutions” for zakat, but participation
in these institutions by the public is voluntary (Hassan 2010, 269).
While these institutions (as an alternative to modern economic
systems) have been the focus in many different studies (Kuran 1995;
Salim 2008; Tugal 2013), there is another important phenomenon on
the rise, which is non-governmental Islamic aid organizations. Bruno
De Cordier describes these organizations as “non-governmental organi-
zations (NGOs) that were founded on the initiative of Muslims, that
mobilize most of their support among Muslims, and whose action is, to
varying degrees and in various forms, inspired and legitimated by the
Islamic religion or at least certain tenets thereof ” (2009, 609). I draw
on this definition when I refer to Islamic NGOs. A large proportion
of these organizations are based in the West—see for example Islamic
Relief Worldwide, Muslim Aid, Muslim Hands, Interpal, and the IHH.
There are also some organizations established in the Turkish and Arabic
world, such as Deniz Feneri, Qatar Charity, and the International Islamic
Charitable Organization. Some of these organizations were especially
effective in delivering relief to war-struck Muslim countries, notably
 1 Introduction 15

during the Bosnian War (Cordier 2009) and the Kosovo conflict in the
1990s (Benthall and Bellion-Jourdan 2003).
However, these organizations have also been the target of serious
skepticism, coming especially from Western governments who have
questioned what kind of body they fund through aid (e.g. Hamas or Al-
Qaida) (Petersen 2012). Especially after September 11, 2001, the assets
of some of these charities were frozen, while some were closed completely
(Ewing 2008). This does not change the fact that most Islamic aid orga-
nizations work very similarly to other secular or Christian NGOs. On
the one hand, Islamic aid organizations have a Muslim character and
base their conduct on the religious texts and traditional practices of their
religion; on the other hand, the jargon they use and the logistical strate-
gies they follow (fundraising, campaigning, charity events, focusing on
special holidays to advertise giving) is very similar to the practices of
other NGOs. Most Islamic NGOs communicate through professional
websites, which are user-friendly and easy to donate to.
Benthall (2016) explains that most organizations have signed the 1994
Code of Conduct for the International Red Cross and Red Crescent
Movement and Non-Governmental Organizations in Disaster Relief. He
adds that “signing such codes and declarations indeed reflects profes-
sionalization in the sense that it is a step towards obtaining professional
recognition and legitimacy [in the eyes of ] institutional donors and the
international aid sector” (De Cordier 2009, 613). This in itself presents
a complex situation: while these organizations pertain to Western stan-
dards of institutionalization, they

constituted themselves in reaction to ‘Western’ hegemony in the field of

humanitarian action: for that reason, they claim specificity, a rooting
in the Islamic tradition. But simultaneously, their insertion in the
field of humanitarian action contributes to a reformulation, even a re-
interpretation, of this tradition to be able to compose with the dominant
norms. (Bellion-Jourdan 2000, 15)

Multiple registers give form to this phenomenon. There is a strong

religious tradition in which giving is eminent, but there is also the unde-
niable fact of universality. Although these organizations are founded
16 M. R. Kayikci

on Islamic principles, they offer aid according to “purely humani-

tarian criteria devoid of any ethnic, linguistic, or religious distinction”
(Bellion-Jourdan 2000). The norms that characterize international aid
have become the norms that characterize Islamic aid. While this study
looks at more local forms of volunteering, it takes off from this analytical
assertion. Modern Islamic giving is a complicated structure embedded
in universal (liberal) norms of humanitarianism and a strong Islamic
consciousness of giving. I trace how these multiple rubrics inform how
they articulate (public/private) spaces in terms of belonging, and how
it imbricates their understanding of being Muslim and Belgian. I also
examine how they make sense of being part of that universalism, both
theoretically and practically, and how it shapes their social positions and,
in turn, how my interlocutors make sense of their and their ‘society.’

Outline
Chapter 2 of this book introduces the context of my research. The
two cities in which I conducted most of my research were Brussels and
Antwerp, and it is important to understand the multi-lingual and multi-
ethnic fibers of both cities in order to comprehend my interlocutors’
aim and scope in volunteering. The volunteers are mostly from Turkish
descent, which is an interesting point to unpack as establishing associ-
ations for different causes is quite popular among Belgian Turks. While
there is a substantial body of literature engaging with this phenomenon,
most of these studies do not look at the associations from the individual
perspective. They do not explore the individual motives, aspirations, and
different levels of relationality in their studies. I believe it is impor-
tant to acknowledge the history of Turkish associations and its impact
on belonging, religious/national identity-making and socialization. We
can then go into discussing how my interlocutors diverge from tradi-
tional Belgian-Turkish associations and have a very unique vision of
their own associations and volunteering. This is a necessary discussion,
especially when we consider that public discourse towards Muslims and
Islam is highly embedded in negative stereotypes. Most of my interlocu-
tors embody Islamic symbols such as the headscarf, and this creates a
 1 Introduction 17

tension in their social engagements, for example in their jobs, their chil-
dren’s schools, and in their own education. Volunteering also provides a
space where they can confront these tensions on their own terms. This
chapter briefly touches upon Islam’s problematic visibility in Europe for
the aim of better understanding how this problem is articulated among
the volunteers.
We have already discussed the theory which postulates that Euro-
pean Islam is individualized. Most of the studies produced on European
Muslims take this theory into account, and while I also acknowledge it
in this book, I want to look as well at how piety is very much relational.
Chapter 3 unpacks relationality in the context of care and caregiving.
Here, caregiving has a very specific meaning and does not only refer to
giving care to the needy. The female Muslim volunteers locate piety in the
very act of caring for everyone and everything, and pious self-making is
embedded in how much they can fulfill this responsibility. This form of
piety takes the theory of individualization one step further. Yes, Muslims
are more attentive to how they engage with religious knowledge and
ethical self-making, however my interlocutors strongly emphasize that
proper piety is very much socially embedded. This chapter unpacks how
the practice of caregiving figures into this properness. It is important
what this relationality does to the agency of the subject and its entan-
glement with the divine. Indeed, the core of relationality proposes that
individual agency is bound to the agency of God and society.
Chapter 4 addresses the economic and spiritual undertones of volun-
teering. It examines how modern capitalist rational thinking has given
shape to traditional Islamic notions of ‘blessed giving.’ Moreover, starting
from my interlocutors’ own narratives and religious lessons, it attempts
to capture how the essence of giving is quite detached from modern
capitalism, influencing the growth of the spiritual self. Since volun-
teering is the very act of giving (to society), Chapter 4 discusses the
‘spiritual economy’ of giving. There is a very topical debate concerning
the relationship between giving and gaining thawab in Islam. Some
scholars argue that giving does not require any personal attachment
to the receiving end, and the aim is to merely give by only expecting
divine reward. My interlocutors argue the very opposite: the donor has
to be completely embedded in the life of the receiver and should not
18 M. R. Kayikci

expect anything—even divine reward—in turn. This is a debate that is

highly contextual and depends greatly on how the Muslim subject inter-
prets Islamic giving and practices it. My interlocutors, who have a very
relational reading of Islam, extend relationality to the gift transaction.
Giving is intertwined with their relation to their own ego and there is an
inverse dynamic—or there should be an inverse dynamic—as the subject
gives, their ego diminishes. There is little anthropological or sociological
research in this area, nor on how such deliberations are reflected on in
daily life. The book aims to bring a nuanced perspective into the field
by including theological discussions and empirical observations on the
spiritual economy of giving and subjectivation.
Chapter 5 offers an insight into the process of becoming a volun-
teer, which is paralleled to becoming a ‘proper Muslim.’ It looks at how
belonging to such communities is informed by common epistemologies
and practices, which in turn informs notions of the ‘ideal person.’ This
ideal person becomes an aspirational character for the volunteers, whose
performance of this character effectively determines the extent of their
spiritual growth and reliability within the group. This chapter answers
how authority develops among the women depending on to what extent
they perform the role of the ‘proper Muslim.’ This authority does not
come from a complete emancipation from traditional Islamic sources but
from performing the role according to contextual subtleties.
Time is of extreme importance for my interlocutors. Chapter 6 ques-
tions how time is a complicated phenomenon for the female volunteers.
Its linear historical experience is a given; however, volunteering embeds
time with a certain value. This value is acknowledged by my interlocu-
tors as a blessing, and it manifests in fragmentation, expansion, and
contraction of time experience. Thus, the chapter is an attempt to analyt-
ically understand how linear, calendric Western time is effectively both
acknowledged but also deconstructed by my interlocutors, and how the
labor of giving is the moral determinant in this dynamic.
Da’wa is a complicated phenomenon that literally translates as “call to
the true religion.” One of the issues surrounding this statement is that it
frames Islam as a missionizing religion and all kinds of da’wa as a pros-
elytizing endeavor. Chapter 7 explores how this phenomenon realizes in
everyday life in a manner that does not reduce da’wa to proselytizing. I
 1 Introduction 19

