At the outset, it is to be stated that religious reform has no place in Islam unless it is defined as reestablishment of supremacy of the fundamental beliefs of Islam. This implies, firstly, identification of such beliefs and, second, deletion of those acquired beliefs and practices which do not agree with the former. Between the two, identification of the fundamentals of Islam, through the process of reinterpretation, has always been the subject of Muslim theologians, jurists, philosophers and the mystics. All the sects, schools of law and philosophy and the Sufi orders are, in a way, the product of such attempts at Islamic reinterpretations. Subsequent to formation of sects and schools of thought during the medieval period, any new attempt of reinterpretation by a thinker is expected to be characterized in relation to the sect or school to which he belonged. However, attempting to reinterpret Islam while belonging to any particular sect or school seems to be self-defeating, since the latter assumes prior acceptance of a certain set of beliefs as essential and, therefore, leaves the former superfluous. Thus, Islamic reinterpretation can be meaningful only when it is independent, but not necessarily exclusive of traditional belief-systems.

Afg̲h̲āni represents such a meaningful attempt of Islamic reinterpretation. His own religious faith cannot be defined in terms of affiliation to any specific sect or school. The conflicting claims by his biographers and commentators regarding his birth-place being in the Shi‘ite Iran or the Sunnite Afghanistan neither intend to prove nor necessarily lead to the conclusion that he was a Shi‘ah or a Sunni Muslim.1 He himself has not made any statement in this regard. His closest disciple, Muḥammad ‘Abduh, describes him as the follower of the Hanafite school,2 and W.S. Blunt, recalling a conversation with him, states that his family was Arabian and had always preserved the tradition of Arabic language which Afg̲h̲āni spoke with perfect fluency.3
This much is certain that he had studied the traditional Islamic sciences as well as works on Islamic philosophy and Sufism covering areas bordering upon what is described as heretical literature. He was interested, on the one hand,, in Muslim rationalists like Ibn Sīnā (on whom he delivered lectures in Egypt) and, on the other, in the Shaik̲h̲i school of late 18th century, a philosophical mystical off-shoot of the Twelver Shi‘ism, considered to be heretical.4 His mind was open to all sources of knowledge without any prejudices which take a strong hold on the mind of a reformer intending to study Islamic theology in order to use it for achieving concrete results. It is amply evident that he embarked on his academic career not merely as a student of Islamic theology but more as a thinker-reformer, critically examining every school of thought in the context of contemporary situation and knowledge. However, according to his own admission, his search proved futile and ultimately he returned to the Prophet and his Companions.

“I saw that this world was only an unreal mirage and appearance. Its power was precarious and its sufferings unlimited, hiding a venom in every delight, an anger in every benefit. Thus I was inevitably led to remove myself from these tumults and to break all my ties of attachment. And thanks to God and all those who were near Him, I was saved from the world of shadows and penetrated the universe of devotion, resting on the sweetness of the cradle of lights. Today I have chosen for company the Prophet and his Companions.”5

Whatever his religious affiliations might have been, he himself avoided to be associated with any particular school and preferred to be called simply a Muslim, following different schools on different issues.6 This doctrinal freedom may be compared, to a certain extent, with the attitude of the Sufis towards matters concerning religion. In fact, Afg̲h̲āni has been described as somewhat inclined towards Sufism.7 Yet, apart from this eclectic outlook, Afg̲h̲āni’s life reflects hardly any of those traits which are traditionally associated with the Sufis, such as asceticism (ruhbānīyat), or contentment (qinā‘at) or self-mortification (riyāz̤at). Indeed, he was critical of the practices of the Sufis and ascribed the fast spreading inertia among the Muslims to their ascetic teachings.8 He accused the Sufis of his day of neglecting the true tradition of Sufism initiated by such figures as Bāyazīd, Junaid and ḥasan of Baṣrah, whose piety could not be questioned.9 Against the prevalent view that one should be content merely with the minimum necessities of life, he gave preference to the idea that all good and desirable things belong to man and should be coveted by him.10 He pointed out that according to the Qur‘ān, the Messenger’s Traditions and the views of the early jurists, religious progress was dependent upon the temporal uplift of the Muslims. Spirituality was no doubt desirable but it could not progress without matter.11 A nation without political and material strength could not protect its religious character and traditions.12 Afg̲h̲āni’s worldly outlook is more vividly expressed in his remark:

“The world is a game of chess; the loser loses and the winner wins.”13

This approach of Afg̲h̲āni stemmed from his deep faith in rationalism. All available sources show that his education was not confined to religious sciences only. Together with the study of Muslim sciences, he had mastered philosophy, physics, meta-physics, mathematics, astronomy, medicine, anatomy, etc. Besides, he seems to have been familiar with European sciences and their methods,14 though apparently he did not have a deep understanding of these. He had studied Greek philosophy through Arabic translations.15 He stands conspicuous among the ‘ulamā of his time for his unprejudiced understanding of the other.16 He firmly believed in the evolutionary process of development of human knowledge. He admitted that modern sciences were far ahead of those known to early Muslim scholars.17 Without denying the necessity of studying early doctors, Afg̲h̲āni warned against developing a prejudice towards modern sciences.

Citing al-g̲h̲azālī in support of his view, he refuted the idea prevalent among the Muslims that modern sciences were harmful to Islam as a religion.18 He held that Islam was not against scientific truths. In case there appeared any incompatibility between the two it was essential to interpret religious principles in order to remove the contradiction.19 Rashīd Riz̤ā states: “His method of reading the ancient Arabic works was very different form that of al-Azhar. He would often explain the meaning of a point under discussion until it became clear to the understanding, then he would read the statement of the book and apply it to the point in question; if it was applicable, well; if not, he pointed out what was lacking in it. Or he would read the statement of the book and examine its arguments, and either establish it or disprove it and establish a different conclusion. In this way he would proceed until he had given his own decision regarding matters discussed and was not satisfied merely with an understanding of the book and acceptance of the opinions of the writer.”20 Following this pattern, Afg̲h̲āni studied the early scholars of Islam. His students were so much inspired by his boldness that his critical treatment of the commentaries, even those of Ab~u ḥanīfah, were accepted by them without protest.21

Dogma and philosophy—age-old rivals in the history of Muslim thought—seemed to co-exist in Afg̲h̲āni’s mind. He regarded philosophy as the most comprehensive of all sciences and, therefore, pre-eminently essential for building up the character of a nation.22 To make religion an effective means of moral reform, he attempted to place it on the stable foundations of philosophy.

Dīn

Afg̲h̲āni defines religion as a system of principles constituted by God and preached and taught by man. It reached human mind through the agency of Prophets, who are the recipients of revelation (va|ḥī), while others learn its principles by acquisition and education.23 Describing man’s mind as a clean slate during the early part of his life, he states that the first impression which it receives is that of religion. All other aptitudes and habits acquired by him in his later years are influenced by religion.24

The nature of this primary influence, asserted by Afg̲h̲āni, is ethical. Even if a man forsakes his religion he cannot possibly abandon the moral qualities and dispositions which religion has already created in him.25 Afg̲h̲āni stresses the social aspect of religion. He says that the criterion for judging moral and social values is the extent to which they help in creating a balanced society and claims that religion serves as a basis for all such values.26

Afg̲h̲āni studies man primarily as a psychic being governed by instincts, desires and ambitions. Man, naturally, aims at the satisfaction of instincts, but, according to him, every individual is not entitled to this freedom in view of the fact that conflicts may arise in society leading to its disintegration if man is left to pursue his desires for his own benefit. It is, therefore, necessary to find out suitable ways and means to keep human desires and ambitions within reasonable limits.

Afg̲h̲āni thinks that there are four possible ways through which this object could be achieved: force, moral discipline, state authority, and religious faith. As discussed separately,27 he holds that the first three methods are ineffective, since force creates chaos, moral values are only relative, and state, in most cases is controlled by undesirable elements. It is only religious faith that can fulfill the function of controlling human actions for social good. He emphasizes that belief in God and faith in reward and punishment can control human desires, safeguard human rights, maintain balance in society and serve as a basis for social and cultural attainments. Only a firm conviction in these beliefs makes a man act virtuously and restrains him from vices. A man without religious faith would not be attracted towards such qualities as cooperation, sympathy, and understanding which are essential for the proper functioning of society.28 Thus, Afg̲h̲āni ascribes to religion a moral code which aims, chiefly, at social good.

Since early times, Afg̲h̲āni points out, man has acquired three beliefs and an equal number of traits on account of religion.29 The beliefs are: that he is the noblest of all creatures, that his people are superior to other peoples and that he has been created to acquire excellences of a suitable nature which could elevate him to a higher and nobler world. Likewise the three traits are ḥayā (modesty), amānat (trust) and ṣadāqat (sincerity). These beliefs and traits endowed by religion demand that a person should attain higher degrees of excellence in the field of social relations and cultural achievements.

Islam

It will be seen from the foregoing account that Afg̲h̲āni considers religion as an effective medium for the reform of individual conduct and the establishment of a balanced society. In his opinion Islam possesses all the necessary qualities to perform this function. It does not recognize any union based upon tribe, colour or race. The only unifying link among the Muslims is that of uk̲h̲uvvah (brotherhood).30 Afg̲h̲āni states that Islam not only calls men towards truth and raises them spiritually, but it also explains the principles concerning social relations and individual rights.31 Islamic teachings are not confined to matters related to life after death, they also pay full attention to worldly existence. It is for this reason that the Shari‘ah provides for sa‘ādat al-dārain (happiness of the two worlds.)32 Afg̲h̲āni lays down certain conditions for the moral, social and cultural uplift of a people and states that these conditions are fully satisfied by Islam. Firstly, people’s minds should be purified of all false beliefs and superstitions; second, human souls should attain high standards of nobility; third, the articles of faith should be based upon strong rational grounds, superstition should be avoided and taqlīd (blind following of one’s ancestors) should not be the sole criterion of one’s actions; fourth, among every people there should be two groups, one to educate their fellowmen and the other to propagate justice and moderation and to explain the benefits of good conduct and the harms of wrong deeds.33

According to Afghāni, tavḥīd (belief in the unity of God) enjoined by Islam dispels all false notions produced by the practice of worshipping several deities. It also discards superstitions such as the ideas of incarnation and suffering of the deity, which are found in many of the existing religions like Christianity, Brahmanism and Zoroastrianism.34 These superstitions, in his view, stand between man and reality, paralyze intellect, produce all kinds of moral weaknesses like fear and cowardice, and prevent man from achieving excellence and happiness.35 Afg̲h̲āni points out that man should have confidence in his capacity and should strive to attain the highest level of nobility except prophet-hood which God confers upon whomsoever He wills. Such confidence would inspire men to compete among themselves in performing noble deeds and achieving perfection. Without such faith in himself man would feel inferior to others, intellectually and morally. Islam has provided full scope to all human beings, without any discrimination, for achieving nobility and happiness. Not bound by national and sectarian considerations, Islam regards spiritual and mental perfection as the only standard of nobility and superiority. On the other hand, religions like Brahmanism base nobility on the principle of caste – a concept which, in Afg̲h̲āni’s view, obstructed the progress of its followers in scientific, cultural and industrial fields. Again, according to the Old Testament, only the Jews were noble. This superiority was later assumed by the Christian priests who became the sole repositories of nobility. It was only after the weakening of the belief in the superiority of Christian priesthood that European civilization really began to progress. In this respect, Afg̲h̲āni describes Martin Luther King as following the example of Muslims.36 Quoting Guizot’s History of Civilization in Modern Europe,37 he argues that the secret of Europe’s progress was the appearance of a religious group (i.e. the Protestants) that claimed for itself the right of rational investigation into the Christian beliefs, while the priests insisted that subscribing to authority was the essential basis of religion.38 It was Luther who led Europe from the state of barbarism to that of civilization. Due to this religious movement, the Europeans (Christians) revolted against the Church. Afg̲h̲āni believes that the theological rivalry between Catholicism and Protestantism led to a struggle for progress which produced modern civilization.39 In contrast to other religions, Islam condemns superstition, rejects taqlīd and allows religious beliefs to be examined by reason. It declares that reason is the key to happiness and wrong actions are the outcome of irrational thinking. Other religions lack the quality of subjecting dogma to rational investigation.

