How can Afg̲h̲āni be described? He has been described variously …from the point of view of religious faith as a Shi’ah or a Sunni and in the sphere of religious thinking and activism as a fundamentalist, revivalist, reformer, modernist or non-conformist. He is described as a Shi’ah since he was born in Asadābād, Iran and as a Sunni because he was born in As‘adābād, Afghanistan. Thus, a false link is projected between religious faith and geography, although he consistently remained involved with both the Shi‘ah Iran and other West Asian Sunni Muslim countries. In fact, as we have seen– known as a Sunni Afghan—he enjoyed great respect among the ‘ulama of Iran and has, as such, played a very significant role in initiating the process of revolutionary political changes in Iranian polity by successfully persuading the ‘ulama of Iran to stop Nāṣiruddīn Shah from selling Iran’s economic interests through granting concessions to France and other European powers. Similarly, despite his known non-traditional ways of understanding and interpreting Islamic beliefs and his critical approach towards the opinions of the medieval authorities, he enjoyed great respect among the Muslim elite everywhere and continues to do so even today. So far as his identifications as a fundamentalist, revivalist, reformer, modernist or non-conformist are concerned, in view of our study, they do not adequately describe his thinking. His definition of Islamic fundamentals, varying emphases on the revival of certain specific elements of Islamic vision and refusal to conform to certain traditional concepts, invite the application of these terms variously or simultaneously. Does this signify any mutually contradictory elements in Afg̲h̲āni’s thought, objectives and strategies? If so, how is it that these ‘contradictory’ positions appear to be sound when viewed independent of each other? Or, is there something wrong with our methodology itself? Let us probe this possibility.

What exactly do we understand by the terms fundamentalist, revivalist, reformer, modernist, non-conformist, etc.? Can a modernist not be a fundamentalist? What are the elements which distinguish a revivalist from a reformer? What a non-conformist does not conform to? Does a belief in the teachings enshrined in the Qur‘ān and the ḥadi_s as constituting the fundamentals of a Muslim’s religious life make a Muslim thinker a non-modernist? In what sense modernism is ‘positive’ and fundamentalism ‘negative’? Can a system exist and function without fundamentals? Unless the answer is negative, no assessment of Muslim thought and behavior would be meaningful. To be sure, no Muslim or, say, Marxist can be discussed as such unless he has full faith in Islamic or Marxist fundamentals. In case a believer in Islamic fundamentals is taken as anti-modern, it would imply that Islam itself is anti-modern and not anti-classical, as in Iqbal’s assessment. Extension of this assumption to the area of philosophy of religion would perforce render all considerations of modernism in the context of religious systems as futile and any believer, whether Muslim or non-Muslim, as non- or anti-modern.

Can we do that? Perhaps not, for the simple reason that we cannot afford to be too certain about the values to judge the validity of fundamentals. Certainty is an illusive objective for human reason to be achieved in any sector of knowledge at a certain point of time. It is un-scientific to do so. It is un-scientific and irrational to accept the scientific and the rational at a specific point of existence as totally certain. We are forced to exist on our contemporary assumptions of certainty.

We are, therefore, unable to do anything else except test the validity of values, through the experience of the past, in the context of contemporary knowledge. That is, the process of value-validity is not static but dynamic. Dynamism consists in validating a value-system on the basis of experience and knowledge accumulated by human mind at a particular point in time.
How about eternity of a value? Are there no eternal values in a system? Is a belief in the eternity of values a negation of dynamism of the process of value-validity? Is not, for instance, truth an eternal value? No doubt, it is; what is not eternal is its definition. It is the definition or, rather, redefinition of an eternal value, which explains the dynamism of this process. Thus, modernism consists in redefinition/re-interpretation of eternal values demanded by the accumulation of past experiences and knowledge, at a particular stage in human development. Modernism itself is a relative term; what is modernism today may be considered as conservatism after a few years.
Fundamentalism does not mean to cling to the fundamentals as defined in the past, but to accept them in their essence. Seen from this angle, ‘reformism’ does not exist in Islam. Islamic fundamentals cannot be re-formed but only re-defined. Revivalism, similarly, does not mean revival of the fundamentals as they were defined in history but as they exist in the Qur‘ān. Revivalism would be negative or static if it stands for the revivalism of Islamic institutions as shaped in history. It is this attempt in the name of Islamic revival which has created insurmountable problems for Islamic modernism. What are to be preserved are the eternal values of Islam as defined in the context of a given situation of experience and knowledge.
Afg̲h̲āni, with his refusal to be described by any of these terms, further confirms the desirability of a correct understanding of terms to be applied on Muslim thinkers, trends and movements. Afg̲h̲āni is neither a pure fundamentalist or a revivalist nor a modernist, since, as discussed above, the basic elements of these terms are not mutually exclusive. It is more appropriate to describe him simply as a modern Muslim intellectual. He was modern since he had experienced his Muslim past in the universal present in terms of contemporary knowledge. He was an intellectual as he knew how to use these two in a dynamic redefinition of the eternal values of Islam.