address how the social audience informs the form and content of da’wa,
depending on whether they are Muslim or not Muslim. Effectively, this
endeavor is not restricted to inviting non-Muslims to Islam, but also
covers (community) self-help, reminding Muslims of their ethical duties
and dialogue with non-Muslims.
Building on the previous chapter, the final chapter focuses on visi-
bility, and critically engages with the demand for my interlocutors to
be more visible in the public sphere. While society asks for them to be
more visible in decision-making processes and generally in the events, I
argue that this demand is also an urge for more transparency. Visibility is
framed as a plea for greater female autonomy in the volunteering scene,
whereas transparency implies a proving of sincerity and asks whether
the female volunteers are indeed autonomous enough. It asks if their
volunteering is sufficiently modern-secular to be counted as sincerely
volunteering, or is it just another network of Muslims re-instating gender
stereotypes? The chapter goes on to show how visibility and non-visibility
are construed by the volunteers through the concept of mahram. I inter-
rogate how space is disclosed or not disclosed to people depending on
the fluctuating operation of mahram.

References
Amir-Moazami, Schirin, and Armando Salvatore. “Gender, generation, and the
reform of tradition: From muslim majority societies to Western Europe.” In
Muslim networks and transnational communities in and across Europe, pp. 52–
77. Leiden, 2003.
Asad, T. “The construction of religion as an anthropological category.” In
Genealogies of religion: Discipline and reasons of power in Christianity and
Islam, Vol. 2, pp. 27–54, 1993.
Bellion-Jourdan, Jerome. “Islamic relief organisations: Between ‘Islamism’ and
‘humanitarianism.’” ISIM Newsletter, no. 5 (2000): 1.
Benthall, Jonathan, and Jérôme Bellion-Jourdan. Charitable crescent: Politics of
aid in the Muslim world . I.B. Tauris, 2003.
Benthall, Jonathan. “Islamic relief worldwide” (2009): 605–606.
20 M. R. Kayikci

Benthall, Jonathan. Islamic charities and Islamic humanism in troubled times.

Oxford University Press, 2016.
Carré, Olivier. Mystique et politique: lecture révolutionnaire du Coran par Sayyid
Qut.b, frère musulman radical . Vol. 1. Cerf, 1984.
Cesari, Jocelyne. When Islam and democracy meet: Muslims in Europe and in the
United States. Springer, 2004.
Clary, E. Gil, and Mark Snyder. “The motivations to volunteer: Theoretical
and practical considerations.” Current Directions in Psychological Science 8,
no. 5 (1999): 156–159.
Cnaan, Ram A., and Robin S. Goldberg-Glen. “Measuring motivation to
volunteer in human services.” The Journal of Applied Behavioral Science 27,
no. 3 (1991): 269–284.
De Cordier, Bruno. “Faith-based aid, globalisation and the humanitarian front-
line: An analysis of western-based Muslim aid organisations.” Disasters 33,
no. 4 (2009): 608–628.
Deeb, Lara. “An enchanted modern.” In Gender and public piety in Shi’i
Lebanon. Princeton, 2006.
Dekker, Paul, and Loek Halman (eds.). The values of volunteering: Cross-cultural
perspectives. Springer Science & Business Media, 2003.
Dingle, A. (ed.) Measuring volunteering. Washington, DC: Independent Sector,
2001.
Ewing, Katherine Pratt (ed.). Being and belonging: Muslims in the United States
since 9/11. Russell Sage Foundation, 2008.
Fadil, Nadia. Submitting to God, submitting to the self: Secular and religious
trajectories of second generation Maghrebi in Belgium. 2008.
Fadil, Nadia, and Mayanthi Fernando. “Rediscovering the “everyday” Muslim:
Notes on an anthropological divide.” HAU: Journal of Ethnographic Theory
5, no. 2 (2015): 59–88.
Govaart, Margriet-Marie, Henk J. Van Daal, Angelika Münz, and Jolanda
Keesom. Volunteering worldwide. Utrecht: NIZW, 2001.
Halman, Loek, and Ruud De Moor. “Religion, churches and moral values.”
In The individualizing society; value change in Europe and North America,
pp. 37–65, 1994.
Hassan, M. Kabir. “An integrated poverty alleviation model combining
zakat, awqaf and micro-finance.” In Seventh International Conference—
The Tawhidic epistemology: Zakat and waqf economy, pp. 261–281. Bangi,
Malaysia, 2010.
Hustinx, Lesley. “Individualisation and new styles of youth volunteering: An
empirical exploration.” Voluntary Action 3, no. 2 (2001): 57–76.
 1 Introduction 21

Kearney, J. “The values and basic principles of volunteering: Complacency or

caution?” Voluntary Action – London Institute for Volunteering Research 3, no.
3 (2001): 63–86.
Kuran, Timur. “Islamic economics and the Islamic subeconomy.” The Journal
of Economic Perspectives 9, no. 4 (1995): 155–173.
Mitchell, Richard Paul. The society of the Muslim Brothers. Oxford University
Press, 1969.
Pearce, Jone L. Volunteers: The organizational behavior of unpaid workers.
Routledge, 1993.
Petersen, Marie Juul. “Islamizing aid: Transnational Muslim NGOs after
9.11.” Voluntas: International Journal of Voluntary and Nonprofit Organiza-
tions 23, no. 1 (2012): 126–155.
Putnam, Robert D. “Bowling alone: America’s declining social capital.” In
Culture and politics, pp. 223–234. Palgrave Macmillan US, 2000.
Salim, Arskal. The shift in the Zakat practice in Indonesia: From piety to an
Islamic socio-political-economic system, 2008.
Salvatore, Armando. Islam and the political discourse of modernity. Vol. 4. Ithaca
Press (GB), 1997.
Schielke, Samuli. “Hegemonic encounters: Criticism of saints-day festivals and
the formation of modern Islam in late 19th and early 20th-century Egypt.”
Die Welt des Islams 47, no. 3 (2007): 319–355.
Trundle, Catherine. “The transformation of compassion and the ethics of inter-
action within charity practices.” In Differentiating development: Beyond an
anthropology of critique, pp. 210–226, 2012.
Trundle, Catherine. Americans in Tuscany: Charity, compassion, and belonging.
Vol. 36. Berghahn Books, 2014.
Tuğal, Cihan. “Contesting benevolence: Market orientations among Muslim
aid providers in Egypt.” Qualitative Sociology 36, no. 2 (2013): 141–159.
Wilson, John. “Volunteering.” Annual Review of Sociology 26, no. 1 (2000):
215–240.
Wuthnow, Robert. “The voluntary sector: Legacy of the past, hope for the
future?” In Between states and markets: The voluntary sector in comparative
perspective, pp. 3–29, 1991.
Wuthnow, Robert. After heaven: Spirituality in America since the 1950s. Univer-
sity of California Press, 1998.
 2
Getting Acquainted with the Volunteers

The research undertaken for this book is a result of my own doctoral

project. The project involved ethnographic research into several volun-
teering associations in Brussels and Flanders. When I first started
working on the project in January 2014, I started going to the events
that were organized by the female associations in Brussels. Starting with
Brussels was easier, as I was already living close to the city and could
attend the events that usually took place late in the evenings and over
the weekends. It also made more sense because a lot of the main associa-
tions are in Brussels, and being familiar with those made it much easier
for me to access the others.
I started attending any event I possibly could that was organized by
the volunteers, from cooking classes to roundtable debates to panels at
the European Union (EU). Soon, nearly everyone was familiar with me
and with the idea that I was actually doing research on their volun-
teering. Retrospectively, the idea of research may not have stirred much
excitement, because they really took no interest in my being there,
taking notes, asking questions, and obsessively following their every
move. My interlocutors were already used to short-term researchers
and Master’s students, and even journalists spending time with them.
© The Author(s) 2020 23
M. R. Kayikci, Islamic Ethics and Female Volunteering,
New Directions in Islam,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-50664-3_2
24 M. R. Kayikci