For instance, the doctrine of Trinity as found in Christianity cannot stand rational scrutiny. The dogmas of Brahmanism are also irrational. Afg̲h̲āni further states that there should be an authority to ‘command the good and forbid the evil’ (amr bi‘l-ma‘r~uf va nahi ‘an al-munkar) and that among all religions only Islam provides such an authority.40 Nevertheless, Afg̲h̲āni finds certain common elements in Islam, Christianity and Judaism which have the same origin and objectives complementing each other. Whatever differences appear to exist they are among their leaders and not in their sacred books.41 In his opinion the perfect religion would consist of the basic truth in these three faiths.42 It is true that the Christian concept of Trinity goes against the Judaic and Islamic monotheism. In order to remove such external contradictions, he suggests the method of tā‘vīl. He holds that sometimes the inner meaning of Qur‘ānic verse is different from the external meaning – a distinction which is known by the Sufis. All the three religions are one, at least on the fundamental concept of monotheism (tavhīd) and action for the good of man (k̲h̲air al-insān).43

The Qur‘ān

Afg̲h̲āni holds that the Qur‘ān was revealed to the Prophet for the guidance of humanity. It is the Book of Allah, revealed in the simple and easy language spoken by the Arabs. It is unaltered and will remain so for ever to guide the peoples.44 He regards the Qur‘ān as representing the highest form of human culture and the true path towards happiness. This holy code is the culmination of the best teachings of all true religions and provides a categorical proof that Islam is the final religion.45 Afg̲h̲āni analyses the contents of the Qur‘ān in the following manner:

The Qur‘ān contains foremost the belief in the Unity of God. Further, it enjoins obedience to the prophets who are the custodians of wisdom. Ignorance and superstitions are condemned and knowledge and wisdom are highly praised. In some verses, the harms of sinful actions and the benefits of virtuous conduct have been explained. Citing the examples of the preceding communities, the rewards of righteousness and moderation have been emphasized as well as the punishments of sinful life. In addition, the Qur‘ān has elaborated the basic principles governing mundane life leading to absolute happiness (sa‘ādat-i mut̤laqah), and the sufferings brought about by tyranny which is the result of barbarism. It disapproves asceticism and states that whatever is created on earth is for man. All the pleasures of life are the gift of God which should be enjoyed with justice and moderation. World domination is promised to those who have attained perfection rationally and spiritually. As a whole, the Qur‘ān through its ordinances sows the seeds of wisdom in human life.46 When Afg̲h̲āni was asked by Mirzā Lut̤fullāh to say something for his guidance in material and spiritual life, he advised, “Read the Qur‘ān and act upon its commands.”47

Afg̲h̲āni expresses sorrow at the lack of interest shown by the Muslims in the Qur‘ān, which did not receive even as much attention as the verses of Sa‘dī and ḥāfi|z.48 He points out that it was the teachings of the Qur‘ān which revolutionized the life of the Arabs. The Arabs, before Islam, were far removed from a civilized way of life; they were engulfed in ignorance and barbarism, and except poetry- that too full of fanciful thoughts- they had no literature or sciences whatsoever. The influence of the Qur‘ān manifested itself in the complete transformation of Arab life from ignorance to wisdom and from barbarism to civilization. The Arabs began to realize that their needs could be fulfilled only by attaining social, rational and spiritual perfection. It was due to Qur‘ānic teachings that the Muslims developed a taste and love for knowledge. To satisfy their thirst for knowledge they did not hesitate to become disciples even of heretics like the Christians, Jews and Zoroastrians, and translated their works from Persian, Syriac and Greek into theArabic language.49

Thus, Afg̲h̲āni emphasizes that aspect of Qur‘ānic teachings which deals, mainly, with the intellectual and cultural uplift of human life. In his writings he quotes particularly those verses which urge upon the Muslim people to adopt a rational attitude towards life, acquire knowledge, and consolidate their social and political positions.

Tafsīr

Afg̲h̲āni’s ideas on tafsīr place him among those later day reformers who, conscious of the changed conditions, felt the need for a fresh interpretation of Qur‘ān’s teachings. According to him, the exegeses written by the early scholars dealt mainly with the literary or philosophical interpretations of Qur‘ānic verses. For instance, the tafsīr of al-t̤abri (9th century A.D.) is mainly a source of material for traditional exegeses, al-Zamak̲h̲shari’s al-Kashshāf (11th century), having Mu‘tazilite bias, was devoted specially to the lexicographical aspect of the Qur‘ān, al-Rāzī’s al-Tafsīr al-Kabīr (12th century) is chiefly an exposition of his own philosophical views and al-Bai|dāvi’s Anvār al-Tanzīl va Asrār al-Ta‘vīl (13th century) follows, in a comprehensive way, the methods of his predecessors.

Afg̲h̲āni held that the existing tafsīr literature was not of much help to the Muslims in view of the changed social and cultural contexts. He suggests that there is need for a tafsīr written with a rational and literary approach taking into account, at the same time, Islamic polity, principles of sociology and anthropology and the means through which happiness of both the worlds could be achieved.50 In the context of Western values of socio-political reforms, he says that “the true spirit of the Koran is in perfect accordance with modern liberties. Disorders and fanaticism have come from additional interpretations and ignorant commentaries. Now the progress of time has shown the evil effects of past mistakes and, therefore, a learned Musalmān, well acquainted with the liberal principles of Europe, can easily convey them to his people with the authority of the Koran, without difficulties which surrounded Luther.”51 There is no difference of opinion among the Sunnis and the Shi‘ahs on this account.52 Afg̲h̲āni draws attention to the Qur‘ān’s emphasis on the need of rational understanding of some of the problems of life. This explains why the pre-Islamic uncultured Arabs, after the advent of the Qur‘ān, came to dominate the world of politics as well as of science.53

His views on the need for the preparation of a fresh commentary are more vividly expressed in his criticism of the Tafsīr al-Qur‘ān written by Syed Aḥmad k̲h̲ān of India.54 He suggests that a fresh tafsīr should be prepared after an exhaustive study of all the tafsīrs written earlier by the Traditionists (muḥaddi_sīn), jurists, scholasticians (mutakallimīn), philosophers, mystics, men of letters, logicians and even heretics like Ibn Rāwandi. The author of such a commentary must be well-versed in both Eastern and Western sciences. This commentary should contain rational arguments proving the need of religion for humanity. It should deal with influences of religion upon human society and people’s minds as well as their points of differences. It should also give a new interpretation to the Divine polity and Qur‘ānic morality which unified the Arabs in the midst of barbarism and disintegration, purified their thoughts and minds and elevated them among the nations of the world. All such matters dealing with the manners of life, good conduct and principles which aim at maintaining a balance in the social and cultural life should be discussed fully.55

Afg̲h̲āni is not prepared to extend the scope of interpretation of the teachings of the Qur’ān to all fields of human activities. He draws a line between matters relating to the intellectual pursuits of man, on the one hand, and the moral and social reforms, on the other; the latter being the mission of a prophet. He criticizes the prevalent trend among the ‘ulamā of attempting to prove that all modern scientific theories and inventions have been mentioned in the Qur‘ān. He regrets that the real message of the Qur‘ān is lost amidst a host of misinterpretations. So far as the scientific discoveries are concerned, the Qur‘ān cannot deny them. Neither one should expect to find references to modern scientific inventions in the Qur‘ān, like railways or electricity. Had there been any such references, the people of that period would have considered them as lies. If there appears to exist any contradiction between the Qur‘ān and scientific discoveries and concepts it has to be removed by recourse to ta‘vīl.56 The Qur‘ān, in a way, contains indications of later scientific discoveries; for instance, Solomon’s use of winds to carry his commands and of lightening to take his message, anticipate modern inventions like airplanes and telegraph.57 Similarly, there are certain subtle references in the Qur‘ān to roundness of earth, its rotation on its own axis and around the sun and the sun and earth having been one in distant past.58 On the other hand, there are clear and specific norms and values underlying social and political organization like consultative government (uṣ~ul al-ḥuk~umat al-sh~uravīyah), duties of rulers and for discussing problems with the peoples. For instance, the Surah al-Naml (the Ant) mentions Queen Sheba consulting people’s assembly while confronting King Solomon and the people promising to fight if she declares war against Soloman.59 The Qur‘ān, again, gives instructions regarding economic life dealing with issues like taxation, wealth, etc., which can be useful for modern societies.60 Afg̲h̲āni also criticizes rationalists who go to the extent of denying the existence of such phenomena as angels, jinn, heaven and hell and treat them only as symbols for something else.61 He prefers to accept such beings in their literal sense.

‘Aqīdah (Belief)

The subject of religious belief has received considerable attention of Afg̲h̲āni. He holds that beliefs which get engraved in human hearts have great influence in determining mans’ actions, which in their turn produce other beliefs.62 The close relationship between belief and action makes it necessary to have good beliefs so that good actions may be produced. The brotherhood and unity of Muslims derive their strength from the beliefs held commonly by them.63 In order to determine the soundness of beliefs, they should be examined rationally, but this does not exclude other ways of judgment. Afg̲h̲āni observes that the test of beliefs is their capacity to help in material progress. He holds that there is no harm in having beliefs, whether rational or irrational, as long as they do not directly come into conflict with social progress. In fact, no religion has ever enjoined beliefs which prevent material prosperity.64 In support of his contention he refers to the accounts of the Hindus, Egyptians, Chaldeans, Greeks, Persians, Christians and the Arabs and points out that all these nations reached the peak of cultural and scientific progress notwithstanding their faith in numerous deities and most irrational notions.65