Afg̲h̲āni’s stature as an intellectual is to be assessed in the context of changing societies of modern era. This era of multidimensional crises ushered in by the consequences of the political and scientific might of the West was not favourable for the shaping of any comprehensive philosophical system addressed to the theological, social and intellectual aspects as, for instance, we find in Shāh Valiullah of India of the 18th century. The crisis became complex due to its novelty. The chief distinguishing factor between the previous crises faced by Muslim societies and the present one was that while the former emerged out of various theological, political and social cross-currents within the Muslim ethos, the latter was a product of external political and cultural forces. Further, the crisis faced by Islamic theology due to the impact of Greek rationalism was not grave and could be absorbed by the built-in philosophical and theological cushions used variously by the Mu‘tazilites and the Ash‘arites. On the other hand, this medieval Muslim intellectual tradition on which the 19th century Muslim mind had to rely, had no safeguards against the onslaught of the European culture powered by rationalism and science.

The new crisis demanded quite a new approach for its analysis to help in the protection of essential values of Islamic culture. However, the process of unfolding of this crisis was too fast to allow time and peace for the Muslim (in fact, the Eastern) peoples even to assess the exact nature of the spiritual, intellectual and material implications of Western culture for Islam and Muslim societies. This explains the partial nature of Muslim responses to Western challenges during the last one hundred years or so. In Afg̲h̲āni we find the first indications of a philosophic awareness of the new crisis and of a dynamic approach to tackle it.
Afg̲h̲āni’s intellectual response was governed mainly by the problems created by the political and intellectual thought of the West and its political forms. He probably did not think and proceed as he would have desired to do; he was forced by the immediate crisis to be selective in the ordering of his priorities. Nevertheless, his philosophical premises scattered in his writings and recorded by his companions and the practical steps which he took, provide us with his conceptual framework for reconstruction of Islamic thought.

The most important feature of this approach is evident in the transfer of emphasis from abstract theory of Islam to Muslim society, as such. It was the material (political, social and economic) decline and stagnation of Muslim peoples which led him to re-examine the philosophical content of those Islamic concepts which governed the cultural aspects of life. It is, thus, no mere accident that Afg̲h̲āni deals more with those Islamic beliefs and concepts which are directly or indirectly related to social realities than with Islamic metaphysics, mysticism or purely philosophical issues. He believed that the political and intellectual stagnation of the 19th century Muslim world was the logical result of the neglect of true Islamic principles during the previous five or six centuries and, therefore, its survival lay in rediscovering the true fundamentals of Islam. The preceding movements of religious reform, namely, the Vahhābiyah and the San~usiyah, had a limited scope. While their call to restore Muslim society to its pristine purity had universal appeal, their political interests were confined to Nejd and al-Maghrib. Afg̲h̲āni inherited from the Vahhābiya the doctrine of purity of faith; but whereas the former considered the basis of pure Islam to be metaphysical, Afg̲h̲āni described it as social. For the Vahhābiya the danger lay in innovation – an internal phenomenon, while for Afg̲h̲āni the main danger emanated from the West and the prejudiced outlook of the Muslims towards modern knowledge. He was fully aware that the religious and political battles against the West could be fought and won only in the arena of knowledge. Unless the Muslims re-established religion on reason and science they would not be able to keep up with the rapid advances of history. The Mu‘tazilites in a way held the same approach; but while for them it was purely a philosophical problem, for Afg̲h̲āni it was an existential one.