Another researcher did not add much excitement or change their lives,
and I enjoyed their ease around me in the first few months. In fact, their
ease and comfort allowed me to be more comfortable in being ‘nosy.’
It was only after four to five months with the volunteers that I felt this
situation should change. I do not know what I was expecting, but I think
it was some sort of bond with the volunteers. I wanted to be taken into
consideration when they organized events. I already knew the executives
of the associations, the presidents, vice presidents and secretaries, all of
whom had my e-mail and phone number. They would drop me a line
and inform me of an event when it happened, but this was not enough. I
always had the impression that so much was going on behind the scenes,
so many mishaps, discussions, arguments, intimacies. I was not part of
that intimacy, and while I was familiar, I was still in the position of the
audience; I was one of those who were meant to see the product, the
event itself, and not behind the scenes.
Not only were they not even remotely interested in what I did, but
I felt that they saw it as some sort of a temporary ‘school project.’
Being so young, only 23, did not help, as I was at least seven years
younger than my youngest interlocutor. But as the years went by, and
I got married, and the fieldwork grew more intense, I noticed that my
interlocutors took me more seriously, and truth be told, more like an
adult. It obviously helped when I got married, as they saw me juggle my
responsibilities and basically become ‘one of them.’
The turnover of people within the associations was very high. Some
of the executives that I grew very close to and who helped introduce me
to most of my interlocutors during the first years left their positions and
moved on to different jobs and even countries. As a researcher, it was
difficult to keep up with these flows because with every new person I
had to re-introduce myself and re-gain their trust. I would get so close
to some of my interlocutors that I could ask them favors (with regards
to attending events) and even visit them unannounced, and then the
next day that could simply change because of turnover. The rest of my
interlocutors were very used to this, however, and had a much easier time
adjusting. Of course, they did not have the problem of re-instating trust,
but even working with different people for short time periods did not
seem to bother them.
 2 Getting Acquainted with the Volunteers 25

My interlocutors found many different foundations in Brussels, and

each has a different focus. Some of them concentrate on youth issues,
some on education, others on networking businesspeople and profes-
sionals, and some are women’s associations. While they all have a
different focus, the members and administrators of each association help
the others in every way possible when organizing an event. All the asso-
ciations are interlinked because of their members’ mobility, and all the
associations are members of one larger umbrella association. I began this
research with the aim of studying ‘women’s associations,’ but early in my
fieldwork I understood that it would not be possible. Although there
are ‘women’s associations,’ there is literally no event limited to women,
and women partner with other associations that are mixed gendered.
I realized I had to change my focus. I was not to focus on women’s
associations, but on female volunteers.
My interest in women came from my own background. I could have
easily conducted this research with both men and women, but coming
from a Turkish background, I anticipated that it would be difficult for my
male interlocutors (who are all pious men) to be as comfortable around
me as women are. Doing research entailed my being alone with some
of my interlocutors, spending time in their homes, walking in the city
with them, sometimes attending late-night meetings, and this would be
incredibly difficult and uncomfortable (both for me and them) if my
interlocutors were men. I cross-checked this presumption with some of
my respondents, who agreed. To cut a long story short, by June 2014, I
was now following around my female interlocutors, who volunteered for
associations of both genders.
After the summer of 2014, I decided to get to know the associations
in Flanders. I set out with Elif, my gatekeeper, who was also a president
of one association. She came to my apartment one evening and called me
from her car. I was a little hesitant about attending the event as it was
in Dutch and late in the evening. However, Elif called me downstairs
and literally dragged me inside her car, promising she would translate.
“We want to look as numerous as possible. Every person counts,” she
said, exasperated by my reluctance. So there we were, on our way to
Antwerp for an evening event at the local city hall. The female volunteers
in Antwerp had organized a panel about discrimination against women
26 M. R. Kayikci

in the labor force. I sat through that event, even though I did not under-
stand one word of their Dutch (it turned out that Elif was too busy to
translate), just to meet Gulsah, the head of the Antwerp women’s asso-
ciation. She proved to be a very important person for my research in
Flanders. Not only did she introduce me to most of her entourage, and
even arrange and plan our interviews, she also gave me a lot of infor-
mation about the city and how their events were different in scope and
structure from the ones in Brussels.
Antwerp is a Flemish city through and through, and the linguistic
diversity of Brussels is absent in Antwerp. What this means for the events
in that city is that the associations and all their events are organized in
Dutch. This unity makes it easier for them to interact with the local
‘white’ Belgians. These are the words of Gulsah, who has been a volunteer
in Antwerp for more than a decade.
The Europeanness and the diversity in Brussels are reflected in the
city’s associations’ events. Events at the EU might be in English; else-
where they might be in French and Dutch, addressing both linguistic
groups and their issues. The Flemishness of Antwerp also draws volun-
teers from other parts of Flanders. This is why, when I met Gulsah, I
decided my research would be narrowed to Brussels and Antwerp.
In December 2014, I was acquainted and familiar with the asso-
ciations in Brussels and Antwerp. The associations themselves were
established in 2008, so that the women had an official space to volun-
teer. They do not really tackle women’s issues, but try to tackle social and
economic problems relating to women. What that means is they try to
incorporate (especially minority) women in their associations and mobi-
lize them to raise awareness and solutions to problems pertaining to their
social setting. They also state that by doing so, they enable women to
be more confident, active, expressive, and educated. They make explic-
itly clear that they are not a gender-segregated association, and want
to provide a platform where people can co-exist together, peacefully,
regardless of differences.
My interlocutors are all pious women, and as I unpack throughout this
book, volunteering for them is a route towards perfecting piety. Never-
theless, none of the associations has a religious component in its mission
 2 Getting Acquainted with the Volunteers 27

statement, and likewise, their events do not incorporate religious compo-

nents. My interlocutors do not organize an event that references Islam
or is held at an Islamic setting, like a mosque. They do not organize
any program that involves religious education, like the Diyanet or Milli
Gorus. While the secular is a concept open to debate, and one which
I unpack in the coming chapters, they frame their events as ‘secular,’
in that they do not reference a specific religion. This is true for their
associations. I found out how it changed in their ‘private’ lives.

Sohbet Meetings
During the second and third years of my fieldwork, I became part of a
larger network of volunteers. Having attended numerous events, I grad-
ually became very familiar with certain gatekeepers, women who were
very well known and trusted within the volunteering scene. Like I said
before, it was very difficult for me to be taken seriously at first, but once
one person took my research seriously, the work picked up speed. For
me that person was Elif, my close interlocutor and later friend, who
eventually moved back to Turkey for her husband’s job. One evening,
after a panel debate, Elif asked me if I wanted to participate in a discus-
sion group later on. It would not take place in the association but in
someone’s home, and it would be very informal; they would just come
together to talk about God and stuff. I agreed to be part of the discussion
group, and later that evening, took a bus to Laeken for my first sohbet.
Sohbet means conversation in Turkish. The sohbet meetings are places
where a number of women come together to discuss a pre-determined
subject from a religious book, sermon video, or other religious text. The
sohbet sessions are seen as gatherings during which they obtain knowl-
edge through active discussion and explanation of the texts by a leading
figure, one who probably has more experience with the texts that the rest
of the women. The leading figure, who is also a woman, may not neces-
sarily have been through any formal religious education, but she would
have more experience with the texts and would initiate the discussions.
Sometimes, sohbets are active, and everyone participates; other times,
they may be passive and the leading figure is the only one to speak.
28 M. R. Kayikci