An interesting theory is offered by Afg̲h̲āni with regard to the philosophical justification of interpretation of religious beliefs in relation to cultural progress of a nation. In his hard-hitting criticism of the tafsīr of Syed Ahmad Khan.66 He wonders why Sir Syed, who claimed that the his purpose of writing the tafsīr was reformation of Muslims, should have attempted to eradicate Muslim beliefs at a time when all other religions had started a campaign of degrading Islam. “Does he not understand that if the Muslims with their weakness and chaotic social conditions cease believing in miracles of the fire (of hell) and regard the Prophet as (merely a leader like) Gladstone, they would certainly detach themselves from (their) weak and dominated group and join with the strong dominating group (of the ruling Christian community), since in the prevailing conditions there is no restraining factor and no fear (from doing so). Demands for change of religion, looked at from another angle, are very much present since everyone is always inclined to adopt the appearance and way of life of the dominating (group).” Further, discussing the relationship between religious beliefs and cultural progress, Afg̲h̲āni states that Syed Ahmad Khan appears to hold that such beliefs are mainly responsible for the decay of the Muslims and if these are eradicated they would regain their past glory and honor. “I pondered (over this view) and said to myself that the Jews by the grace of these very beliefs liberated themselves from the servitude of the Pharaohs and attained power and culture. The Arabs, by virtue of the same (beliefs) rose from the land of Arabia and flourished in the world in power, culture, knowledge, arts, crafts, trade and commerce. The Europeans recognized these believing Arabs as their teachers. The Hindus during the era of their progress in the laws of culture, sciences and various branches of arts, had belief in thousands of avatārs, ghosts, deities, demons and Hanuman. The Egyptians while believing in deities, cows and cats, laid the foundations of a great culture, sciences and arts and became the teachers of the Greeks. The Chaldeans while worshipping the stars were establishing observatories, making astronomical instruments, building huge palaces and writing books on crafts. The Phoenicians, during the period when they engaged themselves in land and sea trade, contributed to arts and conquered the British, Spanish and Greek countries, used to offer their children as sacrifice to their gods.” Afg̲h̲āni points out that the Greeks in days when they were producing great philosophers and intellectuals, believed in all kinds of gods and superstitions. Likewise, the later Christians while believing in Trinity, Confession, Cross, etc., strengthened their empire, entered into the field of sciences and arts and reached the peaks of culture, and, today, they are the torchbearers in these spheres. His main thesis is that “it is not the religious beliefs, whether right or wrong, which are opposed to cultural and material progress, but those beliefs which prohibit learning of sciences, earning one’s livelihood and the ways of culture. I do not believe that there is any religion in the world which opposes these things. I would rather say that it is non–believing which inevitably leads to disorder and distortion in culture as in the case of the Nihilists.” He points out that had “non-believing” been the cause of the progress of nations, then the Arabs should have achieved success in culture during the days of Jāhilīyah. The Arabs remained in the state of barbarism because they believed in the way of atheism (t̤ariqah-yi dahriyah). Afg̲h̲āni concludes that by eradication of Muslims’ beliefs Syed Aḥmad k̲h̲ān aimed at serving others and attempting to follow others’ approach/ideology. It may be noticed here that Afg̲h̲āni makes a distinction between the rational and the cultural values of religious beliefs. The beliefs may be retained with all their irrational elements (if there are any) so long as they do not obstruct cultural advancement. They are, however, liable to rational examination when they tend to prevent material progress. Afghani’s thesis contains a new definition of religion according to which all beliefs in religions valid and can be followed unless and until thay oppose the good of human societies. This may not be accepted by the followers of religions, today as it implies reducing religion to a changing social organization according to demands of its goodness or development at a particular point of time while ignoring metaphysics of religion—that is, the feature of the eternity value of religious beliefs. It appears as not less than an attempt at materialization of the spiritual or, may be, spiritualization of the material.

Bid‘a

Bid‘a means some view or action which has not been held or practiced by the Messenger and which is not in accordance with the basic principles of the faith. This innovation or novelty does not actually reach the point of unbelief (kufr). However, since it lacks the sanctity of the Qur‘ān or the ḥadīs̲, Muslim theologians have regarded bid‘a as damaging to purity of Islamic beliefs.

With the expansion of Islam in different lands and among peoples having different cultural backgrounds, such innovations have crept into Islamic concepts and rituals. Afg̲h̲āni often complains that Muslims had accepted innovations and all kinds of superstitious practices in social life which were most condemnable.67 He does not see bid‘a as a revolt against Sunnah, but rather as a misapprehension (ishtibāh) of sound beliefs. He gives two reasons for which a true belief is transformed into bid‘a: firstly, when a principle or belief relating to human good and perfection is propounded, those who are newly converted to Islam might fail to grasp the true spirit of this principle and interpret it in a way not in conformity with the Shari‘ah; second, such converts might already be in possession of some false notions which might be confused with newly acquired doctrines of Islam, thus producing an altered or altogether a new belief. In both the cases the true belief is distorted and takes a shape quite different to what it originally was.

Due to this confusion one distorted belief goes on to create other beliefs equally false. Throughout this process the believer has no idea how the confusion takes place and how beliefs can be purified. Consequently, the people having superficial knowledge ascribe the harmful effects to the original doctrines whereas they are, in fact, the outcome of distortions.
In most cases this deviation from faith and submission to innovations serve as a basis for corrupting people’s characters and their actions. The ignorant observers condemn Islam and its true beliefs in the name of such innovations and cite the examples of those persons who believe in innovations rather than in true doctrines.68

Ijtihād

As referred to above,69Afg̲h̲āni was not prepared to be bound by the decisions and opinions of the early ‘ulamā and jurists (a practice called taqlīd). This attitude is significant since it was a revolt against the most revered authority of the early masters of theology, whose words had acquired almost the same sanctity for the Muslims as the commands of the Qur‘ān.

Afg̲h̲āni declined to regard the laws of Islam constituted by early jurists as unchangeable. He endeavored to convince the Muslims that “the law of Islam was no dead hand but a system fitted for the changing human needs of every age, and so itself susceptible of change.”70 He taught that Sunnite Islam was capable of adapting itself to all the highest cravings of the human soul and the needs of modern life.71 He emphasized that Islamic system should change according to the demands and requirements of every age so that it might be in harmony with the existing conditions; otherwise, there is a danger of its extinction.72

Now, how would it be possible to do away with the practice of taqlīd, and pave the way for the formulation of principles which should, on the one hand, conform to the Qur‘ānic text and, on the other, meet the demands of the day? Afg̲h̲āni had a solution. He started by differentiating between the uṣ~ul (roots) and the fur~u‘ (branches) of the laws. He believed firmly in the former and allowed full freedom for reason to introduce modifications in the latter.73 As far as the fundamental principles were concerned he admitted their authority. However, the opinions of early teachers were not to be followed necessarily for two reasons. First, such opinions were formed according to the intellectual capacity and knowledge of those ‘ulamā and, secondly, they were formulated in response to the problems of their own age. However, since then, knowledge had advanced considerably and the existing problems were altogether different from those of the past. Hence, reliance upon the opinions held by the predecessors should be given up.74

Discussing the controversial issue of ijtihād, Afg̲h̲āni remarks: “The miseries of Islam are due to the despotic Muslim rulers and the ‘ulamā who interpreted Islam to suit their own purposes …. Instead of adapting faith to reason and logic they wish that reason and logic should be adapted to faith as conceived by them…. They should realize that unless they clothe religion in knowledge they would not be included among civilized and educated peoples.” 75

Afg̲h̲āni had contempt for taqlīd and called for exercising the right of independent judgment. “What does it mean when it is said that the door of ijtihād has been closed? By which Qur’ānic verse has it been declared so? Which teacher (imām) has held that it is not correct to employ ijtihād, take guidance from the Qur’ān and the true Traditions (of the Messenger) and formulate principles in accordance with the current knowledge and the requirements of the age?76 He pointed out that the early ‘ulamā themselves had exercised the right of independent judgement. But it would be wrong to presume that they had exhausted all the secrets of the Qur‘ān.

When, during a discussion, an opinion of Qāz̤i ‘Iyāz̲ (478-544 A.H/1085-1149 A.D.) was quoted and over-emphasized by its narrator, Afg̲h̲āni remarked that whatever Qāz̤i ‘Iyāz̲ had said was according to his understanding and the needs of his own times. It would be more proper to say something which would be convincing and true rather than cite the opinion of Qāz̤i’Iyāz̲ and other teachers. He pointed out that Qāz̤i’Iyāz̲ and ‘ulama like him allowed themselves to reject the opinions of their predecessors and inferred those principles which suited the demands of their own age. Therefore, asked Afg̲h̲āni, “Why should we not deduce laws which would fulfill the requirements of our own age?”78

Besides helping in the formulation of laws meeting the demands of the modern age, ijtihād is also an effective instrument for purifying religion from false beliefs and corrupt practices indulged in by the mullās and represented as true articles of faith. He remarked that “ijtihād” rediscovers religion by removing superstitions.”79

To sum up, Afg̲h̲āni regarded Islam as a dynamic religion and not a static one. The jurists of Islam, from time to time, in response to the demands of the age, had exercised their own judgment to deduce laws and principles from the infallible sources – the Qur‘ān and the ḥadī_s, and, likewise, the present age with changed conditions was in need of a new interpretation.

Al-Qaz̤a va al-Qadar

The views of Afg̲h̲āni on this issue80 may be regarded as a reply to European criticism of the Muslims which ascribed their backwardness to the belief of al-qaz̤ā va al-qadar. According to such criticism, this belief was responsible for paralyzing the energies of the Muslims and was the chief cause of their moral degeneration. These doctrines made the Muslims regard all their actions and achievements as dependent on the will of God and, for the same reason, they were unable to safeguard their rights and protect their countries from tyranny – thus obstructing their overall progress.81

Afg̲h̲āni set aside this criticism and held that it confused the doctrine of qadar with that of jabr.82 Explaining the difference between the two, Afg̲h̲āni condemned the doctrine of jabr, the deterministic view which reduced man merely to an inanimate being, having no will of his own and no power over his actions. He also condemned the attitude presenting God as a coercive power upon whose will the existence of each and every event depended and which deprived man of the right of choice (ik̲h̲tiyār) in his actions and thus rendered futile human faculties of thought and action. Such an attitude would rob man of all urges for positive struggle, learning and acquisition, and would make his life useless.83 Afg̲h̲āni asserted that this conception was held valid by no one among the Muslims whether they be Sunni , Shi‘ah, Ismā‘īlī, Vahhābī, or k̲h̲ārijī.

On the other hand, Muslims had full faith in the freedom of will and action.84
With certain reservations, Afg̲h̲āni accepted both the basic principles of God’s omnipotence and human responsibility. He maintains that God is the Creator of the universe, which functions according to fixed natural laws. Events take place in time abiding by the law of causation, the causa causaus being God. It is through these natural laws and principles of causation that man is bound to God’s will. His knowledge of events is limited to the causes within the range of his perception (idrāk). Whatever is outside that range, whether in the past or in future, is known only to God.85

Explaining the close relationship between nature and human will, Afg̲h̲āni states that human will is produced by perception (idrāk) of the external phenomena and it is, in fact, one of the links in the chain of causes. The source of the causes underlying external events is God, Who has subordinated each event to a like cause.86 Thus, Afg̲h̲āni accepts God’s power over human will, not directly but through the law of causation.

Now, this situation leads to the question of human responsibility and brings in the issues of kasb (acquisition of power of action) and ik̲h̲tiyār (choice of action). Without making any distinction between the two terms and using both of them in the sense of ik̲h̲tiyār, he asserts that God has endowed man with full powers of choice over his actions. It is only the right of choice which makes human responsibility just and valid, and as such, man stands responsible to the laws of Shari‘ah for his acts and is liable to reward and punishment.87

Thus, Afg̲h̲āni differs slightly from the stand of al-Ash‘ari who, while admitting in man a power to act, emphasizes that it never in any way passes out of the control of God. Afg̲h̲āni’s point of view seems to be closer to the Māturīdī stand which holds that God has created in man the power really and not metaphorically.88 Afg̲h̲āni believes that God’s omnipotence is manifested, chiefly, in His being the Master of universe through unalterable laws of nature. He may be called a determinist in the sense that to him human actions cannot escape the effects inherent in natural laws.

