by Hilal Ahmed
If the purpose of dawat is to transform a person intellectually, what are the possibilities of this kind of intellectual change of heart? Khan gives a very intriguing reply. He argues that modern rationality has become a way of life in the contemporary world. He recognizes the presence of a number of rational truth-seekers, who are exploring all sorts of possibilities to search for appropriate and rational solutions to the challenges posed by modern life. Khan says that this intellectual revolution of our times has favoured Islam because ‘all other religions have been subjected to human interpolation and have been rendered historically unauthentic [. . .] Islam enjoys the exceptional position of having the authentic version of the revealed religion’.22 In his opinion, therefore, there is a need to convert this rational search for truth into consciousness, as ‘all the people of the present day have potentially become Muslims’ and, therefore, ‘the need of the hour is to do da’wa work [. . .] so that this potential may be turned into a reality.’23
The ‘conducive environment’, which Maududi talks of in his 1947 speech, is interpreted rather differently by Khan. He envisages an environment of rationality and identifies ‘potential Muslims’ in this rational world. Khan seems to suggest that conversion in a given and formal sense of the term disrupts the argument for propagation of Islam as dawat—primarily because conversion is not an event or a cause of rupture but a continuing quest for rationality. He recognizes Muslims as dayee (those who have been given the responsibility to invite others to Allah and the truth), non-Muslims as mad’u (those who are called to by Muslims). Khan argues that in their capacity as dayees, Muslims have to tolerate the oppression and injustice of other nations. In his opinion, without this tolerance, ‘that atmosphere cannot be produced which is required for the effective performance of da’wa’.24 From our point of view, this evocation of the rational spirit of people of all faiths, in Khan’s project of dawat, represents a clear adherence to the constitutional expression of the freedom of religion, in which conversion is always understood as a rational choice.
Dawat-e-Islam: Faith and/or a right
A very different version of Dawat-e-Islam is offered by Maulana Ali Mian Nadwi. His dawat project is more concerned with specificity of particular social and political context and the purity of argument.25 He argues that the methods of inviting people towards the message of Allah are contingent upon the sociocultural formation of society. Therefore, there are no ‘fixed rules and regulations’ for Dawat-e-Islam.26 This context-sensitive mode of Dawat-e-Islam is supplemented by two other necessary components—linguistic clarity and purity of intention. Nadwi writes, ‘Linguistic competence is of the utmost importance for the purpose of da’wa [. . .] And the most important ingredient is sincerity and an earnest urge to persuade others.’27
Nadwi also talk about the strength of Dawat-e-Islam. In his opinion, ‘The powerful nations like USA or Soviet Russia will never be able to win the hearts of people as Islam has won them. The call of true Islamic faith which draws hearts of Muslims unfailingly is like a magnet that pulls iron chips towards it. Nothing in the world but faith (iman) has such a power.’28 Nadwi, however, does not elaborate on the crucial relationship between the propagation of Islamic ideas and the conversion of non-Muslims as the final outcome, especially in the Indian context. To understand this slight vagueness in Nadwi’s explanation, we have to pay attention to his understanding of politics.
It is important to remember that despite his initial critique of politics, Nadwi emerged as a key figure in the debates on Muslim personal law and, later, on the Babri Masjid–Ram temple dispute.29 His take on overtly political issues helps him in offering a very clear perspective on the expected role of the state, especially with regard to religious and cultural minorities. Nadwi asserts, ‘If minorities exist in the country, then safeguarding and keeping secure their religions, their places of worship, their personal laws and [. . .] language [. . .] is necessary [. . .] This is the primary duty of every government and no government [. . .] deserves to be called a government [. . .] if it cannot provide it.’30 This important observation not only demonstrates Nadwi’s political activism but also underlines his understanding of Dawat-e-Islam in a secular–constitutional context.