These are spaces where knowledge is transmitted, and the women have
the chance to actively share their experiences and articulate knowledge
through those experiences. This is a space to unwind from the daily
hassles and immerse in spirituality. It is also a space where the women can
socialize on a busy weekday. Most of the women have known each other
for years, and the informal, cozy setting of the homes reflects the inti-
mate atmosphere. The hostess always makes some delicacies, and if the
hostess is really good in the kitchen, the evening could be quite extrav-
agant. The intimacy of the home, the food, the tea, and the company
of women make the sohbet meetings much more informal than a classic
lesson, but they also provide the kind of space where the women can be
open about themselves, their lives, and their thoughts. It is the sohbet
where I got to know my interlocutors. The sohbet is the backstage that I
mentioned before: the place where the real action took place, the delib-
eration and honesty. The events are always polished, but the sohbet, the
place where those events are developed, is raw and most insightful.
These meetings are not just random. Every sohbet group has its own
internal structure. Every group has its teacher or co-ordinator, someone
who organizes the dates and places of the meeting and initiates the
discussions. The co-ordinator also decides who will be part of their
group. Each group comprises roughly ten women, and if it grows to
be more, the group is divided. The women who are in these groups
are usually from the same age and occupational group. It is difficult to
find a group where there are members of different generations or educa-
tional backgrounds. Doctors are usually in the same group with other
doctors; housewives with housewives; and blue-collar workers with other
blue-collar workers. The main reason for this is working hours. House-
wives meet during daytime when their children are at school; women
who work meet in the evening after work, and so on. Since these women
are volunteers and the main component of volunteering is charity, it is
important that the women in the same groups are from similar socio-
economic backgrounds, ensuring they do not feel uncomfortable about
money. Collecting money is usually done very openly among my inter-
locutors; hence, they are careful that people can be comfortable at such
events.
 2 Getting Acquainted with the Volunteers 29

The final important point about the sohbet groups is that these are the
spaces where decisions are made. It is usually within these circles that the
women decide on their yearly event calendar and distribute the duties
among themselves. I have participated in many different groups, with
housewives and doctors, from blue-collar workers to university students.
I have seen that the event calendars and the major decisions are usually
developed by the more highly educated (often professional) women. The
others are expected to contribute logistically. The decision-makers also
contribute logistically, with their labor, money, and time, but they make
the calls.
There is the impression that these women (and men) have a better
comprehension of their social and political environment, and also of
their own human capital of volunteers. Those from the more highly
educated layer of volunteers are always at the forefront of events and
represent their team.

A Tale of Two Cities: Brussels and Antwerp

The two cities that hosted this research are Brussels and Antwerp. Both
cities in a way represent the complicated political, social, and linguistic
composition of Belgium as a federal country. Belgium is a multi-nation
state (Kymlicka 1995), consisting of three cultural communities: the
Flemish, the Francophone, and a small Germanophone group (Jacobs
2000, 290). Belgium was a unitary state until 1970, after which consti-
tutional reforms took place (1970, 1980, 1988), eventually leading to
a more complicated and ‘diverse’ political system (Jacobs 2000, 290).
With the 1993 constitutional reform, Belgium was finally acknowl-
edged as a federal state (Jacobs 2000, 290). Although the country is
comprised of three cultural groups, the main political divide is between
the Flemish and Francophone administrative regions, with the sepa-
rate Brussels-Capital region making the third (Murphy 2002, 696). The
Flemish region, Flanders, is located in the northern part of the country
that officially speaks the Dutch language (Murphy 2002, 696). Wallonia
is the French-speaking region, while Brussels is administratively bilingual
(Murphy 2002, 696).
30 M. R. Kayikci

Brussels had—and still has—a majority French-speaking population,

reaching about 75–80% of the population (De Vriendt and Van de
Craen 1990). Although Dutch is a minority language in the city, it is
still officially recognized (Jacobs 2000). It is difficult to think of Brus-
sels as having closer cultural ties to Wallonia, as Brussels is a culturally
complex region with a cosmopolitan essence, influenced by aspects of
both the French- and Dutch-speaking communities (Murphy 2002).
The cultural and linguistic complexity of the city has meant that things
have not always proceeded swimmingly. Language has historically been
a key point of identity politics in Belgium, emerging initially between
the elites of both language groups as nationalism propelled a struggle
for power (Blommaert 2011). The Flemish Movement sought bilingual
status for the Flemish-speaking provinces, and in the 1930s achieved
mono-lingualism in the northern part of the country (Lecours 2001, 62).
I never felt these tensions with the volunteers. Especially in Brussels,
which is a meeting point for the volunteers living in the nearby Flemish
Brabant and French-speaking communities, the volunteering scene is
multi-lingual. This reflects the city’s general cosmopolitan fabric, and for
the volunteers Turkish is always a common denominator. Oftentimes,
the volunteers worked together with the other linguistic communities
quite comfortably and were very well aware of what was going on in the
associations in other cities. Although the associations followed different
agendas, the volunteers met regularly and discussed their plans together
over meetings that started with breakfast and usually stretched to lunch.
They often spoke in their common language, Turkish, and I was able
to participate in Turkish. Indeed, most of the discussions in this book
actually took place in Turkish and were later translated into English by
me.
Brussels also hosts the European quarter and EU institutions, making
it an attractive city for civil society, NGOs, foreign MPs, and expats.
My interlocutors know that this is an avenue where their volunteering
can stretch and attract more attention in the international scene. A
lot of the events that take place in Brussels are carried out in English,
and are aimed at the EU and the civil society organizations clustered
around the EU. It also helps that the EU is highly interested in inter-
faith–intercultural dialogue, and that the volunteers always keep that as
 2 Getting Acquainted with the Volunteers 31

a reference point in their activities. My interlocutors are not unique in

their interest, as there are many dialogue associations spread around the
European quarter. My interlocutors’ dialogue events are often attended
by members of other dialogue associations. While in Antwerp, the volun-
teers still uphold dialogue their proximity to Brussels and the EU makes
them turn more to the national context and national issues. Both cities
do work together in bigger activities like symposiums at the European
Parliament and most of the volunteers from each city are acquainted with
each other.
Although I refer to Brussels as a ‘city,’ it technically is not. This
point is elaborately explained by Jacobs and Swyngedouw (2003), who
assert that it is actually a region with its own regional government and
legally does not have a city government (Jacobs and Swyngedouw 2003,
129). There are 19 autonomous municipalities connected to Brussels,
most of which have a highly diverse ethnic and linguistic composition
(Jacobs and Swyngedouw 2003). Following the work of Kymlicka, Jacobs
describes Brussels as a “polyethnic society” (Jacobs 2000, 292; see also
Kymlicka 1995, 15). This means that not only are there are multiple
different ethnic groups present and also “integrated into the local soci-
etal structures of the capital,” there are also a number of ethnic minority
groups that want to “preserve their own cultural identities” (Kymlicka
1995, 15).
Brussels is composed of 45 different nationalities, with an ever-
increasing pattern of diversification due to incoming inhabitants from
other European countries (Deboosere et al. 2009). To stress the issue of
diversity, I would like to indicate that in 2001, 46% of those who were
born in Brussels were not of Belgian nationality by birth (Deboosere
et al. 2009, 2). The numbers increase as we consider children born to
parents who were not of Belgian nationality by birth. Of Brussels’ non-
EU inhabitants, 50% are of Moroccan origin (Jacobs 2000, 292). The
northern parts of the city, where the Saint-Josse-ten-Node and Schaer-
beek communes are located, are populated by a large Turkish population
that constituted up to 21% of the whole population (Kesteloot and
Mistiaen 1997, 325).
Not unlike Brussels, Antwerp has its fair share of diversity. Located
about an hours’ drive north of Brussels, the city is the capital of the
32 M. R. Kayikci

