There’s been much talk concerning the fear of Islamic “invasion” of the West. Is the Muslim goal to restore the caliphate?
A small minority of extremists cherish the notion of a restored caliphate. But such a scenario presupposes several conditions that one looks for in vain in the history of Is-lamic political regimes. First, the caliphate of nostalgia is supposed to have been a truly global centralized rule in which the “commander of the faithful” exacted the fealty of Muslims everywhere. In fact, at no time during the history of the caliphate did it extend across the full expanse of territories in which Islam would eventually become a dominant presence or majority faith community. At its broadest extent, the caliphate, by any account a vast project, stretched from Spain to Northwest India. However, it never became established firmly in Iberia, and within half a century after the Abbasid dynasty had founded its new capital of Baghdad in 762, the fabric of the caliphate began to unravel from the edges. By the early ninth century, restive provinces broke off as practically independent amirates; by the mid-tenth century, a Shi’i faction had become the power behind the throne in Baghdad; a century later, the Seljuk Turks had virtually neutered the caliphate by establishing the sultanate as the de facto parallel institution with all the real power.
Were there “rival caliphates” elsewhere in Islamdom?
By the tenth and eleventh centuries, rival caliphates were well established in Spain and Egypt. In other words, the political map of Islamdom quickly took on the look of a crazy quilt, and the notion of a resurrected global Muslim rule is in reality a dream that has never come true as the people who fantasize about it might imagine. By the time the Ottoman dynasty incorporated the great middle swath of what had been the Byzantine Empire, even that great power included only part of North Africa and went no further east than Iraq. In addition, the kind of caliphate whose resurrection radical/puritanic/extremist groups envision, is not the extended dominion represented for several generations by the Umayyad and Abbasid dynasties. They look back instead to the pristine days of the Prophet and his four immediate successors in Medina, the Rightly Guided caliphs. They typically regard the subsequent dynastic regimes with their pretensions to royalty as betrayals of the Prophetic age. The problem here is that the Rightly Guided caliphs ruled a much reduced realm even at its greatest extent.
What other factors militate against a revived caliphate?
The idea of the caliphate presupposes the seamless integration—indeed, the simple identity of political and religious institutions. The historical reality is that the majority of the many political regimes under Islamic auspices across the globe over the course of more than a millennium actually represent a wide variety of blends and interrelationships of political and religious institutions. Take early modern Iran, for example. In 1500, Shi’i Islam was proclaimed the “state” creed by the ascendant Safavid dynasty. For most of the subsequent five hundred years, the royal and religious establishments each remained distinct. Religious officialdom played the role of a loyal opposition for the most part, and at no time did religious scholars mount a serious campaign to exercise actual political rule. Not until the Iranian Islamic Revolution in 1979 did Khomeini’s radical reinterpretation of Iranian Shi’i traditions of political theology call for direct religious establishment control over political institutions.
Have rulers in states/regions with predominantly Muslim populations engaged or expressed overtly religious values to galvanize popular support?
No ruler wants to risk loss of authority by undercutting the religious legitimation upon which rule depends. But powerful religious figures and movements have often tugged at the allegiance of Muslims in many cultures, thus increasing the likelihood of divided loyalties among a ruler’s subjects. Efforts to use such forces to advantage have often materialized in royal support for the institutions that serve the followers of charismatic religious leaders. From Morocco to Indonesia, enormous sums of money have gone into the endowment, building or renovation, and general financial support of holy places associated with holy persons. Some tomb-shrines have become the centers of entire towns. Those of Mulay Idris I (d. c. 793) on Mount Serhun near Fez, Morocco, and of Mulay Idris II (d. 828) in Fez are two such focal points. For centuries Moroccan governments have paid official attention to the maintenance of these holy sites, for devotion to these two Friends of God and descendants of Muhammad runs too deep among the people to ignore.
Given recent upheavals across the Arab Middle East and North Africa, especially the resurgence of al-Qaeda and related groups, what are the chances that those striving to resurrect the caliphate will threaten global stability and overrun the “Islamic World”?
Here, as always, historical perspective is essential. First, of the scores of proclaimed caliphates that various groups have announced over the past five hundred years, virtually none have attained greater than regional success and/or remained significantly influential for more than a generation or two. Second, in more recent memory and back as far as 1980, a group such as the Taliban proudly conferred on their leader, Mulla Omar, the name “Commander of the Faithful,” a primary historical title of the caliph. No matter how loudly they shout their assumed prerogatives, the Taliban will likely remain a threat to regional stability in South Asia and not far beyond. Third, even though groups such as the “Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant/Syria” (ISIL/S) boldly advertise their establishment of a “caliphate” for which they claim sovereignty from the Mediterranean to Iran (with designs well beyond that, presumably), their recent alarming successes depend heavily on political and social factors that can still be reversed.
While “ISIL” might (like earlier temporarily successful attempts to reestablish a caliphate) manage to consolidate some territory and advertise its success in attempts to recruit young fighters, there are hundreds of millions of Muslims from Morocco to Malaysia who want nothing to do with such a development and who are horrified at ISIL’s ideology and savagery. Finally, many major Muslim religious and legal scholars from the most respected and prestigious Islamic institutions have issued unmistakable denunciations of these extremists, their pretensions, and their methods as contrary to Islamic law’s restrictions on the conduct of war and in no way representing Islam’s deepest values. ISIL, they insist, has no right to use the term “Islamic” in its title.
Are there other examples of rulers promoting religious values by promoting popular devotion and “shrines”?
Further to the east is an instructive example of a different sort of shrine associated with the legitimation of an Islamic ruling dynasty, the Timurid (referring to “descendants Timur Lang, aka Tamerlane). In Iran and central Asia, rulers funded architectural projects as part of their programs of charitable works that would demonstrate their own genuine Islamic values. But this was not purely for show and often represents deep religious commitment on the part of these princely patrons. Ruling class figures were often genuinely attached to the teachings and legacy of venerable spiritual teachers. Timur Lang, for example, was so taken with the spirit of the already long-deceased Shaykh Ahmad Yasawi (d. 1166) that he undertook a major architectural project to honor the shaykh. In 1397 he built a glorious new tomb at the site of the original grave. Timur became personally involved in the project, even to stipulating the central dome’s height of 126 feet. Highly visible near an oasis along a pilgrimage and caravan road, this splendid work was a statement of Timur’s devotion as well as a monument to the shaykh.
Is such “devotion” not really a cover for political motives—more akin to currying favor among the wider population of believers?
Political motives do not necessarily rule out genuine devotion, though they may indeed cast a shadow of doubt on the sincerity of a ruler’s claim of religious motivation. Many Ottoman Sultans well into modern times engaged in the renovation of shrines and tombs, with credible evidence of authentic piety. In fact, even during times when rulers have felt the need to officially suppress overt veneration of Friends of God and force devotees to go underground, those very authorities themselves may have continued to be devotees. For example, Jalal ad-Din Rumi’s (d. 1273) tomb in Konya was originally built under a Saljuqid ruler, a predecessor dynasty to the Ottomans. But under Sulayman’s rule, the tomb, already a popular place of pilgrimage for generations, was