In his book Muslims in India (1960/1976), Nadwi argues that Islam did not come to India to destroy Hinduism. In contrast, Muslim preachers and saints brought Islam with the message of love. He claims that Muslims recognized India as their motherland and established great empires.31 This Muslim contribution played a pivotal role in the cultural advancement of Indian civilization. He writes:
They (Muslims) brought with them to India a new, practical and highly rationalistic religion, mature knowledge, a progressive culture and an evolved civilization which included within it all that was best in the cultural stock of many nations—it represented a synthesis of the natural wholesomeness of the Arab disposition.32
According to Nadwi, Muslims rediscovered the ancient sciences and philosophy of India and introduced it to the wider world. On the basis of this historical contribution of Islam, Nadwi proposes a slightly milder critique of the state. Describing the unjust and partial system of education, the decline of Urdu and other socio-economic issues related to Indian Muslims, Nadwi questioned state policies. He asserts: ‘Muslims are not only citizens of an equal status with anybody in India; they are among its chief builders and architects, and hold [a] position second to none among the people of the world for selfless service to the motherland.’33
This historically embedded argument introduces us to a rather nuanced meaning of Islamic dawat. Nadwi’s framework is not only about preparing Muslims to introduce Islam to non-Muslims but also about making them aware of their constitutionally granted rights. He traces compatibility between Islamic principles and democratic norms to conceptualize the Muslims of India as an identifiable minority community—which has a distinct culture and religion. The purpose of dawat, in this case, is to spread the message of this distinctiveness to Muslims, non-Muslims and, above all, to the state.34
Dawat as provocation
Zakir Naik’s dawat project is new in two senses: it is new because it began only in the 1990s and somehow made him one of the most visible Muslim religious faces—online and offline! It is also new because unlike other postcolonial Sunni da’wa movements, Naik makes a direct appeal to evoke the Quran and Hadith for inviting, primarily, the non-Muslims. For him, ‘Da’wah means a “call” or “invitation” [. . .] to invite non-Muslims to Islam as well as Muslims to the true understanding and practice of Islam.’35 In this sense, Naik is critical of the reformist work of the Tablighi Jamaat kind. He says, ‘Many Muslims [. . .] doing islaah (reform) have completely ignored Da’wah [. . .] Therefore, it is [. . .] our responsibility to concentrate on Da’wah in order to fill this vacuum.’36
Two important features of this direct dawat project are relevant—Naik’s provocative rejection of other religious traditions and his adherence to original sources to find out the true meanings of Islam. Replying to a question regarding the use of term ‘kafir’ for non-Muslims, Naik says: ‘Kafir is derived from the word kufr, which means one who conceals [. . .] the truth of Islam [. . .] If any non-Muslim considers the word kafir as an abuse, he may choose to accept Islam and then we will stop referring to him [as] a kafir.’ Similarly, when he is asked about the freedom of religion in Islamic regimes, he argues that since Islam is the only true religion, and Muslims believe in it, the propagation of other religions is not permissible in an Islamic country. By the same logic, Naik also supports the entry restriction imposed on non-Muslims in the cities of Mecca and Medina. He says, ‘The primary condition required for any human being to enter Makkah or Medina is to say [. . .] there is no God but Allah and Muhammad (PBUH) is his messenger.’37
The ‘go back to the original’ is the second aspect of his dawat project. Naik claims that the most appropriate method of understanding Islam is to ‘understand the authentic sources of Islam—the Qur’an and the authent
ic hadith’. In his opinion, the Quran, being the words of Allah, could only be decoded through the sayings of Prophet Muhammad because it was revealed to him. Evoking this text-centric approach, Naik seems to rule out all possibility of human intervention in the divinity of Islam. For him, the words of Allah as well as the meanings given to these words by the Prophet are fixed, objective, unbiased and, above all, rational.
This strict adherence to Quranic textuality helps Naik gain legitimacy for his explanations. He does not recognize the Hindu gods Rama and Krishna as prophets of Allah as he does not find their names in the Quran and the Hadith; he opposes customary practices such as wearing a mangalsutra by Muslim women (a thread worn by married women, mainly Hindus in India) because he finds it offensive to the Islamic dress code; he does not approve of music because there is no mention of it in the texts.