Flemish region. Antwerp is home to about 470,000 inhabitants, 50,000

of whom have origins in Morocco (Smets 2012). It is estimated that
42.1% of the city’s population is of foreign descent (Saeys et al. 2014).
Some scholars suggest that the diversity is not reflected in the city’s
politics. The majority Belgian-Flemish community holds a dominant
position when compared with the minority. Educated ‘white’ (Flemish)
men are still key position-holders in “political, educational, and socio-
cultural” areas (Clycq 2015). This, inevitably, has an impact on the city’s
policy-making, “its appreciation of differences and similarities between
groups and communities” (Clycq 2015). On a more macro-political
level, the notorious far-right, anti-immigrant Vlams Belang party gained
important support from the city during the 1990s and 2000s (Saeys et al.
2014). The general consensus, however, is that in an increasingly diverse
city, political debates such as those that take place in Belgium are highly
determined by the policies in Antwerp (Saeys et al. 2014).
During my fieldwork days, when I would visit the association in
Antwerp, I would take the tram from the city’s majestic central train
station. After what I always believed to be a long tram trip, I would get
off at Berendrechtstraat. From the many Turkish named shops, bakeries,
and the tightly closed beautiful lace curtains, I would know that I was
in the ‘Turkish neighborhood.’ This neighborhood is not close to the
bustling city center, where I would get off the train from Brussels. It
has a kind of suburban feel, with its semi-detached houses. While all
my interlocutors in Brussels lived, worked, and volunteered in Brus-
sels, I cannot say the same for Antwerp. Being a big city close to many
smaller towns and districts, Antwerp attracted many volunteers from
neighboring smaller municipalities, such as Mol and Diest. My younger
interlocutors, who studied at the University of Antwerp, particularly
seemed to prefer volunteering in the bigger city.
Now that we have discussed the general diversity embedded in
these two important Belgian cities, the next section gives an overview
of the migration history. It elaborates on the European and non-
European/Mediterranean–North African labor migration that led to this
great diversity. The focus from hereon will be more specifically the
‘Muslim migration’ to Belgium and its social and political implications.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 Thus, even at Medîna, sedition spread,
and from thence messages reached the Aly expostulates with
provinces that the sword would soon be Othmân.
needed there at home, rather than in foreign parts. So general was
the contagion that but few are named as having escaped it.[469]
Moved by the leading citizens, Aly repaired to Othmân and said:
—‘The people bid me expostulate with thee. Yet what can I say to
thee—son-in-law as thou wast of the Prophet and his bosom friend—
that thou already knowest not as well as I? The way lieth plain and
wide before thee; but thine eyes are blinded that thou canst not see
it. If blood be once shed, it will not cease to flow until the Day of
Judgment. Right will be blotted out, and treason rage like the
foaming waves of the sea.’ Othmân complained, and not without
reason, of the unfriendly attitude assumed by Aly himself. ‘For my
own part,’ he said, ‘I have done my best; and as for the men ye
speak of, did not Omar himself appoint Moghîra to Kûfa; and if Ibn
Aámir be my kinsman, is he any the worse for that?’ ‘No,’ replied Aly;
‘but Omar kept his lieutenants in order, and when they did wrong he
punished them; whereas thou treatest them softly, because they are
thy kinsmen.’[470] ‘And Muâvia, too,’ continued the Caliph; ‘it was
Omar who appointed him to Syria.’ ‘Yes,’ answered Aly; ‘but I swear
that even Omar’s slaves did not stand so much in awe of their
master, as did Muâvia. But now he doth whatever he pleaseth, and
saith It is Othmân. And thou, knowing it all, leavest him alone!’ So
saying, Aly turned and went his way.
As Aly’s message professed to come
from the people, Othmân went straightway Othmân appeals to the
to the pulpit and addressed the multitude people.
then assembled for prayer in the Great Mosque. He reproached
them for giving vent to their tongues and following evil leaders,
whose object it was to blacken his name, exaggerate his faults, and
hide his virtues. ‘Ye blame me,’ he said, ‘for things which ye bore
cheerfully from Omar. He trampled on you, beat you about with his
whip, and abused you. And yet ye took it all patiently from him, both
in what ye liked and what ye disliked. I have been gentle with you;
bended my back unto you; withheld my tongue from reviling, and my
hand from smiting. And now ye rise up against me!’ Then, after
dwelling on the prosperity of his reign at home and abroad, and the
many benefits that had accrued to them therefrom, he ended thus:
—‘Wherefore, refrain, I beseech you, from your abuse of me and of
my governors, lest ye kindle the flames of sedition and revolt
throughout the empire.’ The appeal (we are told) was marred by his
cousin Merwân, who at its close exclaimed, ‘If ye will oppose the
Caliph, we shall soon bring it to the issue of the sword.’ ‘Be silent!’
cried Othmân, ‘and leave me with my fellows alone. Did I not tell
thee not to speak?’ So Merwân remained silent, and Othmân
descended from the pulpit. The harangue had no effect for good.
The discontent spread, and the gatherings against the Caliph
multiplied.[471]
Thus ended the eleventh year of
Othmân’s reign. Near the close of it was Close of Othmân’s eleventh
year.
held a memorable council, of which we
shall read in the following chapter. The Caliph performed the
pilgrimage as usual. He had done so every year. But this was to be
his last.
 CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE OUTLOOK DARKENS.

A.H. XXXIV.—XXXV. A.D. 655.

The unhappy Caliph was now being

hurried on, by the rapid course of events, Contumelious treatment of
helplessly to his sad end. Abd al Rahmân, Othmân.
who, no doubt, felt a large measure of responsibility from the share
he took in the nomination of Othmân, was about this time removed
by death. But even he was dissatisfied; and one of the first open
denunciations of Othmân’s unscrupulous disregard of law—small it
might be, but significant—is attributed to him. A fine camel, having
come in with the tithes of a Bedouin tribe, was presented by the
Caliph, as a rarity, to one of his kinsfolk. Abd al Rahmân,
scandalised at the misappropriation of religious property devoted to
the poor, laid hands upon the animal, slaughtered it, and divided the
flesh among the people. The personal reverence attaching
heretofore to the ‘Successor of the Prophet of the Lord,’ gave place
to slight and disregard. Even in the streets, Othmân was greeted
with cries, demanding that he should depose Ibn Aámir and the
godless Abu Sarh, and put away from him Merwân, his chief adviser
and confidant. Nor had he any countenance or support whatever
from the people excepting his immediate kinsmen, and reliance upon
them only aggravated the clamour of the discontented.[472]
The conspirators canvassed in the
dark. They had been hitherto burrowing Othmân sends forth
carefully under ground. But now their messengers to inquire into
the feeling in the provinces.
machinations every here and there were
coming to the light, and rumours of treason began to float abroad.
The better affected classes in the great cities felt uneasy; alarm crept
over all hearts. Letters were continually received at Medîna, asking
what these ominous sounds of warning meant, and what catastrophe
was at hand. The chief men of Medîna kept coming to the Caliph’s
court for tidings; but, notwithstanding the sullen mutterings of nearing
tempest, the surface yet was still. At last, by their advice, Othmân
despatched four trusty persons one to each of the great centres,
Damascus, Kûfa, Bussorah, and Fostât, with a commission to watch
and report whether any suspicious symptoms were transpiring
anywhere.[473] Three returned saying that they discovered nothing
unusual in the aspect of affairs. The fourth, Ammâr, was looked for in
vain; he had, in fact, been tampered with and gained over by the
Egyptian faction. Thereupon Othmân despatched a royal edict to all
the provinces as follows:—At the coming pilgrimage the various
governors would, according to custom, present themselves at court;
whoever, then, had cause of complaint against them, or any other
ground of dissatisfaction, should come forward on that occasion and
substantiate the same, when wrong would be redressed; or else it
behoved them to withdraw the baseless calumnies which were
troubling men’s minds. Proclamation was made accordingly. The
plaintive appeal was understood; and the people in many places
when they heard it wept, and invoked mercy on their Caliph.
The governors repaired to Medîna at
the time appointed, but no malcontent Conference of Governors at
came forward to make complaint. Medîna. 655.
a.h. XXXIV. a.d.

