I went into the discussion "Who Speaks
for Islam?" assuming that it would be an informative but relatively tame chat between two like-minded people. The speakers listed on the
program--Irshad Manji and Dalia Mogahed--were both women intellectuals raised and
educated in the West; based on their bios, it was hard to imagine either one of them advocating anything but a modern, democratic approach to the Muslim faith.
But as soon as I glanced at the stage, it was obvious that the discussion was going to be edgier than I'd expected. Manji was dressed in a funky orange top with butterfly sleeves, and she had uncovered hair in the spiky shape of a sea anemone. Mogahed, on the other hand, wore a beige blazer and long skirt, and her neck and head were hidden beneath a champagne-colored hijab. What followed was not a debate between an extremist and a liberal but a nuanced discussion between a moderate and a reformer. And that's what made it riveting.
After greeting the Muslims in the room with "Salam aleykum" and the atheists with "How the hell are ya?", Manji launched into a spirited defense of religious reform. The problem, she insisted, was that ordinary Muslims were afraid to forge a personal relationship with the texts. Instead of countering extremist interpretations with more tolerant readings of the same verses, Muslims were quietly looking to elite scholars and clerics to show them the way.
Mogahed responded, speaking more gently but no less articulately than Mogahed. She described the Muslim approach to analyzing the texts, a process known as ishtihad. Any man or woman has the authority to offer legitimate interpretations, she explained, as long as that person first puts in the requisite hours of work and scholarship. "But when we open it to simply anyone," she argued, "what we risk is the ishtihad of ignorance." In other words, giving unlimited authority to the masses will allow more Osama Bin Ladens to be born.
I found this argument oddly compelling, probably because I have a passing acquaintance with Orthodox Judaism. Unlike evangelical Christians who take the Bible at its word, Orthodox rabbis read scripture through the long lens of scholarly tradition. I'm not an observant Jew myself, and I'm baffled whenever I look at a page of the Talmud, where a single Hebrew verse gives rise to a maze of Aramaic interpretation. In a strange way, though, the Talmudic method encourages rigorous questioning even more than liberal Judaism does. It's hard to argue with an independent thinker who announces, "Here's what I think this verse means." But when you're poring over endless opinions on the semantics of a single word or the legal implications of a one-line commandment, it's easy to get into lively debates about what the Torah is actually trying to say.
While I empathized with Mogahed's position, it was hard to deny any of Manji's arguments for Islamic reform. When Mogahed insisted that Bin Laden's speeches were mere political rhetoric sandwiched between praisings of God and the Prophet, Manji pointed out Muslim extremists do justify their violence with actual verses from the Koran. Her argument reminded me of Christopher Hitchens' point that a spark of religion can ignite ordinary human intolerance--say, bitter rivalries between football fans--into widespread catastrophe.
Unlike Hitchens, Manji feels that Muslims should continue to revere the Koran. But because imams and mullahs aren't stepping forward to loudly counter extremist interpretations, she believes that ordinary Muslims need to take responsibility for their own scriptures.
Here are a couple of video segments that capture the essence of the debate. (Thanks to David Gibson and Colorado Audio Visual for filming this session.) In the first clip, Jeffrey Goldberg, who expertly moderated the session, asks the panelists to explain the power dynamic in Islam, and Manji presents her philosophy in a nutshell.
In the second clip, Mogahed offers an analogy to explain why Islam itself is not the root cause of extremist violence. I should add here that Mogahed's assertions are based largely on her professional experience: she's the executive director of the Gallup Center for Muslim Studies, and the book she wrote with John Esposito--also called Who Speaks for Islam?--is based on poll data from 50,000 Muslims in 35 nations.
"Unlike evangelical Christians who take the Bible at its word, Orthodox rabbis read scripture through the long lens of scholarly tradition."
Because if there's anything evangelical Christians don't have, it's scholarly and interpretative traditions.
Also, citing work with John Esposito as implicit evidence of objectivity is a bit ... striking, I suppose, is a good word.
A workmanlike effort, Jennie, but not an especially informed observation of a discussion on religion. Revealing exposition of biases, though.
Posted by Joshua Trevino | July 2, 2008 9:24 PM