As a product of new media—the TV, the Internet and the mobile phone—Naik recognizes a new religious audience, namely, migrated Muslim communities living in the West and the Middle East, in Asia and the generations of South Asian Muslims whose religiosity does not disapprove of television and the Internet. These communities, which experience very different trajectories of modern life, actually become the inseparable components of what might be called an online umma (community). From our point of view, the structure of this online umma is very significant—it is not merely constituted at a point when Naik delivers his speeches in front of a large congregation; rather, it is also formed, in fact, more powerfully, when the images of this Islamic public attending Naik’s programmes are disseminated through the Internet and mobile apps. Naik, in this sense, addresses a community that follows his image—that of a skull-capped (this cap has become a Muslim cap in recent years!), well-clad (he always wears official suits), English-educated Muslim doctor, who relies primarily on his exceptional memory and scientific knowledge!
Naik’s Dawat-e-Islam project is criticized for being highly provocative. It is described as ‘tempered jihad’ because of its seemingly sympathetic attitude toward Islamic fundamentalism. Naik, interestingly, does not find this allegation problematic. Instead, he argues, ‘A fundamentalist is a person who follows and adheres to the doctrine or theory he is following.’38 He describes himself as well as all practising Muslims as fundamentalist! The same logic is evoked to justify terrorism. Naik argues that ‘a true Muslim should be a terrorist to selective people, i.e., anti-social elements, and not to the common innocent people.’39 These refined commonsense explanations somehow contribute to Naik’s image of a prominent Muslim figure, who is usually found in the top ranks of various lists of ‘influential individuals.’
Naik’s deviation from the dominant postcolonial Dawat-e-Islam movements is not surprising. His ideas do not stem from the minority rights-centric Indian discourse of law. As a result, the thin dividing line between propagation and conversion is clearly disregarded by him to offer rather polemical, straight and ready-to-use Islamic responses. This straightforwardness, however, does not work in recent years, when Naik’s NGO and TV channels have been closed by the government and access to his website restricted. Responding to these actions, Naik, probably for the first time, evokes the legal–constitutional discourse. He says:
The system and agencies have been used to suit a pre-meditated result set by the government of India, a government that took an oath to uphold the Indian Constitution, the same Constitution that allows me the freedom to profess, practise, and propagate my religion. Let us not be gullible to think this was just an attack on me. It is an attack on whom I represent, the Indian Muslims. It is an attack on peace, democracy and justice [. . .] India is my home, my roots, and I will fight this ban come what may.40
A legalized Islam?
Our discussion shows that law and constitutional values function as influential factors that determine the various representations of Islam as a religion in India. However, this explicit adherence to constitutionalism by Islamic religious scholars should not merely be read as a success story of an India-specific secularism. Scholars like Ali Mian Nadwi and Wahiduddin Khan do not simply celebrate the discourse of minority rights; instead, they engage with it, interpret it and offer new and creative articulations of Dawat-e-Islam. This acceptability of secular law does not prevent them from speaking of the supremacy of Islam as a religion in India, of the contributions of Muslims in the past and, above all, from envisaging a world where Islam ultimately rules.
Our discussion shows that Tablighi Jamaat’s expressed commitment to apolitical dawat of Islam functions within the broad framework of the law. The agenda of preparing Muslims for deen never poses any challenge to secular law and allows the Jamaat to operate in a closed sphere of religion. JIH, on the contrary, seems to identify the debate on ‘propagation versus conversion’ as a vantage point to reinterpret the project of dawat. This strategy has helped them to disseminate their version of Islam in postcolonial India. Similarly, Wahiduddin Khan’s emphasis on modern rationality offers him an opportunity to represent dawat as a rational interpretation of Islam, which he finds compatible with Indian secularism. For Ali Mian, law and secularism have been deeply ingrained in the social values of Muslims. He argues that reasserting Islamic sovereignty in the postcolonial period is a legitimate constitutional right. Zakir Naik is the only Islamic preacher who frequently crosses the propagation versus conversion line. His image-centric identity makes it possible for him to talk of the conversion of non-Muslims more directly on TV shows. However, this attitude changes radically when Naik’s conversion-centric Dawat-e-Islam is interrogated by Indian authorities. Naik, like other postcolonial Indian Islamic scholars, evokes the discourse of minority rights and asserts his Indian identity to justify his Islamic adherence.