Questioned by Othmân, his lieutenants

knew not of any grievance, real and substantial. To the outward eye,
everything was calm; and even the royal messengers sent to make
inquisition had returned without laying hand on anything amiss. But
all knew of the cancerous sore in the body politic, and of its
spreading rapidly. The wretched Caliph invoked their pity and their
counsel. But they could offer nothing of which he might lay hold. One
advised that the conspirators should be arrested and the ringleaders
put to death; another that the stipends should be forfeited of all
disloyal men; a third that the unquiet spirits amongst the people
should be diverted by some fresh campaign; others that the
governors should amend their ways. Othmân was bewildered; one
thing only he declared, that to measures of severity he never would
assent; the single remedy he could approve was the sending of fresh
expeditions to foreign parts.[474]
 Nothing was settled to avert the crisis,
and the governors departed as they came. Othmân declines help from
When Muâvia made ready to leave, he Muâvia.
once more warned Othmân of his danger, and entreated that he
would retire with him to Syria, where a loyal people were ready to
rally round him. But the Caliph answered: ‘Even to save my life I will
not quit the land wherein the Prophet sojourned, nor the city wherein
his sacred person resteth.’ ‘Then let me send an army to stand by
thee.’ ‘Nay, that I will not,’ responded Othmân firmly; ‘I never will put
force on those who dwell around the Prophet’s home, by quartering
bands of armed men upon them.’ ‘In that case,’ replied Muâvia, ‘I
see nought but destruction awaiting thee.’ ‘Then the Lord be my
defence,’ exclaimed the aged Caliph, ‘and that sufficeth for me.’[475]
‘Fare thee well!’ said Muâvia, and he departed, to see his face no
more.
As he took the road to Syria, Muâvia
passed by a group of the Coreish, amongst Muâvia retires, warning the
whom were Aly and Zobeir. He stayed for a Coreish.
moment to drop a warning word into their ears. They were drifting
back, he said, into the anarchy of ‘the days of Ignorance’ before
Islam. The Lord was a strong Avenger of the weak and injured ones.
‘To you’—and these were his last words—‘to you I commit this
helpless aged man. Help him, and it will be the better for you. Fare
ye well.’ And so saying he passed on his way. The company
remained some time in silence. At last Aly spoke: ‘It will be best done
as he hath said.’ ‘By the Lord!’ added Zobeir, ‘there never lay a
burden heavier on thy breast, nor yet on ours, than this burden of
Othmân’s to-day.’
 CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE PLOT RIPENS. CONSPIRATORS ATTACK MEDINA. DEATH
OF OTHMAN.

A.H. XXXV. A.D. 656.

