Western Muslims and the Future of Islam (2004)

In the aftermath of World War II and the Algerian revolt of 1956–1963, large numbers of North African Muslims emigrated to France searching for economic opportunity (a process also at work for different reasons in Germany and Britain). Assimilation proved problematic for many of these immigrants, and many in their host countries were disinclined to accept them. Tariq Ramadan, a prominent Muslim scholar, has written several books that attempt to provide a way to reconcile the traditional, universalist claims of Islam with the skeptical, post-Enlightenment European society. Here, Ramadan sets out the basic issues his work attempts to address.

When I wrote To Be a European Muslim: A Study of the Islamic Sources in Light of the European Context in 1997, many readers were surprised and challenged by the approach to the Islamic textual sources (the Qur’an and the Sunna) that I was proposing, and by the propositions I was trying to articulate with regard to reading our sources. Their questions were usually aimed in the same direction: where would it lead in practice? For I had said that this was only a first step and that more work would have to follow to formulate the vision of the whole and to apply these reflections in practical terms on the ground. These past years have been fed by a constant threefold work of deepening my reflection on the sources, bringing them face to face with the realities on the ground, and analyzing the local dynamics in accordance with meetings and exchanges with Muslim association groups (and consequently a number of partners) in Europe and North America (not forgetting the very Western circumstances of Mauritius, Reunion, or Singapore). This has made it possible for me to take up the work begun five years ago and to synthesize it into a more global and coherent vision of Islamic principles, the available juridical instruments, and the means of employing them. This work makes up the whole of the first part of this present volume. I have not included all the elements of reflection contained in To Be a European Muslim, but I have restricted myself to those that had a direct link with my purpose here: to understand the universality of the message of Islam, and to highlight the means we are given to help us live in our own time, in the West, with respect for ourselves and for others. The approach I propose is anchored in the Islamic tradition and amplified from within it: in this sense it is both deeply classical and radically new. Beginning with the Qur’an and the Sunna and the methodologies set down by the ulama1 throughout the history of the Islamic sciences, I have tried to immerse myself again in reading these sources in the light of our new Western context; even though the methodology adopted is classical, I have not hesitated sometimes to question certain definitions and categorizations and to suggest others. It is especially in my suggestions and my replies that one will doubtless find some new perspectives, which I hope may be useful. My conviction in elaborating on this work is that the movement toward reform, which was once intrinsic to the juridical compass of Islam, can take place effectively only from within, in, and through a rigorous faithfulness to the sources and the norms of reading them. This is the requirement I have laid upon myself.

The second part of my study concentrates on the practical application of these reflections in Western society. Questions as essential as the spiritual life, or education in industrialized, more or less postmodern, more or less secularized societies, are studied with an attempt, wherever possible, to approach the subject from three perspectives: the principles to respect, the reality of the situation, and the reforms that seem to me necessary to face the challenges of life in Europe or North America. I have tried to follow the same stages in each chapter. Following on from spirituality and education, social engagement and political participation, economic resistance, interreligious dialogue, and the cultural equivalent are some of the subjects I have felt needed to be addressed at this precise juncture of our history in the West.

We are currently living through a veritable silent revolution in Muslim communities in the West: more and more young people and intellectuals are actively looking for a way to live in harmony with their faith while participating in the societies that are their societies, whether they like it or not. French, English, German, Canadian, and American Muslims, women as well as men, are constructing a “Muslim personality” that will soon surprise many of their fellow citizens. Far from media attention, going through the risks of a process of maturation that is necessarily slow, they are drawing the shape of European and American Islam: faithful to the principles of Islam, dressed in European and American cultures, and definitively rooted in Western societies. This grassroots movement will soon exert considerable influence over worldwide Islam: in view of globalization and the Westernization of the world, these are the same questions as those already being raised from Morocco to Indonesia.

Globalization contains the paradox that at the same time that it causes the old traditional points of reference to disappear, it reawakens passionate affirmations of identity that often verge on withdrawal and self-exclusion. The Muslim world is not exempt from such phenomena: from Africa to Asia, via America and Europe, this kind of discourse is multiplied. It is about self-protection, self-preservation, and sometimes even self-definition over and against the “Western megamachine,” to use the formulation of Serge Latouche: “Whatever is Western is anti-Islamic” or “Islam has nothing in common with the West.” This bipolar vision is widespread and gives some Muslims a sense of power, might, and legitimacy in Otherness. But not only is this bipolar and simplistic vision a decoy (and the claims that justify it are untruths) but the power that it bestows is a pure illusion: in practice, the Muslims who maintain these theses only isolate themselves, and sometimes, by their excessive emotional, intellectual, and social isolation, even strengthen the logic of the dominant system whose power, by contrast, lies in always appearing open, pluralistic, and rational.