This brings us to the main argument of this chapter. I argue that postcolonial Islamic discourse in India is highly multilayered. It functions like a pendulum. The ideal textual interpretations of Islam and the concept of Islamic supremacy are at one extreme end of the pendulum’s swing, while the legal–constitutional considerations and assertion of minority rights are at the other end.
4
Why Does Hindutva Need Muslims?
Why Muslims?
Mohan Bhagwat, the Sarsanghchalak of the RSS, delivered a series of lectures on the ideas and ideology of the RSS in September 2018. In an attempt to offer an acceptable and inclusive meaning of the term ‘Hindutva’, Bhagwat makes the following observations:
That very set of values are christened as Hindutva. It stands for unity in diversity, reconciliation, sacrifice, temperance, gratitude. The truth that lies at its crux is discovered here, in our realm.1
[. . .]
The collective notion of values belonging to the religions that are sprung from the entirety, that is India, is known as Hindutva [. . .] Therefore, the idea which we call as Hindutva is synonymous with the notion of patriotism, the other constituent of it, which is born out of the culture of that very precept of values. This is the mark of India. And, India belongs to that.2
[. . .]
This ideology is our continuum, which [the] world recognizes as Hindutva. We, therefore, claim that ours is a Hindu Nation.3
[. . .]
According to us, Hindutva has three basics. Patriotism, glory of our forebears, and culture.4
[. . .]
It can never be construed [as] the undesirability of Muslims in its ambit. If ever it is claimed that it does not desire Muslims in its ambit, that day it will die down as Hindutva.5
Bhagwat was not reading from a written text (the transcriptions of the speeches were later uploaded on the RSS website). These points came out as ‘references’ in his long speeches. Although one may find them scattered, repetitive and unrelated, these observations could be systematized to find out a workable conceptualization of what Bhagwat calls Hindutva.
He seems to suggest:
(a) India-specific values: There are five core values (unity in diversity, coordination, sacrifice, tolerance, thankfulness), whic
h are common to all those sects and sub-sects which originated in India.
(b) India means territory: India can only be understood as a geographic territory. Therefore, only those ideas and sects which have emerged within these geographic boundaries may justifiably be described as Indian sects.
(c) Naming: Since the ideology of all ‘Indian’ sects is known as Hindutva throughout the world, it is reasonable to identify India as a Hindu Rashtra.
(d) Core beliefs: Hindutva has three foundational beliefs—patriotism, ancestral pride and culture. Therefore, it is appropriate to expect everyone who lives in India to submit to these core values.
(e) Muslims: Muslims are important for the survival of Hindutva.
On the third day of the programme, Bhagwat elaborated his ideas during the question–answer sessions and provided a sequence to his thoughts. (Incidentally, it was not an unusual interactive session. The invited audience submitted written questions and Bhagwat responded to them thematically!) Replying to a set of questions related to the RSS’s position on minorities and the growing isolation of Muslims, he said:
किस आधार पर हम आपको अपना नहीं माने वह पंथ संप्रदाय नहीं है भाषा नहीं है जाति नहीं है कुछ नहीं है । मातृभूमि, संस्कृति, पूर्वज ये है । उन पर हम जोर देते हैं । उसको हम अपनी राष्ट्रीयता के घटक मानते हैं ।6
This statement makes it clear that Bhagwat’s so-called inclusive Hindutva, which has also been seen as a revisionist version of the RSS, does not deviate from the old language of ‘you Muslims and we Hindus’. He seems to employ the three core beliefs of his version of Hindutva to remind Muslims that they have to come forward and prove their nationalism.