The plot was now rapidly coming to a

head, and a plan of action had been Plot to surprise Medîna. End
already fixed. While the lieutenants of the of a.h. XXXIV. Summer of
a.d. 655.
Caliph were absent from their posts on the
occasion just described, the conspirators were to issue from Kûfa,
Bussorah, and Fostât, so as to converge upon Medîna in combined
and menacing force. There, in answer to the Caliph’s challenge, they
would present an endless roll of complaints, and cry loudly for
redress, reform, and the removal of their governors. If the request
were denied, they would demand the abdication of Othmân, and, in
the last resort, enforce their demand at the point of the sword. But as
to a successor they were not agreed. Kûfa was for Zobeir; Bussorah
was for Talha; Egypt’s favourite was Aly.
The scheme, being immature, at first
miscarried. But months later, in the middle The conspirators set out for
Medîna. Shawwâl, XXXV.
of the following year, it was revived and April, a.d. 656.
preparations made in secret for giving it
effect. Under the pretext of visiting Mecca, and there performing the
Lesser Pilgrimage, the concerted movement at last took place, two
or three months before the annual pilgrimage.[476] Abu Sarh, the
Governor of Egypt, on learning of the treasonable design, at once
despatched a messenger to apprise Othmân. In reply he was
ordered to pursue the rebels; he did so, but it was too late; they had
marched beyond his reach. On turning back, he found Egypt in the
hands of the traitor, son of Abu Hodzeifa,[477] and fleeing for his life,
took refuge across the border, in Palestine. Amongst the insurgent
leaders of Egypt was Mohammed, son of Abu Bekr.
 On receiving the intelligence that the
insurgents were marching on Medîna, The insurgents encamp near
Othmân ascended the pulpit of the Great Medîna; but retire.
Mosque and made known to the citizens the real object of attack. ‘It
is against myself,’ he said; ‘soon they will look back with a longing
eye to this my Caliphate, and wish that each day of the same had
been a year in length, because of the tumult and bloodshed, anarchy
and ungodliness, that will flood the land.’ The rebels were not long in
making their appearance, and they pitched three camps, the men of
Kûfa, Bussorah, and Egypt, each encamping separately, in the
neighbourhood of Medîna.[478] The citizens put on their armour, a
thing unheard of since the days of the Apostasy in the reign of Abu
Bekr, and prepared for resistance. The insurgents, foiled thus far,
sent deputies to the widows of Mahomet, and the chief men of the
city. ‘We come,’ they said, ‘to visit the Prophet’s home and resting-
place, and to ask that certain of the governors be deposed. Give us
leave to enter.’ But leave was not granted. Then the insurgent bands
despatched each a deputation to its respective candidate. Aly
stormed at the messengers sent to him as soon as they appeared,
and called them rebels accursed of the Prophet; and the others met
with no better reception at the hands of Talha and Zobeir. Unable to
gain over the citizens, without whose consent their object was out of
reach, the rebel leaders declared themselves satisfied with a
promise from the Caliph of reform, and, breaking up their camp,
retired in the order in which they came. They made as if each
company was taking its way home again, but really with the
concerted plan of returning shortly, when they expected to find the
city less prepared to resist.[479] The citizens cast aside their armour,
rejoicing in the apparent deliverance from a pressing danger; and for
some days things went on as before, Othmân leading the prayers.
Suddenly, the three bands reappeared at the city gates. A party
headed by Aly went forth to ask the reason. The strangers pointed to
a document attested by the Caliph’s seal;
this, they said, had been taken from a They return with document
servant of Othmân’s whom they caught bearing the Caliph’s seal.
hastening on the road to Egypt; and it contained orders that the
insurgents were to be seized and imprisoned, some tortured, and
some put to death. Aly, suspecting collusion, asked how the
discovery made by the Egyptian company on the road to Fostât had
become so promptly known to the others marching in quite a
different direction, to Kûfa and Bussorah, as to bring them all back
together? ‘Speak of it as ye will,’ they said, ‘here is the writing, and
here the Caliph’s seal.’ Aly repaired to Othmân, who denied all
knowledge of the document; but, with the view of clearing up the
matter, consented to receive a deputation of the rebel leaders.
Introduced by Aly, they made no obeisance to the Caliph, but with
defiant attitude approached and recounted their grievances. They
had retired with the promise of redress;
but, instead of redress, here was the Angry altercation with the
Caliph’s own servant whom they had Caliph.
caught posting onward to Egypt with the treacherous document now
produced. Othmân swore solemnly that he knew nothing of it. ‘Then
say who it was that wrote this order.’ ‘I know not,’ said the aged
Caliph. ‘But it was passed off as thine; thy servant carried it; see,
here is thy seal, and yet thou wast not privy to it!’ Again Othmân
affirmed that it was even so.[480] ‘Either thou speakest truth,’ they
cried in accents loud and rude, ‘or thou art a liar. Either way, thou art
unworthy of the Caliphate. We dare not leave the sceptre in the
hands of one who is either a knave or a fool too weak to govern
others. Resign, for the Lord hath deposed thee!’ Othmân made
answer:—‘The garment wherewith the Lord hath girded me I will in
no wise put off; but any evil ye complain of, that I am ready to put
away from me.’ It was all too late, they cried; he had often made, and
as often broken, the promise to amend; they could no longer put any
trust in him; now they would fight until he abdicated, or else was
slain. ‘Death,’ said Othmân, gathering himself up, with the firmness
and dignity which marked his last days—‘Death I prefer; as for
fighting, I have said it already, my people shall not fight; had that
been my desire, I had summoned legions to my side.’ The altercation
becoming loud and violent, Aly arose and departed to his home. The
conspirators also retired to their fellows; but they had now secured
what they wanted, a footing in the city. They joined in the ranks of
worshippers at the daily prayers in the Great Mosque, cast dust in
the face of Othmân as he officiated, and threatened the citizens to
make them keep away. The fatal crisis was hurrying on.
On the Friday following this scene,
when the prayers were done, Othmân Tumult in the Mosque;
ascended the pulpit. He first appealed to Othmân struck down.
the better sense of the citizens, who (he knew), however cowed by
the threats of the rebels, condemned their lawless attitude. Then
turning to the conspirators themselves, who had been taking part in
the service, he continued, ‘Ye are aware that the men of Medîna hold
you to be accursed at the mouth of the Prophet, for that ye have
risen up against his Caliph and Vicegerent. Wherefore wipe out now
your evil deeds by repentance, and by good deeds atone for the
same.’ One and another of the loyal citizens arose earnestly to
confirm the Caliph’s words and plead his cause; but they were
silenced and violently set down.[481] A tumult arose. The men of
Medîna were driven from the Mosque and its court, by showers of
stones. One of these struck Othmân, who fell from the pulpit to the
ground, and was carried to his house adjoining in a swoon. He soon
recovered, and for some days was still able to preside at the daily
prayers. But at last the insolence and violence of the insurgents,
rising beyond bounds, forced him to keep to his house, and a virtual
blockade ensued. But a body-guard of armed retainers, supported by
certain of the citizens, succeeded for the present in keeping the
entrance safe.
From the day of the first tumult, Aly,
Zobeir, and Talha (the three named by the Attitude of Aly, Zobeir, and
rebels as candidates for the Caliphate) Talha.
each sent a son to join the loyal and gallant band planted at the
palace door. But they did little more; and, in fact, throughout the
painful episode, they kept themselves altogether in the background.
After the uproar and Othmân’s swoon, they came along with others
to inquire how he fared. But no sooner did they enter, than Merwân
and other kinsmen tending the Caliph, cried out against Aly as the
prime author of the disaster, which would recoil, they said (and said
truly) upon his own head. Thereupon Aly arose in wrath, and, with
the rest, retired home. It was, in truth, a cruel and dastardly
desertion, and in the end bore bitter fruit for one and all. It was not
only a crime, but a fatal mistake. Alarm at the defiant rising against
constituted authority, and loyalty to the throne, equally demanded
bold and uncompromising measures. The truth was outspoken by
one of the Companions at the time. ‘Ye Coreish,’ he said, ‘there hath
been till now a strong and fenced door betwixt you and the Arabs;
wherefore do ye now break down the same?’[482]
So soon as the conspirators had shown
their true colours, Othmân despatched an Othmân closely besieged,
holds parley with Aly, Zobeir,
urgent summons to Syria and Bussorah for and Talha.
help. Muâvia, who had long foreseen the
dire necessity, was ready with a strong force which, as well as a
similar column sent by Ibn Aámir from Bussorah, hurried to their
master’s rescue. But the march was long, and the difficulty was for
Othmân to hold out until these columns reached. The insurgents had
entire possession of the Mosque and of the approaches to the
palace; and, in the height of insolence, their leader now took the
Caliph’s place at public prayers.[483] There were no troops at
Medîna, and Othmân was dependent on the little force that barely
sufficed to guard the palace entrance. It was composed of train-band
slaves, some eighteen near kinsmen, and other citizens including (as
we have said) the sons of Aly, Zobeir, and Talha. Apprehending, from
the ferocity with which the attack began now to be pressed, that the
end might not be far, Othmân sent to tell Aly, Zobeir, and Talha that
he wished to see them once more. They came and waited without
the palace, but within reach of hearing. The Caliph, from the flat roof
of his house, bade them to sit down; and so for the moment they all
sat down, both foes and friends, together. ‘My fellow citizens!’ cried
Othmân with a loud voice, ‘I have prayed to the Lord for you, that
when I am taken, he may set the Caliphate aright.’ After this, he
made mention of his previous life, and how the Lord had made
choice of him to be the Successor of his Prophet, and Commander
of the Faithful. ‘And now,’ said he, ‘ye have risen up to slay the
Lord’s elect. Have a care, ye men! (and here he addressed the
besiegers); the taking of life is lawful but for three things, Apostasy,
Murder, and Adultery. Taking my life without such cause, ye but
suspend the sword over your own necks. Sedition and bloodshed
shall not depart for ever from your midst.’ They gave him audience
thus far, and then cried out that there was yet a fourth just cause of
death, namely the quenching of truth by iniquity, and of right by
violence; and that for his ungodliness and tyranny he must abdicate
or be slain. For a moment Othmân was silent. Then calmly rising, he
bade the citizens go back to their homes; and himself, with but faint
hopes of relief, turned to re-enter his dreary abode.[484]
The blockade had now lasted several
weeks, when a mounted messenger The blockade pressed.
reached the city with tidings that succour Sufferings from thirst.
was on its way.[485] But this, coming to the knowledge of the Caliph’s
enemies, only made them redouble their efforts. They now closed
every approach, allowing neither outlet nor ingress to a single soul.
Water could be introduced by stealth only at night, and, there being
no well within the palace, the little garrison suffered the extremities of
thirst. On the appeal of Othmân, Aly interposed, and expostulated
with the besiegers. ‘They were treating their Caliph,’ he told them,
‘more cruelly than they would treat Greek or Persian captives in the
field. Even Infidels did not deny water to a thirsty enemy.’ But they
were deaf to his entreaty. Omm Habîba, the Prophet’s widow, and
sister of Muâvia, touched with pity, sought herself, with Aly’s aid, to
carry water upon her mule through the rebel lines into the palace; but
neither her sex nor rank, nor her relation to the Prophet, was
safeguard enough to prevent her being roughly handled. They cut
her bridle with their swords, so that she nearly fell to the ground, and
then drove her rudely back. The better part of the inhabitants were
shocked at the violence and inhumanity of the rebels; but none had
the courage to oppose them. Sick at heart, most kept to their
houses; while others, alarmed for themselves, as well as to avoid the
cruel spectacle, quitted Medîna. It is hard to believe that, even in the
defenceless state of the city, Aly, Zobeir, and Talha, the great heroes
of Islam, could not, had they really wished it, have raised an effective
opposition to the lawless work of these heartless regicides. History
cannot acquit them, if not of actual collusion with the insurgents, at
least of cold-blooded indifference to their Caliph’s fate.[486]
 The solemnities of the Káaba worship
were now at hand, and Othmân, still Annual pilgrimage to Mecca.
mindful of his obligation as head of Islam Dzul Hijj, a.h. XXXV. June,
a.d. 656.
to provide for their due observance, once
more ascended the palace roof. From thence he called the son of
Abbâs, one of the faithful party guarding the entrance, to come near,
and bade him assume the leadership of the band of pilgrims
proceeding from Medîna;—a duty which, much against his will, as
taking him away from the defence, he undertook at the Caliph’s
repeated command. Ayesha joined the party. She is accused of
having formerly stirred up the people against Othmân. Now, at any
rate, this impulsive lady not only shook herself free from the
insurgents, but, in order to detach her brother Mohammed, son of
Abu Bekr, also from their company, she besought him to accompany
her to Mecca. But he refused.[487]
The approach of relief at last goaded
the rebels to extremities, and they resolved The palace stormed. 18 Dzul
Hijj. June 17.
on a final and murderous attack. A violent
onset was made from all quarters, and the forlorn band of defenders
(including still the sons of Aly, Zobeir, and Talha), unable longer to
hold their ground, retired at Othmân’s command, but not without
difficulty, within the palace gate, which they closed and barred. In
doing this they covered their retreat with a discharge of archery, and
one of the rebels was killed thereby. Infuriated at their comrade’s
death, the insurgents rushed at the gate, battered it with stones, and
finding it too strong, sat down to burn it. Meanwhile others, swarming
in crowds from the roof of an adjoining building, gained an easier
access, and, rushing along the corridor, attacked the guard still
congregated within the palace gate. One was slain, Merwân was left
half dead, and the rest were overpowered.[488] Othmân had retired
by himself into an inner chamber of the women’s apartments; and,
seated there awaiting his fate, read from the Corân, spread open on
his knees. Three ruffians, sent to fulfil the bloody work, rushed in one
after another upon him thus engaged. Awed by his calm demeanour,
his pious words and mild appeal, each one returned as he went. ‘It
would be murder,’ they said, ‘to lay hands upon him thus.’
Mohammed, son of Abu Bekr, in his hate and rage, had no such
scruples. He ran in, seized him by the beard, and cried, ‘The Lord
abase thee, thou old dotard!’ ‘Let my beard go,’ said Othmân, calmly;
‘I am no dotard, but the aged Caliph, whom they call Othmân.’ Then,
in answer to a further torrent of abuse, the old man proceeded, ‘Son
of my brother! Thy father would not have served me so. The Lord
help me! To Him I flee for refuge from thee.’ The appeal touched
even the unworthy son of Abu Bekr, and he too retired. The
insurgent leaders, on this, crowded in
themselves, smote the Caliph with their And Othmân slain.
swords, and trampled on the Corân he had
been reading from. Severely wounded, he yet had strength enough
to stretch forth his aged arms, gather up the leaves, and press them
to his bosom, while the blood flowed forth upon the sacred text.[489]
Thus attacked, the faithful Nâila cast herself upon her wounded lord,
and, endeavouring to shield him, received a sword-cut which
severed some of the fingers from her hand, and they fell upon the
ground. The band of slaves attempted his defence. One of them
slew Sudân, the leader, but was immediately himself cut down and
killed. Further effort was in vain. They plunged their weapons into the
Caliph’s body, and he fell lifeless to the ground. The infuriated mob
now had their way. A scene of riot followed. They stabbed the
corpse, and leaped savagely upon it; and they were proceeding to
cut off the head, when the women screamed, beating their breasts
and faces, and the savage crew desisted. The palace was gutted;
and even Nâila, all wounded and bloody, was stripped of her veil.
Just then the cry was raised, ‘To the Treasury!’ and suddenly all
departed.[490]
As soon as they had left, the palace
gate was barred, and thus for three days Burial of Othmân.
the dead bodies of Othmân, Moghîra, and
the slave, lay in silence within. Then Zobeir ibn Motím, and Hakîm
ibn Hizâm (Khadîja’s nephew), chief men of the Coreish, obtained
leave of Aly to bury the Caliph’s body.[491] In the dusk of evening, the
funeral procession, including Zobeir, Hasan son of Aly, and the
kinsmen of Othmân, wended their way to the burying-ground of
Backî, outside the city. Death had not softened the rebels’ hearts,
and they pelted the bier with stones. Not in the graveyard itself, but
in a field adjoining, the body, with a hurried service, was committed
to the dust. In after years the field was added by Merwân to the main
burying-ground—a spot consecrated by the remains of the heroes of
Ohod, and many names famous in the early days of Islam; and there
the Beni Omeyya long buried their dead around the grave of their
murdered kinsman.[492]
Thus, at the age of eighty-two, died
Othmân, after a reign of twelve years. The His character.
misfortunes amongst which he sank bring
out so sharply the failings of his character that further delineation is
hardly needed. Narrow, weak, and vacillating, he had yet a kindly
nature which might have made him, in less troublous times, a
favourite of the people. Such, indeed, for a season he was at the
beginning of his Caliphate. But afterwards he fell on evil days. The
struggle between the Coreish and the rest of the Arabs was hurrying
on the nation to an internecine war. The only possible safety was for
the class still dominant to have opposed a strong and united front to
their adversaries. By his vacillation, selfishness, and nepotism,
Othmân broke up into embittered factions the aristocracy of Mecca,
and threw this last chance away.
 CHAPTER XXXV.
THE ELECTION OF ALY.