The other aspect of his argument is ethical. He maintains that strong faith in law having full power over the events gives strength to human conduct. Belief in al-qaz̤ā va al-qadar makes man brave, patient, bold, generous and self-sacrificing so that he is prepared to face the circumstances without fear.89 Again, belief in predetermined death, faith in God as the provider of one’s livelihood, and complete trust in an Omnipotent Being gives sufficient courage to fight in defense of truth.90 He points out that it was in this sense that the early Muslims believed in al-qaz̤ā va al-qadar. He supports this view by citing the political and cultural triumphs of early Muslims which were brought about, according to him, by a religious momentum generated mostly by this belief.91

Besides, this belief does not rest exclusively on religious sanction, as such. It is more a rational attitude than a theological dogma. The rule of this law prevailed over all great human achievements wherever they took place. He argues that historical figures like Cyrus, Alexander, Jingiz Khan and Napoleon were the symbols of the spirit of al-qaz̤ā va‘l-qadar. Their achievements were due to bravery, courage, optimism, patience, open-heartedness, sacrifice and such other qualities as are inherent in this belief.92

Afg̲h̲āni, however, does not deny the fact that some elements of jabr have been introduced in the concept of al-qaz̤ā va al-qadar by the Muslims consciously or unconsciously. Probably the reason for the backwardness of the Muslims was their faith in absolute determinism. He suggests that this error should be rectified by the ‘ulamā and the true nature of this belief should be established by the removal of false elements.93

Caliphate

For a proper evaluation of Afg̲h̲āni’s concept of Caliphate it is necessary to study, first, his views on the Islam’s attitude towards the state and the people and the political responsibilities shared by them.

He maintains that Islam recognizes no distinction between religion and politics. These two are the branches of the same tree. The Prophet and the first four Caliphs were all religious authorities as well as rulers of the state.94 He holds that religion and politics are like soul and body and that is why God promises a political reward (i.e., government) for the faithful and the virtuous.95 In other words, Afg̲h̲āni regarded politics as the material expression of spiritual life.

He repeatedly states that in order to succeed, religion must be politically strong,96the elements of this strength being unity (ittiḥād) and political leadership (siyāsat). Discussing the difference between religious and irreligious polity, he remarks that the former leads a nation towards democracy, whereas the latter tends towards despotism. As a proof of this view he cites the election of the first four Caliphs and their advisory councils which guaranteed a true and effective freedom to the common opinion. On the contrary, monarchy openly disregards public opinion and is the chief product of materialist polity. He emphasized that Muslims should strive to bring back the Muslim states to their original democratic pattern so that religious politics is strengthened and the right of free expression is restored.97

Islam – A Democracy

Afg̲h̲āni firmly believed that the political structure of Islam was basically democratic. He supports this view by the Qur‘ānic verses which emphasize the importance of mutual consultation in all transactions. As regards the structure of the state, Islam had imposed strict restrictions upon the controlling body which formulated laws and awarded punishments.98 He regarded the Caliphate as a perfect democratic institution, representative of the community.99

W.S. Blunt, commenting on this, remarks that Afg̲h̲āni and his followers had always maintained that “the growing absolutism of Mohammadan princes in modern times was contrary to the spirit of Islam, which in its essence was a republic where every Muslim had the right of free speech in its assemblies, and where the authority of the ruler rested on his conformity to the law and on popular approval.”100 Afg̲h̲āni maintained that the government of the Muslims was based, first, upon Shari‘ah and, secondly, upon consensus of opinion (ijtimā‘ ārā al-ummah).101

The importance of the latter, he points out, was apparent from the fact that it has been placed on the same level as the divine command.102 Islam, thus gave the community the right to participate in state affairs and to control the working of the government as well.103 By participation he meant that the political and administrative responsibilities of the state should be shared equally by the ruler and the ruled.104 During his stay in Egypt, Afg̲h̲āni suggested that the people should participate in the government and that a truly constitutional government should be set up. Liberty and freedom were essential for man and were not granted willingly by the ruler to the people; they could be acquired only by force and sacrifice. The wise persons close to the ruler should guide him in the formation of a constitutional government. With popular representation in the government the sufferings of the people would be reduced. Citing the example of Western countries where dictatorships had been changed into democracies, Afg̲h̲āni believed that a democratic government was much suitable for Egypt and, in fact, for all Muslim states of the East.105

Afg̲h̲āni hoped that a great personality would appear among the Muslims, govern their states, fulfill the conditions of trust, obey a constitution and, ultimately, introduce a democratic form of government.106 The first step which he seems to suggest for changing the Muslim monarchies in to democracies was the formation of constitutional governments (mashr~ut̤iyat). His advocacy for the adoption of constitutional governments in the Muslim states and the abolition of despotism in Egypt, Persia and Turkey were the most significant aspects of his active political life.

Afg̲h̲āni held that justice could not flourish under despotism.107 He believed that despotism would ultimately disappear as it was against human nature. Despotism would survive in a country as long as ignorance prevailed among the people. With the spread of knowledge, the first step taken by the Muslims would be to change the government and liberate themselves from the bonds of dictatorship.108 In an address to the Persian patriots, he suggested that the principles of government should be laid down and a strong movement should be launched for adoption of a constitution and against despotism. “Law (qān~un) should rule over a nation, for, it treats the King and the beggar equally.”109 Afg̲h̲āni refuted the idea that formulation of laws was against Islam. On the contrary, it was through the promulgation of laws and establishment of consultative assemblies (dār as-sh~urā) that the true doctrine of Islam would gain real strength.110 Society could flourish only under a constitutional government (mashr~ut̤iyat).

Afg̲h̲āni compared the people to plants which were uprooted by the furious wind of despotism and, even if they survived, they could not bear fruit. On the other hand, law served as a gardener taking proper care of the growing plants according to their nature, helping them to grow stronger and bear fruit. Afg̲h̲āni condemned despotism which was opposed to people’s progress and individual efforts to attain high distinctions in life. It brought human beings down to the level of animals and took the soul out of a nation in such a way as to leave the body intact but lifeless.111

Rebuking the Persian people for tolerating the tyranny of despotism in silence, Afg̲h̲āni said, “God created you free but you have imprisoned yourselves. You have put the chains of the tyrant around your own necks.”112 He declared, “I hate both the oppressor and the oppressed; the oppressor for oppression and the oppressed for tolerating it (without protest). “113

In an article written in 1879, he emphasizes the benefits of constitutional government “which would set forth its beneficial results and show how those governed by it have been aroused by original human nature and stimulated to emerge from the lowly state of animality to ascend the highest degree of perfection and to cast off burden that despotic government lays upon them.”114

Following the classification of states available in the traditional medieval Muslim thought into cruel, oppressive and compassionate governments, Afg̲h̲āni holds that the compassionate government is the best.115

The Caliph, according to the Shari‘ah, should be a person who has full knowledge of the laws of Shari‘ah, has the power to execute them and enjoys the support of the community.116 The status of Caliph should not be achieved on the basis of inheritance, racial or tribal superiority, physical power, or by virtue of one’s wealth.117 A Caliph has no superiority over other Muslims except in the sense that he guides them in safeguarding the Shari‘ah and acts in defense of the community.118 It was by dint of these qualities that most of the earlier Muslim rulers claimed for themselves Caliphal rights.119 In a speech delivered on January 11, 1871, in a gathering of the Turkish constitutionalists at Constantinople, he declared that the Caliph, according to the Islamic principles, was the true representation belongs to all Muslims and no single individual could claim the right of deciding the fate of several millions of Muslims simply because he was of royal blood. The Caliph should be elected by general agreement in order to constitute an Islamic parliament based on the pattern of the consultative assembly during the time of the first four Caliphs.120 Naturally, Afg̲h̲āni’s concept of the Caliphate as a democratic institution could not be compatible with the continuance of despotism in Muslim countries, especially in Egypt, Iran and Turkey. Addressing the Muslim rulers, he stated that Islam was a constitution based on freedom and equality and, hence, the Caliph was like any other common Muslim. Referring apparently to the Turkish Sult̤ān, he remarked that if religion was the basis of the status enjoyed by him, the Muslim people, who were equally devoted to religion, should be allowed to share the responsibilities of the government. Afg̲h̲āni demanded that the government should obey the command of God and the Messenger.121 In Egypt, his efforts were directed, chiefly, towards establishing a constitutional Government. When Tavfiq became the k̲h̲edive, Afg̲h̲āni insisted that he should fulfill his promise of constitutional reforms – an undertaking which he had given before coming to throne—and advised him to give the people a place in the Sh~ura (consultative assembly) in order to strengthen his throne and the government.122 In Iran, he was more vigorous in his demands for the end of the despotic rule of Nāṣiruddīn Shāh and for the inauguration of a constitutional government (mashr~ut̤iyat). In Turkey, he was faced with the twin problem of constitutionalism and Caliphate. He complained that the Caliphate had degenerated into monarchy, which was acting without seeking advice of the people, whereas it should, in fairness, grant democratic liberties demanded by the people. He suggested that the Caliphate should not be confined to a particular dynasty, but should be given a wider popular basis – as a first step towards the establishment of a republic.123 He firmly believed that incase the existing generation failed to introduce the change, it would inevitably be brought about by its successor. The constitutionalists, he remarked, would finally succeed in bringing the Caliphate-monarchy in line with the true concept of Islamic Caliphate.124

However, in view of a lack of sufficient political consciousness among the Muslims, Afg̲h̲āni was fully aware of the possible dangers involved in the introduction of democracy in Muslim countries. He held that as long as Turkey was not capable enough to accept democracy, election of the Caliph from the royal dynasty might be allowed to continue; but he must be guided and advised in state-affairs by an independent advisory council elected with the consent of the people and gradually there would emerge an indirect cooperation between the people and the government.125

In brief, Afg̲h̲āni submitted that (a) despotic governments should be replaced by Islamic democracies; (b) constitutional governments should be formed as a preliminary step towards total democracy, and (c) the Caliphate was to be retained. It was the last which received greater attention in his discussion of al-Vaḥdat al-Islāmiyah, wrongly defined in the political West as militant Pan-Islamism.

Al-Vaḥdat al Islāmiyah

All aspects of Afg̲h̲āni’s religious thought ultimately merge into his project for the unity of the Muslims. His views are replete with anxious appeals to the Muslim people, the Muslim rulers, and the‘ulamā to strive for this unity. Quoting profusely from the Qur‘ān and the ḥadi_s he emphasized that without unity the Muslims could never survive and flourish. The old Islamic principle of uk̲h̲uvvah derived from the Qur‘ānic verse, “innama al-m~u‘min~un ik̲h̲vatun” (all Muslims are brethren) was, for the first time, utilized by him for practical political aims. In view of the growing political penetration of the European powers, especially the Britain, Afg̲h̲āni called the Muslims to forget their internal rivalries- political and religious- and unite against outside dangers. Declaring that “there is no nationality of Muslims except Islam (lā jinsīyah li‘l-Muslimīn illā fī dīnihim),”126 he reminds his fellow believers that unity (vifāq) and power (g̲h̲alb) are the two chief pillars of Islam.127 Deriving his inspiration from the verses of the Qur‘ān and ḥadī_s, he advises the Muslims to come closer to each other, remain steadfast on the true path of God and to purge the disruptive elements from amongst them.128 The Muslims, he pointed out, had already passed through the tribal state which was based on the concept of nationality (jinsīyah) and adopted religion as the basis of this organization.129 Faith in Islam was for him the only basis of Muslim unity. “Islamic society,” he states, “stands witness to the fact that Muslims do not recognize unity on the basis of tribe, colour or race. It is only the religious brotherhood which counts. One would observe, he points out, that as long as the ruler followed the Shari‘ah faithfully, the Arabs did not resent the rule of the Turks, the Persians readily accepted the government of the Arabs and the Indian Muslims that of the Afghans.