The approach I propose here is the exact opposite of this attitude. Beginning with the message of Islam and its universal principles, I have investigated the tools that can give an impetus, from the inside, to a movement of reform and integration into the new environments. The power and effectiveness of the “principle of integration,” which is the foundation upon which all the juridical instruments for adaptation must depend, lie in the fact that it comes with an entirely opposite perspective; instead of being sensitive, obsessed by self-protection and withdrawal and attempts to integrate oneself by “the little door,” on the margin, or “as a minority” it is, on the contrary, a matter of integrating, making one’s own all that people have produced that is good, just, humane—intellectually, scientifically, politically, economically, culturally, and so on. While our fellow-citizens speak of this “integration” of Muslims “among us,” the question for the Muslims presents itself differently: their universal principles teach them that wherever the law respects their integrity and their freedom of conscience and worship, they are at home, and must consider the attainments of these societies as their own and must involve themselves, with their fellow-citizens, in making it good and better. No withdrawal, no obsession with identity—on the contrary, it is a question of entering into an authentic dialogue, as between equals, with all our fellow-citizens with respect for the identical universality of our respective values, willingly open to mutual enrichment and eventually to becoming true partners in action.

I know these ideas are frightening and that they appear new and “offensive,” to use the expression of a questioner who heard them at one of my lectures in the United Kingdom. Let me say that my reading of the scriptural sources and the study of our Western environment have led me to lay down two fundamental theses that involve the determined rejection of certain intellectual positions. First, for me it is not a question of relativizing the universal principles of Islam in order to give the impression that we are integrating ourselves into the rational order. In my view, the issue is to find out how the Islamic universal accepts and respects pluralism and the belief of the Other: it is one thing to relativize what I believe and another to respect fully the conventions of the Other. The postmodernist spirit would lead us unconsciously to confuse the second proposition with the first. I refuse: it is in the very name of the universality of my principle that my conscience is summoned to respect diversity and the relative, and that is why, even in the West (especially in the West), we have not to think of our presence in terms of “minority.” What seems to be a given in our thinking: “the Muslim minority,” “the law of minorities” (fiqh al-aqalliyyat), must, I believe, be rethought. We shall do a little of this in the following pages. Second, I defend fiercely the idea that Western Muslims must be intellectually, politically, and financially independent. Of course, this does not imply that exchanges and discussions with Muslim countries should cease—rather the contrary. We have more need than ever to maintain spaces for meeting and debate (especially since there are not yet any ulama we can refer to who were born and formed in the West). In this period of transition, links between Muslims of West and East are essential. What I mean exactly by the idea of “independence” is that Western citizens of the Muslim faith must think for themselves, develop theses appropriate to their situation, and put forward new and concrete ideas. They must refuse to remain dependent, either on the intellectual level, or more damagingly, on the political or financial levels. These types of dependences are the worst because they prevent the acquisition of responsibility and the liberation of heart and minds. In the same way, as a citizen, I refuse to support the colonialist reaction found among certain governments and commentators that consists of wanting to keep Muslims in these old (or other new) dependences and in wanting to “speak for them,” as we reject the insidious new “paternalism” of some who “help” “young” Muslims eternally destined in their spirits never to become adults.

These two positions of principle are ultimately nothing but the reflection of the dynamics that are slowly coming into place in the West. I have consciously decided not to deal specifically with the problems of political security faced by European and American states, or with Islamophobia or social discrimination—not because I think these problems are secondary but because my thinking is based at a higher level. It is by acquiring the conviction that they can be faithful to their principles while being totally involved in the life of their society that Muslims will find the means to confront these difficulties and act to resolve them. It is an established and unacceptable fact that the governments of the United States (particularly after the outrages of 11 September 2001) and Europe maintain relations that are sometimes disrespectful of and even clearly discriminatory against citizens and residents of their countries who are of Muslim faith. It is no less true that they apply a security policy including constant surveillance: distrust is maintained, and the image of the “Muslim” often remains suspect. The general picture conceived by the Western population in general is so negative that one could call it Islamophobia, and this is a fact that many Muslims have lived with on a daily basis. One could extend the list of difficulties, complaints, and criticism at will. My response to all these phenomena is to insist to Muslims that they stay in the higher reaches, in awareness of their principles, values, and responsibilities. By developing a global vision of their points of reference and their objectives, by studying their situation and being reconciled with themselves, they have the responsibility to become engaged in all the areas we shall study in this book. Muslims will get what they deserve: if, as watchful and participating citizens, they study the machinery of their society, demand their rights to equality with others, struggle against all kinds of discrimination and injustice, establish real partnerships beyond their own community and what concerns themselves alone, it will be an achievement that will make political security measures, discrimination, Islamophobic behavior, and so on drift away downstream. In the end, the ball is in their court . . . unless they are determined to remain forever on the margins.

This book is only one step toward the building of the Muslim personality in the West and doubtless in the modern era, too. It will not be the last. Other works, in sha Allah,2 must continue to trace the path back to the beginning. I have humbly tried to draw the theoretical and practical outlines of a vision for the future, full on. I want to engage with this in practice, and already, across all the countries of the West, this vision is being accomplished. The road is still long, but indwelt by this humble “need of Him,” one must not be afraid or apologize for needing time.

From Tariq Ramadan, “Introduction: In Practice,” Western Muslims and the Future of Islam (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004), pp. 3-7. Copyright (c) 2004 by Oxford University Press, Inc. By permission of Oxford University Press, Inc.