The Muslim society as observed by Afg̲h̲āni did not consist merely of the rulers, the ‘ulamā or the rich; it was of the Muslim masses – the down-trodden majority at the mercy of the few rich and the powerful. He found Muslim societies whether in Muslim areas (the Arab, Turkish or Iranian regions) or areas of strong Muslim minorities (like India) persecuted by the rich, the absolute monarchs and Western imperialists and restrained in progress by their distorted image of Islam and intellectual backwardness. Muslim society, therefore, was stagnant due to three factors, namely, absolute dictatorship (istibdād), distorted religious faith and biased view (ta‘aṣṣub) of knowledge. These three, in his opinion, have no place in the Islamic view of life. Quoting the Qur‘ān and citing examples from Muslim history, he condemned all forms of oppression. He exposed the ignorance of ‘ulamā and their failing in their duty of providing guidance to the peoples. Thirdly he brushed aside the traditional division of knowledge into Muslim and non-Muslim categories—- an error which, he held, was responsible for intellectual stagnation of Muslims for the last five hundred years. Such was Af_g~hāni’s diagnosis of Muslim problems and identification of those responsible for their creation.
The question was how to deal with this complex situation. Since the issues were of philosophical, political and social nature with deep inter-linked roots in the historical tradition, no single plan of action could be effective. A man of action himself, Afg̲h̲āni knew it fully well. In his final analysis which he appears to have made around 1884 (when he published al-‘Urvah) he selected following steps in his plan of action:

A – Theoretical
i To offer an interpretation of Islam, through a critical examination of Islamic historical tradition removing all theological impediments in the way of social and intellectual progress.
ii To expose the distortions and misinterpretations in beliefs and practices in medieval Islamic theology and the misguidance of the ‘ulamā of his age.
iii To make the Muslims, chiefly the Muslim youth, aware of the urgent need of acquiring modern knowledge as an essential condition for progress.
B – Operational
iv to start a movement among the Muslims for political modernization, that is, establishment of constitutional governments instead of monarchy and to shape Vaḥdat al Islāmiah. While the former would provide popular governments required for speedy reforms, the latter would help create an atmosphere of religio-political coordination among the Muslim countries for meeting European military threats and for united action for common social and educational reforms.

So far as the theoretical aspect is concerned, Afg̲h̲āni prefaces his interpretation of Islam with a justification for a religious system. Religion, according to him, served chiefly as a system to maintain peace in society and aimed at the achievement of happiness for all individuals. The other institutions used for the same objective are state and morality. State, based on force, can never he relied upon as there is every possibility of its being misused by evil persons. Even a moral system has no absolute values of its own; it is, in fact, a social code of human behavior, changing according to the interests of different classes and cultural traditions of a society. Religion, on the other hand, aims at maintaining social peace through certain beliefs containing everlasting moral values. Afg̲h̲āni identifies the beliefs in God and reward and punishment as basic to all religious systems. The former belief helps man to maintain his spiritual personality and the latter as a moral restraint, preserves social peace. Islam is the best upholder of these eternal values and provides full scope for intellectual and material uplift of the individual in the interests of the whole society. Science, according to Afg̲h̲āni, is not a rival but a component of Islamic spirituality. For social organization, Islam provides a moral value- system based on the beliefs in unity of God and the Day of Judgment. Islamic political system is democratic in spirit having no room for hereditary monarchy or dictatorship. Muslim society has to be governed by law and not by arbitrary human will. As a logical outcome of this interpretation, Islamic legal system has to keep pace with social change and liberate itself from the rigidities of various schools of law which had tied down the Muslims during the past several centuries. Through the dynamic principle of ijtihād, Afg̲h̲āni paves the way for the formulation of laws according to the social needs of every age. What come into conflict with ever changing social values are not the eternal fundamental beliefs of Islam but the legal systems which came into being in response to the needs of society at various stages in the past. Therefore, ijtihād may be resorted to for new legislation wherever required for keeping Muslim society moving. His deep concern over the ever growing pressures of social change is reflected in his views on the need of preparing a new Qur’ānic commentary which, he emphasizes, should be oriented to the new social, political and philosophical problems and written by one who is well-versed in both Islamic and Western sciences.