However, as soon as the ruler disregarded Shari‘ah and acted according to his own wishes, they turned against the ruler and he became worse than a stranger amongst his own people.”130 Hence, it is necessary that the Muslim states should unite under the Qur‘ānic principles to defend themselves from the foreign enemy and turn back the growing tide which had encircled the entire Muslim community. Could the Muslim states and the Muslim peoples rise from the ruins of their glorious past and face the might of the West? Afg̲h̲āni was confident that it was within the realm of possibility for them to do so. It has happened in history and in Muslim history itself. There were figures like Ab~u Muslim k̲h̲urāsāni whose movement brought about the downfall of the great Umayyad dynasty and Peter the Hermit, who campaigned in Europe and started the Crusades.131 He was sure that the Muslims could be awakened and fused into an Islamic unity (ittiḥād-i Islāmīyah) to face external threat.132

By 1883, he had come to the conclusion that there were no other alternatives for the Muslim survival and revival except a sense of belonging to Islamic unity which he termed as ‘aṣabīyah — a term borrowed from Ibn k̲h̲ald~un, and which was described in the West as “Pan-Islamism.” This ‘aṣabīyah he found in the growing trends among the Muslims for attachment to the ‘firm bond’ (al-‘urvah al-vu_sqā) of the Caliphate of Sult̤ān ‘Abdul ḥamīd.133 Britain, according to him, considered the prestige enjoyed by the Caliphate of Sult̤ān ‘Abdul ḥamīd throughout the Muslim world as an obstacle in the furtherance of her expansionist interests and wanted to destroy the axis of Muslim ‘aṣabīyah.134 The Ottoman Empire, for Afg̲h̲āni, was not only a symbol of Islamic unity but also a political means to preserve this unity and was the guardian of the ‘Eastern peoples.’ Its disintegration meant disintegration of Muslim unity and, therefore, it had to be protected.135

He further explains his idea of unity among the independent Muslim states in the following words: “I do not mean to plead for the rule of any particular person, as it may perhaps be considered to be difficult. However, I do wish that the command of the Qur‘ān should prevail over them and the religion of Islam, should serve as a means of their unity.”136 Afg̲h̲āni suggested that each ruler should take all measures for the security of his neighboring Muslim countries, since their existence depended upon each other.137 This unity would make it incumbent on all the Muslim states to put up a joint defense with the approval of the Caliph, whenever a member state was attacked by any foreign power.138 Such a project, in fact, did not mean to replace regional nationalism (qaumīyah al-qut̤r) by religious nationalism (qaumīyah al-dīn). He wanted that each Muslim state should, as an independent entity, unite with the other Muslim states for a single purpose, that is, political liberation.139 It is to be noted that Afg̲h̲āni has used the word jinsīyah in his addresses delivered in Egypt, India and Iran, as a concept unifying local peoples for specific purposes – political (against foreign intervention) and cultural (for greater social solidarity). As such, his concept of jinsīyah acquires a non-religious/secular character. For instance, in a talk given in Egypt in 1879,140 he describes “jinsīyah of the Eastern peoples” as based, not merely on Islam, but even on the pre-Islamic Egyptian, Phoenician or Chaldean civilization. He argues that this civilization was distinguished for its contributions to sciences like mathematics, engineering, philosophy, etc. The Phoenicians developed the art of writing and the Chaldeans the science of astronomy. He advised the Egyptians to establish a “ḥizb al-vat̤ani” (Party of Fatherland) which should “protect the rights of your country and guard its splendor” by highlighting the great contributions made by their forefathers and by comparing them with the present decay and by educating peoples of the country in the contemporary political developments and problems. He appealed for supporting attempts for the establishment of a constitutional government in Egypt.141 A similar glorification of ancient contribution of a people to knowledge has been resorted to by Afg̲h̲āni in India, with the similar purpose of unification of peoples of India against foreign domination. In a speech delivered in 1882 at Calcutta, he paid high tributes to Indian civilization – the cradle of humanity – for its historic contribution to world knowledge, particularly to mathematics, geometry, astronomy, law and philosophy.142 He criticizes the obstructive role of the Westerners in the intellectual awakening of Muslims in various countries. During his stay in Istanbul he pointed out143 that the peoples of the West were more interested in disunity and lethargy among the peoples of the East since it suited the former’s political interests. The Easterners have to unite for the protection and progress of their fatherland (vat̤an) under the guidance of their brave leaders. The Western peoples, in order to succeed in their designs, are ignoring the Eastern languages (like Arabic, Persian, Urdu, Hindi, etc.), culture and education. He points out that there is no community (jāmi‘ah) without a language, no language without a culture (adab), no honor without history and no history for a nation if there is no one to preserve the contribution of their great men. The maintenance of language, culture and honor of a community depends solely on the education of one’s own country (ta‘līm-i vat̤ani) based in one’s fatherland for the sake of fatherland, irrespective of religious or other difference among the peoples.144 Children should be sent to these people’s schools which impart patriotic education and teach sciences and technology which are useful for them.145 Afg̲h̲āni’s call for territorial patriotism should not be taken as going against his appeal for vaḥdat al Islāmīyah, aiming at the unity of all Muslims of various countries on the basis of faith. In fact, in his scheme, the territorial unities were essential in order to face the imperialist or dictatorial regimes and designs, as a whole. Thus vaḥdat al-Islāmiyah and the struggles for local unities were co-terminous.

Besides political unity, Afg̲h̲āni laid great stress on close coordination between the ‘ulamā of Muslim countries. He suggested that the ‘ulamā of each Muslim country should form organizations which should be united into a central organization set up at Mecca. This central organization would, in case of foreign interference, extend to the branches all kinds of help in religious and political matters. The organizations of the ‘ulamā, besides giving a religious leadership, would also ensure the purity of Islam against innovations. Mosques and Muslim schools, Afg̲h̲āni suggested, should be utilized as educational centres interconnected with each other and ready to respond when the occasion required.146

This unity was, of course, to be achieved under the framework of the Caliphate. He was prepared to accept any Muslim ruler as the Caliph provided the Islamic union had its capital at Constantinople. In a talk with W.S. Blunt, he expressed his willingness to accept Mahdi of Sudan, Sharīf Muḥammad Ibn ‘Aun or the Imām of Yemen as the Caliph.147

At this stage, it would be interesting to note that besides a union of Muslim countries, Afg̲h̲āni had also sought to bring Britain or Russia into a pact with the Muslim states. W.S. Blunt records several meetings in London in 1884-1885 between Afg̲h̲āni and Randolph Churchill and Drummond Wolf, during which the question of a British-Muslim alliance was raised. On July 23, 1885, Afg̲h̲āni suggested to Randolph Churchill that Britain must make an alliance with Islam, with the Afghans, the Persians, the Turks, the Egyptians and the Arabs, especially to check the possible Russian advance over Afghanistan and India.148 However, the talks came to an abrupt end due to lack of interest on the part of the British government. The failure of the talks made him change his plan altogether. He then, proposed to form “a union of Muslim countries with Russia against British Empire.”149 His anxiety to form the union is apparent from his readiness to accept help from whichever country it could be obtained. Earlier in January, 1885, he and his friends in London, considered another plan, described by Blunt as the Franco-Russo-Indian conspiracy – Afg̲h̲āni as its head.150 It was decided that if the Sult̤ān did not work with them he would be deposed. By this plan they wanted “to force terms of peace on England, failing which there might be a revolt in India.”151

His plans for such a unity were advocated most effectively in 1884, through his influential journal al-‘Urvah al-Vu_sqā. Addressing all Muslim rulers, ‘ulamā and common people, he called upon them to form an alliance. He was well aware of the Shi‘ah-Sunni schism which he took pains to iron out. He repeatedly appealed to Afghanistan and Iran to forget the superficial religious differences and to come closer to one another.152 Through the ‘Urvah he appealed to Persian journals to popularize especially those ideas which were related to Islamic unity and the restoration of national ties among the Muslims.153 He reminded the Afghans that they and the Iranians were, in fact, “two branches of the same tree”, that is, the ancient Iranian race.154 He suggested that the Iranian ‘ulamā and the mujtahids should write articles and pamphlets upon the need of unity among different groups of the Muslims.155 In 1892, Afg̲h̲āni was invited by Sult̤ān ‘Abdul ḥamīd II to Constantinople to give shape to his union plan. At the outset, Afg̲h̲āni accepted the Sult̤ān as the Caliph of the proposed union.156 Firstly, it was argued that negotiations should start at a higher level between ‘Abdul ḥamīd and the other Muslim rulers including Nāṣiruddīn Shāh of Persia, Khedive of Egypt, and the Sult̤ān of Moracco. Second, the chief obstacle to Muslim unity – the Shi‘ah-Sunni differences— should be removed by negotiations with the Shah. Sult̤ān ‘Abdul ḥamīd is reported to have agreed to Afg̲h̲āni’s proposal that as a gesture of good will the territory called Bain al-Nahrain (Iraq) in the Turkish Empire which was sacred to the Shi‘ah community, should be made a part of Iran. Thirdly, a high level organization should be established at Constantinople and should consist of two representatives from each Muslim country—one, representing that state, and the other, representing the people from among the ‘ulamā. This central organization would look after the problems of all Muslim countries and its decisions would be respected unequivocally by everyone.157 Again, if any European power interfered in the affairs of any Muslim country the organization would declare jihād and prohibit all trade relations with that power.158

Armed with the plan, Afg̲h̲āni entered into correspondence with the rulers and the ‘ulamā of the Muslim countries and the response was very encouraging.159 The letters were addressed to the Shi‘ah ‘ulamā of Iran, Iraq, India, the Arab countries, Balkh and Turkestan, requesting them to support the Sult̤ān. It is reported that within six months about (200) favorable replies were received.160 However, Afg̲h̲āni could not continue his work due to severe opposition by the persons close to the Sult̤ān, who were alarmed by Afg̲h̲āni’s intentions.161 In fact, there never existed an atmosphere of mutual trust between Afg̲h̲āni and the Sult̤ān. There was a basic difference between the pan-Islamic conceptions of the two. Afg̲h̲āni aimed at the wider and deeper religious and intellectual renaissance of the Muslims through removal of the major obstacle of political disunity. On the other hand, the Sult̤ān had supported the Islamic unity project for no other reason than to strengthen his own political authority in Asia as the spiritual head of the Muslims. It seems that with the progress of the plan this vital difference in outlook became more apparent. Besides, Afg̲h̲āni’s well-known advocacy for a constitutional government might have been another obstacle in their cooperation. The Sult̤ān, as subsequent political developments showed, was in no mood to surrender his despotic rule in favor of a constitutional government. So, the inevitable clash between their ultimate aims made Afg̲h̲āni abandon his work and with that his last hope for the fulfillment of his life mission was lost.