End of A.H. XXXV. June, A.D. 656.

On the Caliph’s death, his kinsfolk, and

such as had taken an active part in his Revulsion of feeling.
defence, retired from the scene. The city
was horror-struck. They had hardly anticipated, and could now with
difficulty realise, the tragical end. Many who had favoured, and some
who had even joined, the rebels, started back, now that the deed
was done. The nearer relatives of the murdered Caliph fled to Mecca
and elsewhere, with vows of vengeance. A citizen of Medîna,
wrapping carefully up the severed fingers of Nâila in the blood-
stained shirt of Othmân—meet symbols of revenge—carried them off
to Damascus and laid them at Muâvia’s feet.
For several days anarchy reigned at the
capital of Islam. There was neither Caliph Aly elected Caliph, 24 Dzul
nor any settled government. The regicides Hijj, 656.
a.h. XXXV. 23 June, a.d.

had the entire mastery of the city. Amongst

them the Egyptians were foremost in those first days of terror; and
public prayers (mark of supreme authority) were conducted in the
Great Mosque by their leader. Of the citizens, few ventured forth. At
last, on the fifth day, the rebels insisted that, before they quitted
Medîna, the citizens should exercise their right, elect a Caliph, and
restore the empire to its normal state. Shrinking, no doubt, from the
seething elements which Othmân’s successor would have at once to
face, Aly at first held back, and offered to swear allegiance to either
Talha or Zobeir. But in the end, pressed by the threats of the
regicides and the entreaties of his friends, he yielded, and so, six
days after the fatal tragedy, he publicly bound himself to rule
‘according to the Book of the Lord,’ and was saluted Caliph. Zobeir
and Talha were themselves the first to take the oath. They asserted
afterwards that they swore unwillingly, driven to do so through fear of
the conspirators. The traditions here are so divergent that it is hardly
possible to say how far this was true, or a mere afterthought.[493]
Talha’s arm had been disabled by the wound he received when
defending Mahomet on the battle-field; unhappy auguries were now
drawn from his withered hand being the first to strike the hand of Aly
in taking the oath of fealty. The mass of the people followed. There
were exceptions; for Aly was lenient, and, from a praise-worthy
delicacy, would not press the immediate adherents of the late Caliph
to swear allegiance.[494] The insurgents, having themselves done
homage to Aly, took their leave and departed to tell the tale at Kûfa,
Bussorah, and Fostât.
No bed of roses was strewn for Aly.
Both at home and abroad rough and He declines to punish the
regicides.
anxious work was before him. To the
standing contention between the Arabs and the Coreish was now
added the cry, which was soon to rend Islam, of vengeance on the
regicides. Further, the red-handed treason enacted at Medîna had
loosened the bonds of society. Constituted authority was set at
naught. Bands of Bedouins, scenting from afar the approach of
anarchy and the chance of plunder, hung about the city. They were
bidden to depart; but encouraged by the servile population, which,
broken loose during the insurrection, still kept aloof from their
masters, they refused.[495] Aly was pressed on many sides, by those
who held him bound by his accession-oath, to vindicate the majesty
of the Divine law, and to punish the wicked men who had imbrued
their hands in the blood of Othmân. Even Talha and Zobeir,
awakening too late to the portentous nature of the crime enacted
before their eyes and hardly against their will, urged this. ‘My
brothers,’ replied Aly, ‘I am not indifferent to what ye say. But I am
helpless. These wild Bedouins and rampant slaves will have their
way. What is this but an outburst of Paganism long suppressed—a
return, for the moment, of “the days of Ignorance,” a work of Satan?
Just now they are beyond my power. Let us wait; and the Lord will
guide us.’ This waiting, hesitating mood was the bane of Aly’s life.
He loved ease; and though sometimes obstinate and self-willed, his
ordinary principle was that things left to themselves would mend.
 The Coreish were anxious and
alarmed. The revolt, under the veil of The Coreish alarmed.
discontent at the ungodly rule of Othmân,
was now (they said) taking a far wider range. The Bedouins were
becoming impatient of the control of the Coreishite aristocracy; and
that which had happened to the Beni Omeyya—now forced to fly
Medîna—might happen at any moment to the whole body of the
Coreish. Yet Aly, though professing to denounce the attack of the
regicides as high treason, took no steps to punish it, but temporised.
A prompt and vigorous pursuit of the traitors would no doubt have
been joined in, heart and soul, by Muâvia and by the whole nobility
of Islam. But Aly preferred to let the vessel drift, and so it was drawn
rapidly into the vortex of rebellion.
The next matter which pressed for
immediate settlement was the Aly seeks to supersede
confirmation, or otherwise the Muâvia in Syria.
supersession, of the various governors of provinces and cities; and
here Aly, turning a deaf ear to his friends, proved himself wayward
and precipitate. When Ibn Abbâs returned from the pilgrimage at
Mecca (to the presidency at which he had been deputed by the late
Caliph), he found that Moghîra had been wisely urging Aly to retain
the governors generally in their posts, till, at the least, the people
throughout the empire had recognised his succession to the throne.
But Aly had flatly refused.[496] Ibn Abbâs now pressed the same
view: ‘At any rate,’ he said, ‘retain Muâvia; there is a special reason
for it; Omar, and not Othmân, placed him there; and all Syria
followeth after him.’ The advice, coming from so near and
distinguished a kinsman of his own, deserved the consideration of
Aly. But he answered sharply, ‘Nay; I shall not confirm him even for a
single day.’ ‘If thou depose him,’ reasoned his friend, ‘the Syrians will
question thine election: and, worse, they may accuse thee of the
blood of Othmân, and, as one man, rise up against thee. Confirm
him in his government, and they care not who is Caliph. When thou
art firmly seated, depose him if thou wilt. It will be easy with thee
then.’ ‘Never,’ answered Aly, ‘he shall have nought but the sword
from me.’ ‘Thou art brave,’ Ibn Abbâs replied, ‘but innocent of the