Such interpretation of religion as a social system was quite new to the 19th century Muslim mind which continued to treat religion as a purely spiritual and rigid legal system. Afg̲h̲āni suggested the study of this issue from a philosophical angle. His belief that without the spirit of philosophy no society can progress is, in fact, a demand for acquiring a mental attitude in which the spirit does not dominate the rest but is complementary to the material part of human life. As such, religion would serve not as an end in itself but as a means to achieve happiness for human beings. Generally, the Muslims did not seem to have a clear idea of the role of knowledge in the evolution of society. It was Afg̲h̲āni who, for the first time, realized that science has emerged as a more relevant source of power and progress. In fact, he appears to believe that science is destined to play a more decisive role in human affairs in future than metaphysics. He points out that the powerful political structure and material prosperity of Europe was based upon its superior scientific knowledge. He, therefore, considered the learning of modern sciences by the Muslims as a prerequisite for revival of early purity of Islam.

The pressures of Western imperialism, especially of the British, had become so intense that no long-term plan for religious reform and intellectual renaissance could be initiated without tackling the political question first. The West was ready to take advantage of the political dissensions among the Muslim rulers. Hence, Afg̲h̲āni advocated the establishment of constitutional governments in Muslim countries and appealed for the unity of Muslim countries under single caliph.

However, there were three chief obstacles in the achievement of Muslim renaissance: (a) foreign political pressures, (b) despotism of Muslim rulers, and (c) the orthodox ‘ulamā who, in order to safeguard their religious prestige and political influence, supported the reactionary policies of the rulers. Afg̲h̲āni found that the factor which would decide the future of the Muslim world was the outcome of the struggle between the enlightened Muslims (mostly under the influence of European sciences and institutions) and the orthodox section of the ‘ulamā, both of whom took the support of religion to put forward their conflicting points of view. Afg̲h̲āni could not subscribe to anyone of these views to the exclusion of the other. The enlightened section of Muslims with all its progressive ideas was not sufficiently influential, while the ‘ulamā who were more powerful, suffered from a prejudiced outlook. Afg̲h̲āni, therefore, struck a balance between the two points of view and at the same time presented his own interpretation of Islam as ‘a functional social system’. He held religion as the spirit and science as the strength of Islamic culture. On the one hand, he acknowledged the importance of the ‘ulamā as a theological assistance against the absolutism of Muslim rulers (as they served in Iran) and, on the other hand, made their opposition to Western thought ineffective by arguing that modern sciences were not against the precepts of Islam. As regards the enlightened Muslims, who served as the backbone of his reformative program, he organized them around his dynamic theme of religious reconstruction on the foundations of modern sciences and, at the same time, restrained them from over-rationalizing religious beliefs, which might minimize the spiritual values of religion.