Islam and the West

Afg̲h̲āni, on the one hand, criticized Western hostility towards Islam in religious and political spheres and, on the other, laid equal emphasis on Islam as a modern and democratic religion. He vigorously attacked European political theories and religious attitudes in comparison with Islamic policy.

Having a firm belief in Islamic democracy,162 he dismissed the current political theories of the West as incapable of satisfying the needs of human society. He stated that there were three kinds of political system in Europe: Constitutionalism, which allows a limited freedom to common opinion; Democracy, which gives full representation to common opinion; Socialism, which upholds individual freedom and economic equality. He described Bolshevism and Communism as more developed forms of Socialism.163

Commenting upon Socialism he admitted that there was in it a tinge of Islamic brotherhood (uk̲h̲uvvah) since it recognized no distinction of colour and race. However, European thinkers had made the theory of Socialism too complex to be understood by the common people. The basis of unity in Socialism, that is, economic equality, had no attraction for the people in preference to the system based on religious and cultural affinities. He pointed out that it was an age full of commercial and political rivalries and as long as human society remained divided in this manner no country or people could follow the impracticable principle of economic equality.

On the other hand, Islam’s basis of unity, that is, tavhīd and belief in the Messenger, Muhammad, satisfied both the material and the spiritual aspects of human life.164
To the idea that Europe aimed at political betterment by means of atheism, Afg̲h̲āni remarked that it was, in fact, inspired by hostility towards Islam. The Christian world had lost its own unity of faith and its sects were not prepared to allow ordinary human rights to one another. The only standard of preference for them was racial superiority. However, the enlightened section of the people was tired of such disruptive ideas and wanted to eradicate the differences of race, color and religion and desired to establish a world of equality and common brotherhood. Now, there were two ways open for such people, (a) Spiritualism, leading towards true religion and (b) Materialism, culminating in atheism. Following the first path they would perforce arrive at Islam, the upholder of equality and brotherhood. Hence, European politician, not willing to see Islam in a better position, thought it best to direct the minds of the enlightened section towards atheism. Probably, European thinkers regarded atheism less dangerous to Christianity than Islam. Indeed, Europe, having no religious spirit, could not be afraid of atheism at all.165
Another factor in the European hostility towards Islam was political. According to Afg̲h̲āni’s analysis, most of the European powers at that time depended for their existence and progress upon the wealth and production of their Asian colonies.166 They knew that if Islam succeeded in the West, its democratic teachings would precipitate violent reaction in European circles against their imperialistic and colonial policies and they would have to lose the wealth they were accumulating as wages for their domination over their Asian possessions.167

Afg̲h̲āni pointed out that the West was exploiting religion to suit its double edged policy. Europeans came out as devout Christians whenever they intended to enslave some country. Whereas, when the enslaved nations, acting upon the commands of their religion, rose up for their independence, the same Europeans branded their action as religious fanaticism. In this manner, Europe treated religion not as a means of spiritual betterment, but as a political weapon.168

In an article,169describing the reasons of Christian supremacy, Afg̲h̲āni discussed the teachings of Islam and Christianity. Holding religious faith as a major factor in moulding human outlook and as the basis of cultural progress, he tried to find out the relation between the teachings of the two religions and the way their followers acted upon them. Christianity, Afg̲h̲āni states, is based on musālamah (peace), muyāsara (gentleness), raf‘ al-qiṣāṣ (giving up retaliation), it̤t̤irah al-mulk va’l-sult̤ah (casting away power and domination) and asceticism. It advises its followers to obey one who rules over them. They must not take interest in matters concerning the rulers and their possessions and should keep away from personal, national and religious controversies. The statement of the new Testament, “whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek turn to him the other also”,170 exhibits the spirit of non-violence in Christianity. In view of these basic doctrines of Christianity, Afg̲h̲āni expresses surprise at the conduct and actions of the Christians which were quite contrary to its teachings. He remarks that in practice the Christians were a most world-loving and power-seeking people. There was no limit to their pursuance of the pleasure of mortal life. They occupied distant countries, invented new military weapons, used them against their enemies as well as against each other and concentrated upon organizing armies and developing war tactics. Warfare had become almost a science for them. All such activities were not in harmony with the principles of Christianity.

In comparison with Christianity, the basic characteristic of Islam was to struggle for supremacy and to defend itself against any law other than Islam. According to Islam, the Muslims should liberate themselves from any ruler who does not act in accordance with the Shari‘ah. To invent weapons, develop military sciences and acquire such sciences as physics, chemistry and geometry, which help in the mastery of military techniques, are important needs of the Muslims. The fact that the Shari‘ah had prohibited all kinds of betting except on horsemanship and archery (which had military importance) showed that Islam approved of the learning of military arts.

Having explained the fundamental doctrines of the two religions, he enquires why it was that the followers of Christianity, a non-aggressive religion, had surpassed all other peoples in mastering military sciences and were dominating the Muslims whose religion sought power over others. It was the Muslims who used such weapons in the Crusades as were quite unknown to the Christians. Quoting Sir John Malcom’s History of Persia, he points out that Maḥm~ud of Ghazna used canons during his Indian invasions and defeated the Hindus. In Afg̲h̲āni’s opinion, the reason for the rise of the Christians did not lie in their following the teachings of Christianity. It was, in fact, their total disregard for the Christian doctrines which put the Christians on the path of progress. Afg̲h̲āni’s analysis of the growth of Christianity is as follows:

He states that Christianity was first embraced by the Romans who, even after their conversion, retained certain beliefs, manners and morals, inherited from their previous faith. Christianity did not impose upon them its new beliefs and laws; instead, it entered into a kind of compromise with their old manners, customs, laws and thoughts. Thus, the new teachings did not eradicate the old beliefs. Second, in the early period, due to the domination of the clergy, the Bible was not within reach of the common people. It resulted in preventing the propagation of the true teachings of Christianity. The doctrines of Christianity were wrongly interpreted when the Roman Catholic priests, taking upon themselves the function of legislation, provided a religious sanction for the Crusades. At a later stage, disintegration appeared among the beliefs of the Christians and different sects propagated ideas against the domination of the Church. The Christians reverted to the ideas of their ancestors which were quite contrary to the Christian precepts of peace. Those ideas inspired the Christians with the desire for knowledge. They made a rapid advance in military arts as well as other sciences and achieved a prominent position among the peoples of the world.

Contrary to the progress of the Christians which was made by virtue of non-Christian ideas and principles, the early cultural victories of the Muslims were due to their following faithfully the true teachings of Islam. Their disintegration took place when the true principles of Islam were distorted by the admixture of alien influences and beliefs which were held by certain communities converted to Islam. For instance, the doctrine of jabr was chiefly responsible for paralyzing Muslim thinking. In the third and the fourth centuries of Hijrah, heresies emerged. The Sophists propagated the concept that all existence was the product of mere fancy and hallucination. False Traditions were attributed to the Prophet and were mixed up with those which were sound. These false Traditions inflicted a serious blow upon the beliefs, thoughts, and conduct of the Muslims. Besides, the inadequate educational system rendered the ‘ulamā incapable of carrying the true teachings of Shari‘ah to the common people. In this manner, the Muslims lost sight of those principles which might have greatly helped them in their cultural advancement.171

In the above analysis, the chief emphasis of Afg̲h̲āni is upon those doctrines which deal with material progress and political consolidation. The progress of the Christians, according to him, was due to their acting upon such doctrines although they did not belong to their religion. The Muslims remained backward because they disregarded these principles which enjoyed religious sanction. Afg̲h̲āni remarks that a nation which accepted Islamic principles consciously or unconsciously was bound to progress. Islam was a religion of action and not merely a jumble of words and terms.172

Ishtirākīyah (Socialism)

Afg̲h̲āni was fully alive not only to the political events taking place in the West but also to the various ideologies shaping the Western society and reacted to them as a Muslim intellectual. One of such reactions was with regard to socialism. In 1881, Afg̲h̲āni condemned socialism along with communism and nihilism as ideologies destructive to human society.173 However, he later modified his assessment of socialism partially. This is evident in his views expressed on this subject174 during his stay in Istanbul (1892-97) in response to a question put to him by a Turkish man-of-letters whom Afg̲h̲āni held in high respect. The questioner stated that “the best thing in the European renaissance is Socialism – a movement aiming to restore to the working people the rights which have been denied to them. Now if Islam and Muslim shaik̲h̲s will go on resisting Socialism, it will do irreparable damage which we in wisdom must seek to prevent.” In his reply, Afg̲h̲āni dwelt on the basic weaknesses of Socialism and the merits of Islamic Socialism. By Socialism, Afg̲h̲āni understood sharing (ishtirāk) by the poor in the wealth and comforts of the rich. His main contention is that the Western Socialism is the product of the revolt of the poor (mustaz̤‘ifīn) against their suppression by the well-to-do. Islamic Socialism, on the other hand, is inherent in the Arab culture and Islamic teachings. Analyzing Western Socialism, he says that it “owes its being solely to the vindictive feelings against unjust rulers and unjust laws and the jealousy on the part of the workers (‘ummāl) of those who have grown rich by virtue of their labor and toil. These, moreover, accumulated fortunes which are used by them foolishly, extravagantly and wastefully before the very eyes of those who produced it all and got it out, as it were, from the very ground. In short, the diverse needs of civilized life are all of them supplied by the laborers.”175 Again, the exploitation by the rich and reaction of the exploited, both exhibited lack of moderation. “The rich in the West have grossly trifled with the rights of the workers and that of the poor, and these in turn have gone too far in their defiance of those who have robbed them of their rights and who only seem to care for position and prestige.”176 Here, religion becomes relevant. “Socialism, with no religious foundation, and with no authority to restrain (wrong doing) and work for the general good, can only introduce chaos and must eventually suffer a reverse.”177

Socialism, in the Islamic context, is not a consequence of any social or economic development, but is inherent in Islamic teachings. It is “a part and parcel of the religion of Islam; it is also closely related to the character of its peoples from the time when they were nomad peoples.”178 Afg̲h̲āni refers to the cultural trait of the pagan Arabs of their rich helping the poor of their tribe. Citing the example of ḥātim of Taiy and t̤alḥāh of Talhas who used to offer whatever they had to meet the needs of the needy, Afg̲h̲āni draws attention to the fact that the help was asked by and offered to the needy not out of any obligation as such, but it was a feature of the Arab culture itself. “This may be taken as an example of the kind of Socialism they had before Islam. And while assets remained private property, they were well used and shared; that was what made Socialism acceptable and admirable. There was no selfishness and no arrogance vis-à-vis the poorer people just because one had a noble horse, or delicacies to be enjoyed in company, or a fine house to live in, while the one who created all the riches, the poor labourer, occupied a poor shack with no leg room and having his children outside exposed to the freezing cold and the scorching heat with not enough bread to still his hunger or clothes to cover his nakedness.”
“This is what the wealthy are like at the present day and this is what makes the working classes resort to Socialism; they are vindictive. Their exaggerated claims are met with complete unconcern and even their most elementary rights are treated with indifference. This must work up to a grave situation in the West, which will not leave the East unaffected.”179

Afg̲h̲āni, further strengthens his contention of Socialism being rooted in Islam by quoting the Qur‘an. In the very first chapter, the Qur‘ān highlights the principle of human equality through God’s being ‘the Lord of the Worlds’ (Rabbul‘ālamīn), that is, He is the only God of all human beings, Muslims being a part of all other created beings in the world. Second, the Qur‘ān at several places has instructed for sharing (ishtriāk) of all the wealth obtained in a war by all. The Qur‘ān commands that the warriors and the conquerors should protect the rights of the weak who do not participate in jihād and they should have a share of the spoils of the war.180 Besides the shares to Allah and the Messenger, the third share must go to z̲avi al-qurba (the relatives), and the weak (al-mustaz̤‘ifīn) who, for some reason or other, “did not take part in the fighting nor helped to get the spoil, but must not on that account be deprived of a share (of the spoil) which was obtained by the strong who risked their lives in the attempt.”181 Afg̲h̲āni holds that this was based “on the wisdom of sharing, or ishtirāk as was the practice, to the mutual satisfaction of those who did the fighting and those who did not. After God and the Messsenger, priority was given to those related to the warriors according to their affinity to those who looked after their children in their absence. Next come those who were not so related, here named ‘orphans’. The sharing is then made to include the poor, al-masākīn: the sharing was made to go still further so as to include the wayfarer. This then was a form of Socialism of which there is none better or more inclusive”. Again, the Qur‘ān “censures those who accumulate riches and commends those who unselfishly support and feed the poor, although they may so short themselves.”182

Afg̲h̲āni then cites the examples of the personalities who set examples of ‘Socialist’ living according to Islam, particularly, the Messenger and the early caliphs, Ab~u Bakr and ‘Umar. The first such instance was the fraternity established by the Messenger among the muhājirīn (the immigrants) and the anṣār (the helpers) in Medina. It was “a noble piece of work and an unmistakable example as to how sharing was accepted to the letter. This arrangement enabled the emigrant Muslim without compromising his religion contentedly to leave his country and domicile, his kith and kin, his property and possessions, happy to reach Medina in safety. The helper, on his part, remaining where he was with his folk, his home and possessions, was content to share everything with his emigrant brother.” This selflessness and refinement, Afg̲h̲āni emphasizes, could be generated only by religion.183

Islam, he further argues, treats a social system defective if there is a vast gulf between the rich and the poor. Wealth in quantity and quality is something to be shared with the poor and not to be accumulated by a few to the envy of others. Islamic teachings suggest ways and means to bridge the gulf between the rich and the poor. Zakāt is one of them which is levied on one’s capital. The other measures include distribution of one fifth of the war booty and charity among the needy.184 With regard to the Islamic prohibition of usury (ribā), Afg̲h̲āni states: ‘Where the situation demanded it, the Imam could allow a reasonable interest, but this should not overburden the debtor nor would it at any time exceed the (original) capital. The Qur‘ān thus differentiated (between such creditors and) fraudulent usurers who taking religion as a cloak and pretending to eschew usury (resorted to the legal fiction) of selling some commodity at three times its value to the hard pressed buyer, the difference in price being nothing else than the usury (for the loan). This is how they deceive themselves, claiming that they did not transgress the law which forbade usury.”185

Afg̲h̲āni compares the pre-Islamic and Islamic society with reference to the distortions produced by wealth or the wealthy in a social system:186 In the pre-Islamic, Jāhilīya, period the difference between the very rich and the poor in terms of material amenities was not much and therefore there were no feelings of jealousy or hatred towards the rich among the poor people. During the early period of Islam, the Caliphs led a life of austerity as practiced by the Messenge in spite of the flow of wealth through war-booty. Under Ab~u Bakr’s caliphate the Arab society maintained this life-style. However, during the period of the second Caliph ‘Umar, in the wake of accumulation of wealth pouring in from various parts of the empire, all the vices of affluence appeared among the high state-officials. Governors including Mu‘āviyah (Iraq) or ‘Amr ibn al-‘āṣ (Egypt), commanders and other high officials adopted all manners of luxurious living. ‘Umar, observing in this trend a threat to the whole social structure, started taking stringent measures to check it. He admonished them and confiscated half the properties of the governors. “This was a lesson which all Muslims could appreciate that the ruler and the ruled alike were to put away greed, selfishness and conceit.” ‘Umar himself led a very austere life.

During the period of the third Caliph,‘U_smān, the spiritual conditions (ḥālāt al-r~uḥīyah) of the Muslim community changed. The earlier simplicity gave way to luxurious living. This appeared mainly among the Caliph’s kith and kin, princes and the high officials. The society was divided into various classes: the princes, nobles and the rich, on the one hand, and, on the other, the laboring classes and the sons of the warriors who had earlier defended Islam and established the Muslim state. The latter, not being a part of the government and the nobility, could not lead a prosperous life. Along with the increase of luxurious living among the nobles and government officials and the fief-holders, vices like pride and arrogance also appeared. This situation, according to Afg̲h̲āni’s analysis, gave rise to class conflict and the laboring classes produced “a class of intelligent poor, who seeing the injustice of it all, began to ask for their rights and they knew them from the scripture and the exemplary lives of the first two caliphs.” Afg̲h̲āni cites the example of Ab~u z̲ar Ghiffārī, a Companion of the Prophet, as the most outspoken critic of the rich. Realizing the damage inherent in this development, he approached Mu‘āviyah and “spoke to him of the need for turning back to live the life of the pious ancestors, to curb opulence and to put a stop to those things which make for envy and to eradicate them from the Muslim governing classes. They themselves, enduring hardships and deprivations, were living among people who were enjoying a life of ease despite the fact that neither they nor their fathers did anything for Islam, nor were they superior in any way by reason of character, by services rendered or by physical powers or learning, to give them the right to the luxuries they were enjoying, apart from the fact that they were connected with army leaders and government officials.”

Mu‘āviyah replied that he could do nothing in this regard except urging peoples to give more alms; “he could but counsel and softly exhort to abstain from what might excite envy, but could do nothing more.” Ab~u z̲ar left in disgust and exhorted those suffering under hardships “to rise and demand what was their due and was taken from them by people without any legal sanction with any precedent to go on. This resulted in a commotion and Mu‘āviyah and his partisans feared the dire consequences that might follow.” Mu‘āviyah referred this matter to the Caliph ‘U_smān who called Ab~u z̲ar. Ab~u z̲ar repeated to the Caliph the saying of the Messenger that when the built up areas in Medinah, soaring and spreading should extend to mount Sal‘a one should emigrate: “The buildings put up by you and Mu‘āviyah, your kinsman, have reached towering heights. I therefore bid you farewell, leaving you your work and that of your agent.” Afg̲h̲āni comments that what Ab~u z̲ar did was to advise the Caliph and his officials “to protect the rights of Muslims and thus forestall the formation of a Socialist faction motivated by feelings of revenge, and urged them to do as the Scriptures say and implement it in the manner of Ab~u Bakr and ‘Umar.”

Afg̲h̲āni sums up his analysis by asserting that the true, reasonable and beneficial Socialism is only the Islamic Socialism as practiced by the two Caliphs, Ab~u Bakr and ‘Umar. Any other type of Socialism may be only ‘a catchword’ and ‘must end up in bloodshed, the massacre of the innocents and a devastation which will benefit no one.”187

The above description shows that Afg̲h̲āni’s understanding of Socialism was confined to the basic socialistic concept of sharing (ishtirāk) by the weak in the wealth of the rich. He does not appear to be interested in Socialism being a social and political system. For him, Socialism, without God, was a negative movement, initiated by the poor out of jealousy and vindictiveness against the rich. Whereas, Islamic socialism based on a firm religious concern for the uplift of the poor and weak sections of the people, functions as a policy of the Islamic state. Obviously, Afg̲h̲āni’ understanding of Socialism, in the early stage of the development of this concept, was valid in as much as he considered it as a product of the reaction of the down-trodden, while its being a full-fledged economic and social system was not, at that time, a point of discourse. In any case, Afg̲h̲āni’s description of Socialism as rooted in Arab culture and Islam made in as early a period as the last decade of 19th century, deserves attention as being the first attempt at defining Islamic Socialism (ishtirākīyah al-Islām) in the modern history of Muslim thought.188