The monumental task taken by him was the reconstruction of an Islamic theoretical system that could be effective enough to deal with the mighty, knowledge-driven, political, social and economic forces in the West. Afg̲h̲āni succeeded, to a large extent, in the difficult task of redefining knowledge, and not theology, as the real means of making a society strong and progressive. According to this principle, he advocated ijtihād as the legal instrument for keeping pace with the changing social and economic requirements from time to time, democracy as the only right mode of political administration, socialistic economy to safeguard and promote a just society, particularly the poor and the destitute. All this would be possible only when the members of society develop a ‘philosophical spirit’ and and adopt rational approach towards life. For him, all these concepts were quite in line with Islamic teachings. It was this call for demolition of the old traditional structures and the building of new institutions and instruments that made Afg̲h̲āni the enemy of the religious leadership of his time. Muslim despotism, however, proved to be the main obstacle to his movement of change. Afg̲h̲āni remains as the only Muslim thinker of modern period whose concepts are, still, most relevant for putting Muslim societies on the path of cultural recovery.
Still, his thought left a deep impress upon the contemporary and later Muslim intellectuals and religious and political leaders.1 In Persia, the political aspect of his religious thought was taken up by most of the political leaders and the ‘ulamā of his times and was manifested in the national movement culminating in the revolution of 1905-1906.2 Among them the most distinguished were Mirzā Naṣrullah Malik al-Mutakallimīn,3 Shaik̲h̲ Hādi Najmābādi,4 Sayyid Muḥammad t̤abāt̤abā‘i,5 āqā k̲h̲ān Kirmāni,6 and Shaik̲h̲ āḥmad Rooḥi.7 Afg̲h̲āni’s pan-Islamic ideology and anti-West tendencies continued to find expression among the writings of the later literary figures of Persia.8 In Turkey, the Young Turk movement might be said to have followed anti-ḥamidian, pan-Islamic and liberal policies similar to those of Afg̲h̲āni.9 In India Maulana Abul Kalām āzād and the poet-thinker Iqbāl, among others, were deeply influenced by his diagnosis of the degeneration of Muslims as well as by his views on religious reforms.10 In Egypt, where his stay was longer than in any other country, his religious mission was more systematically and effectively carried forward by his distinguished disciple Muḥammad ‘Abduh and the al-Manār party.11 ‘Abdul Raḥmān al-Kavākibi (1849-1903) of Syria was a disciple of Afg̲h̲āni and derived the substance and form of his theory of Arab nationalism from Afg̲h̲āni’s religious and more comprehensive political ideology.12 In Russia, Ismā‘il Bey Gasprinsky (1851-1914), the most outstanding figure in the history of Russian Turks in the 19th century,13 and the Azerbaijan leaders, such as Resul Zadeh, Topchibasheve and Agaeve, were deeply influenced by Afg̲h̲āni.14 However, in the early part of the 20th century, pan-Islamism received a set-back due to the emergence of nationalist movements which, in a way, ran counter to Afg̲h̲āni’s concept of the unity of Muslim peoples. The movements of pan-Turanism and Turkish nationalism produced a parallel reaction among the Arabs. These movements were based on the conception of race, language and culture rather than on religion.

Afg̲h̲āni had succeeded in stirring the religious and political life of the Muslims of his time. He was respected by the people, feared by the Muslim rulers, and hated by the reactionary ‘ulamā. Britain tried to exploit his influence in the settlement of the Egyptian question and the Mahdi uprising in Sudan, but, all the same, he was treated as a dangerous agitator. The ‘ulamā condemned him as the advocate of rationalism. The Muslim rulers, like Sultan ‘Abdul ḥamīd II of Turkey and Nāṣiruddin Shah of Persia, tried to use his influence in order to advance their own political interests and to pacify the growing national awakening in their own countries. But, as soon as they discovered that his ideas of reforms went counter to their despotic authority they disowned him. He was exiled from Persia and Egypt and was put under house-arrest by Sultan ‘Abdul ḥamīd in Turkey.

The failure to move the rulers and the ‘ulamā, who were the accredited leaders of the Muslims, to associate themselves with his movement of religious and political revival, disappointed Afg̲h̲āni. As a result, he turned more and more towards the masses. He exhorted them to rise in revolt against their own corrupt rulers. In the last days of his life he wrote a letter to his colleagues in Persia in which he said:15

“Only on this account am I grieved, that I have not lived to reap what I have sown and that I have not fully attained to that which I desired. The sword of unrighteousness has not suffered me to see the awakening of the peoples of the East and the hand of ignorance has not granted me the opportunity to hear the call of Freedom from the throats of the nations of the Orient. Would that I had sown all the seeds of my ideas in the receptive ground of the people’s thoughts. . . You, who are the ripe fruit of Persia, and who have zealously girded up your skirts for the awakening of the Persian, fear neither imprisonment nor slaughter. Be not frightened by the ferocious acts of the Sultans. Strive with utmost speed, and endeavor with the greatest swiftness. Nature is your friend, and the Creator of Nature your ally. The stream of renovation flows quickly towards the East.”

As correctly assessed by Fazlur Rahman,

“the most salient feature of his spiritual attitude, which he has bequeathed to the Modernist Muslim, is his unbounded humanism. Indeed, there is evidence to the effect that even his appreciation of religion was based upon a humanist élan; for religion, including Islam, according to him served human ends. It, therefore, must be concluded that his emphasis on populism was not just a means to an external end, the strengthening of Muslim governments against a foreign enemy, but was possessed of intrinsic value. Indeed Afg̲h̲āni appears to be the sympathetic advocate of the downtrodden and the deprived”.16

References

B.1 Wilfred Cantwell Smith says: “There is very little in twentieth century Islam not foreshadowed in Afg̲h̲āni.” Islam in Modern History , Princeton, 1957, p. 48
B.2 For his personal influence among the elite and the masses in Persia, Cf. the statement of Ri|dā Kirmāni, TBI, p. 83; E. G. Browne, The Persian Revolution, p. 73. Nāzim al-Islām Kirmāni mentions several ‘ulamā, officials and traders who came under Afg̲h̲āni’s influence and played a vital role in the Persian national movement. TBI, pp. 63-64, 155. See also, Sharh, pp. 58, 83; Malikzadeh, op. cit., pp. 179, 212-14, 258; ḥayāt-i Yaḥyā, p. 98; TBI, p. 155; E.G. Browne, op. cit., p. 415; Ahmad Kisravi, Ta‘rīk̲h̲-i Mashr~utiyat-i Iran , Tehran, 1330, Solar, pp. 10, 12, 14-15, 136, 139
B.3 Malikzadeh, op. cit., p. 191
B.4 E.G. Browne, op. cit., pp. 82, 406; Murta|dā, op. cit., p. 66
B.5 TBI, pp. 49-50
B.6 Ibid., pp. 148-50. E.G. Browne, op. cit., pp. 409-14
B.7 E.G. Browne, op. cit., p. 415; TBI, p. 155
B.8 Cf. Isḥāque, Modern Persian Poetry, Calcutta, 1943, pp. 142ff.
B.9 Afg̲h̲āni has remained as a source of inspiration to certain distinguished figures of Turkey. For instance, Shināsi (1826-1871), the founder of Tanzimat literature, was an intimate friend of Afg̲h̲āni. Cf. Halide Edib, Conflict of East and West in Turkey, 2nd edition, Lahore, 1935, pp. 185-86. Ziyā Gokalp, the theorist of Turkish nationalism, and the nationalist poet Mehmet Amin were also inspired by Afg̲h̲āni’s ideas. Cf. Uriel Heyd, Foundations of Turkish Nationalism, London, 1950, p. 108. See also Kemal H. Karpat, Turkey’s Politics: The Transition to a Multi Party System , Princeton, New Jersey, 1959, p. 30n. 62, 63, 90. It is also reported that Afg̲h̲āni was an associate member of the Bektashi Order of Darvishes, which cooperated with the Young Turks in their anti-Hamidian struggle and were accused by the orthodox ‘ulamā for their religious liberalism. Cf. Duckett Ferriman, Turkey and the Turks, London, 1911, p. 202
B.10 In the beginning of the 20th century Maulānā āzād started a weekly journal al-Hilāl exactly on the pattern of al-‘Urvah al-Vu_sqā. The early issues of this journal published several articles on Afg̲h̲āni’s life and career and his views of religious reforms were highly praised. Iqbal’s works, especially his Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam, and Jāvid Nāmah, vividly exhibit his devotion to Afg̲h̲āni’s religious ideas. For Afg̲h̲āni’s influence on the Indian Muslims, Cf. the collection of articles on Afg̲h̲āni by eminent Muslim scholars of India, Maqām-i Jamāl al-Dīn Afg̲h̲āni, compiled by Sayyid Mubāriz al-Dīn Rif‘at, Karachi, 1948. See also Aziz Ahmed, Studies in Islamic Culture in the Indian Environment, Oxford, 1964, Chap. 4
B.11 Cf. The excellent work on Muḥammad ‘Abduh, Islam and Modernism in Egypt, by C.C. Adams, London, 1933.
B.12 Hazem Zaki Nuseibeh, The Ideas of Arab Nationalism, New York, 1956, pp. 47-48; George Antonius, The Arab Awakening, London 1945, p. 97
B.13 Serge A. Zenkovsky, Pan-Turkism and Islam in Russia, Cambridge 1960, pp. 30ff.
B.14 Ibid., pp. 271-72
B.15 E. G. Browne, op. cit., pp. 28-29
B.16 The Cambridge History of Islam, art., “Revival & Reform in Islam,” ed. P.M. Holt, Ann K. S. Lambton & Bernard Lewis, Vol. 2B, Cambridge, 1970, pp. 62-63.