References

1. Nikki R. Keddie holds that Afg̲h̲āni was born in Asadābād, Iran, without drawing any conclusion about his being a Shi‘ah. Biography, Chapter 2.
2. Risālah, p. 9; See also SH, p. 101; Sharh, p83; ā_~sār, p. 123. His being Sunni was a well known fact. When Afg̲h̲āni was invited by Nāṣiruddīn Shāh to visit Persia and was offered the post of Prime Minster and he accepted the invitation, he was warned by his friend Shaik̲h̲ ‘Abdul Qādir al-Mag̲h̲ribi to be on his guard. “How could he invite you to fill such a position, seeing that you are notorious for your efforts to strengthen the Sunni faith?” To this the Syed replied: “Mere fancy and folly on his part.” E. G. Brown, The Persian Revolution (Cambridge, 1910), p. 10; ‘Abdul Qādir al-Mag̲h̲ribi, Jamāl al-Dīn al-Afghānī (Egypt, 1947), p. 80
3. W.S. Blunt, India under Ripon, London, 1900, p. 4; E.G. Browne, op. cit., p. 402. For a similar view, see, Risālah, p.10
4. Documents, pp. 11-15. For the influence of Shaik̲h̲i school, Cf. Biography, p. 19 ff.
5. Documents, p. 14, doc. 9, pl. 7, photo, 18; tr. Biography, p. 38
6. Sharh, pp. 107-8
7. Risālah, p. 9; Sharh, p. 85
8. Azhar Amratsari, Paig̲h̲ām-i ḥaq (Lahore, Jan.-Feb., 1947), p. 82; See also, Furṣat al-Davlah Shīrāz̤i, Dīvān-i-Furṣat (Tehran, 1338 Solar), p. 24
9. Paig̲h̲ām-i ḥaq, p. 76
10. Sharh, pp. 87-88
11. Paig̲h̲ām-i |ḥaq, p. 82
12. Ibid.
13. Sharh, Ibid.
14. Ibid., pp. 89-90. According to an account, he gave lectures on astronomy on the basis of a book written in English. Dīvān-i Furṣat, p. 20
15. Sharh, Ibid.
16. Cf. pp. 56 below ff.
17. For instance, while explaining the outdated astronomical researches of the early Muslim scholars, Afg̲h̲āni advised one of his disciples, Mirza Muhammad ‘Alī k̲h̲ān Sadid al-Salt̤anah, to study the works of modern astronomers, who had refuted all the ancient notions of astronomy and proved the modern theories by rational arguments. Dīvān-i Furṣat, pp. 18-20
18. M, p. 95
19. Zu‘amā, p. 114
20. Al-Manār, viii, pp. 399-400
21. SH, p. 102
22. Cf. p. 57 below ff.
23. ‘Urvah, I, p. 88
24. Ibid., pp. 88-89
25. Ibid., p. 89
26. Cf. Chap. III, p. 77 below ff.
27. Ibid.
28. H, pp. 70-71
29. H, pp. 21-34; Cf. Chap. III, p. 77 ff.
30. Al-‘Urvah al-Vu_sqā (Cairo, 1957), p.11
31. Ibid.
32. H, pp. 74-83
33. Ibid., p. 12
34. Ibid., pp. 75-76
35. Ibid., pp. 75-76
36. Ibid., pp. 76-79
37. Francois Guizot (1787-1874), the French statesman and historian, wrote this brilliant work, in six volumes, in 1829-32. (Eng. Tr. By William Hazlitt, 3 Vols., 1846). It is incomplete and covers principally the civilization of France upto the 14th century
38. H, p. 70
39. Mag̲h̲ribi, op. cit., pp. 95-96
40. H, pp. 79-82
41. k̲h̲āt̤irāt (Arabic), pp. 137-39. k̲h̲āt̤irāt (Persian), pp. 76-78
42. Ibid.
43. Khāt̤irāt (Arabic), pp. 141-42
44. M, p. 165
45. Shaik̲h̲ Muḥammad Mahallātī, Guftār-i k̲h̲ush-i Yār Quli (Tehran, 1327 A.H.), p. 59
46. M, p. 139
47. Sharh, pp. 97-8
48. Mahallāti, op. cit., pp. 59-69
49. M, pp. 139-140
50. Murtaz̤ā Mudarrisi Cahārdihi, Zindagānī v Falsafah-yi Ijtimā‘ī v Siyāsī-yi Syed Jamāl al-Dīn (Tehran, 1334 A.H.), p. 123
51. Article in Pall Mall Gazette, Dec. 30, 1891, quoted, Biography, pp. 361-62
52. Ibid.
53. Ma_g̲h̲ribi, op. cit., pp. 57-59
54. Vol. I, published in 1880; Vol. II, 1882; Vol. III, 1885; Vol. IV, 1888; Vol. V., 1892; Vol. VI, 1895. Afg̲h̲āni’s criticism is based on the first two volumes.
55. M, pp. 100-101
56. Ibid., pp. 102-103
57. Ibid., pp. 100-101
58. Ibid., pp. 102-103
59. Ibid., pp. 100-101
60. Ibid., pp. 103-04
61. See the following discussion on ‘Aqīdah
62. ‘Urvah, pp. 161-162
63. Ibid., p. 216
64. M., p. 104
65. Ibid., pp. 102-104
66. M., pp. 102-104
67. Mahallāti, op. cit., p. 59
68. ‘Urvah, i, pp. 161-162
69. Cf. pp.173 above ff.
70. SH, pp. 102
71. Ibid., p. 101
72. Sharh, p. 89
73. Zu‘amā, p. 113
74. Ibid., See also SH, p. 102. He does not appear to have a very high opinion of the existing fiqh literature which he finds full of contradictions, Cf. Anwar al-Jundi, Al-Sharq fi Fajr al-Yaqzam, Cairo, 1969, pp. 30-33, quoted in Biography, p. 304
75. Sharh, p. 109
76. Zu‘amā, p. 113
77. Ibid.
78. Ibid.
79. Paig̲h̲ām-i ḥaq, p. 71
80. ‘Urvah, pp. 161-74
81. Ibid., pp. 163-164
82. Ibid., p. 164
83. Ibid.
84. Ibid.
85. Ibid.
86. Ibid.
87. W. Montgomery Watt, Free Will and Predestination in Early Islam London, 1948, p. 142
88. Ibid., p. 155
89. ‘Urvah, I, p. 167
90. Ibid., p. 168
91. Ibid., pp. 168-169
92. Ibid., pp. 170-171
93. Ibid., pp. 171-72
94. Salim Effendi, al-Uk̲h̲uvvah fi’l-Islām,, op. cit., Paig̲h̲ām-i ḥaq, pp. 48-49
95. ‘Aqil ‘Alavi, Kawākib al-Sharq, cit., Ibid., p. 74
96. Ibid., p. 41
97. Salim Effendi, op. cit., p. 49
98. ‘Urvah (1957 edition), p. 10
99. Salim Effendi, op. cit., p. 51
100. SH, pp. 124-125; Sharh p.112
101. ‘Urvah (1957 edition), p. 10
102. ‘Urvah (1957 edition), ii, p. 10
103. Haidar Bamat, cit., ‘Urvah (1957 edition), p. 25
104. Salim Effendi, op. cit., pp. 59-60
105. k̲h̲āt̤irāt (Persian), pp. 84-85; k̲h̲āt̤irāt (Arabic), pp. 52-53
106. Ibid.
107. Ibid., p. 84
108. Ibid., p. 87
109. Dīvān-i Furṣat, p. 25
110. Ibid., pp. 26-27
111. Ibid., pp. 23-24
112. Ibid., p. 25
113. TBI, p. 62
114. Art. “ Al-Huk~umat al-Istibdādiyah,” Miṣr, ii, no. 33, 1897, tr. L. M. Kenny, “al-Afg̲h̲āni on Types of Despotic Government”, Journal of the American Oriental Society, 86, 1, 1960, pp. 19-27
115. Ibid.
116. ‘Urvah (1957 edition), p. 10
117. Ibid.
118. Ibid.
119. Ibid., p. 11
120. Salim Effendi, op. cit., p. 50
121. Ibid., pp. 49-50
122. Maḥm~ud Qāsim, Jamāl al-Dīn al-Afg̲h̲ānī, ḥayātuh~u v Falsafatuh~u, Cairo, n.d., p. 42; Muḥammad Pāshā Mak̲h̲z~umi, cit., al-‘Urvah (1957 edition), Introduction.
123. Salim Effendi, op. cit., p. 50
124. Ibid., p. 51
125. Ibid., p. 63. It should be noted that the Young Turks movement in the form of the Committee of Union and Progress (1889-1987) held similar views regarding the political setup in Turkey. Cf. E. E. Ramsaur, Young Turks, Prelude to the Revolution of 1908, New Jersey, 1957, p. 43
126. ‘Urvah, i, p. 218
127. ‘Urvah, ii, pp. 9-10
128. Ibid., p. 113
129. ‘Urvah, (1958 edition), pp. 382-87
130. ‘Urvah, (1957 edition), p. 11
131. Letter of Afg̲h̲āni to a high dignitary of the Ottoman Government, Documents, photos 26-27. Cf. Biography, pp. 131-38, for a detailed analysis of the letter.
132. Ibid.
133. Art. “Asbāb al-ḥarb bi Miṣr,” (Reasons for War with Egypt), al-Manār, Cairo, xxv, pp.756-60, reprinted from the Bee/an-Naḥla, London, V. 3. As suggested by Keddie, this was probably Afg̲h̲āni’s first reference to Pan-Islamism. Biography, p.184
134. Ibid. It is to be noted here that Afg̲h̲āni was aware of the distinction between ‘aṣabīyah and ta‘aṣṣub. Ta‘aṣṣub , according to him, is the application of ‘aṣabīyah for the preservation and defense of one’s own community, ‘Urvah (1958 edition), pp. 382-87. However, it has been misused by the Muslims in a negative sense (fanaticism) damaging their own interests. Afg̲h̲āni’s speech in 1879, Miṣr, May 24, 1879, quoted, Biography, pp. 108-9
135. Open letter to al-Baṣīr, Paris, Feb. 8, April 26, 1883, quoted, op. cit., p. 185
136. ‘Urvah, i, pp. 221-22; Sharh, p. 109
137. Ibid.
138. Paig̲h̲ām-i ḥaq, p. 63
139. ‘Urvah (1957 edition), p. 29
140. Art. “Al-ḥakīm al-Sharq,” Miṣr, 11, No. 47, May 24, 1879, tr. Biography, pp. 108-10
141. Ibid.
142. M, pp. 88-89
143. k̲h̲āt̤irāt (Arabic), pp. 85-86
144. Ibid.
145. Ibid. pp. 87-88
146. ‘Urvah, i, pp. 119-20
147. W.S. Blunt, Gordan at Khartoum (London), 1911), p. 492. Afg̲h̲āni states that he suggested to Sharif al-Husain to claim the Caliphate, but the latter pointed out that it was not possible to do so without armed support. Ibid.
148. W.S. Blunt, op. cit., pp. 467-68
149. Ibid., p. 500
150. Ibid., p. 358
151. Ibid.
152. ‘Urvah, ii, pp. 172-75
153. Ibid., p. 14
154. Ibid.
155. Ibid., p. 128
156. TBI, p. 89; E.G. Browne op. cit., p. 82. He favoured the Sult̤ān for the Caliphate reluctantly and mostly because of the respect he enjoyed among the Muslims.
157. Sharh, pp. 57-58. For other contemporary accounts of his Pan-Islamic activities, see, Biography, pp. 373 ff.
158. Sharh, pp. 57-58
159. E.G. Browne, op. cit., pp. 83084; TBI, pp. 89-90; Sharh, p. 59; Biography, pp. 380 ff.
160. Biography, pp. 377-81 ff.
161. Ibid.
162. Cf. pp. 19 above ff.
163. Paig̲h̲ām-i ḥaq, pp. 39-40
164. Ibid., pp. 40-41
165. Ibid., p. 40
166. Ibid., p. 41
167. Ibid., pp. 42-43
168. Ibid., p. 43. See also Revue Du Monde Mussulman, March, 1913, art., “Panislamism et Panturquisme,” p. 194
169. ‘Urvah, i, pp. 89-95
170. Mathew, v, 39
171. Ibid., p.94
172. ‘Aqil ‘Alavi, cit., Paig̲h̲ām-i ḥaq, p. 75
173. Cf. Chap. IV, pp. 93ff. infra
174. k̲h̲āt̤irāt (Arabic), pp. 118-30. Eng. tr. Sami A. Hanna, “Al-Afghani: A Pioneer of Islamic Socialism,” Muslim World, Vol. LVII, No. 1, January 1967.
175. k̲h̲āt̤rāt, p. 120
176. Ibid.
177. Ibid.
178. Ibid.
179. Ibid., p. 121
180. Ibid., p. 122
181. Ibid.
182. Ibid.
183. Ibid., p. 123
184. Ibid.
185. Ibid., pp. 123-24 Afg̲h̲~āni quotes the following Qur‘ānic verses: ‘Those who swallow usury cannot rise up save as he ariseth whome the devil hath prostrated by (his) touch. That is because they say: ‘Trade is just like usury’; whereas Allah permitteth trading and forbiddeth usury. He unto whom an admonition from his Lord cometh, and (he) refraineth (in obedience thereto), he shall keep (the profits of) that which is past, and his affair (henceforth) is with Allah. As for him who returneth (to usury) – such are rightful owners of the Fire. They will abide therein.” (2: 275)
“Allah hath blighted usury and made almsgiving fruitful, Allah loveth
not the impious and guilty.” (2: 276)
“O ye who believe! Devour not usury, doubling and quadrupling the (sum lent). Observe your duty to Allah, that ye may be successful.” (3: 130)
“If ye publish your almsgiving, it is well, but if ye hide it and give it to the poor, it will be better for you, and will alone for some of your ill-deeds. Allah is informed of what ye do.” (2: 271)
“The alms are only for the poor and the needy, and those who collect them, and those whose hearts are to be reconcile, and to free the captives and the debtors, and for the cause of Allah, and (for) the wayfarers; a duty imposed by Allah. Allah is Knower, Wise.” (9: 60)
‘Lo! Good deeds annul ill deeds. This is a reminder for the mindful.” (11: 114)
186. Ibid., pp. 124-29
187. Ibid., p. 129
188. Hanna, op. cit., p. 24