Breaking the closed circle
There is a pressing need for self-criticism in Arab societies, Hala Mustafa* argues, drawing particular attention to political Islam
How easy it is to criticise others, and how difficult it is to turn the same critical eye on oneself. This painful truth applies to nations and societies as much as it applies to individuals. If we fail in something, not many of us are disposed to look inward, after which our soul can heal and grow strong once more. Most of us prefer to blame the failure on others, rather than courageously confronting ourselves. Running away is easier, but by doing so the crisis can only grow, as one moves in a closed circle, much like the Greek myth of Sisyphus, the man who was sentenced by the gods for all eternity to push a stone up to the summit of a mountain, only to have it roll down once more. The natural rhythm of life ceased, as Sisyphus saw only a narrow emptiness that, as much as it may have appeared to be moving, was not. No matter how many years pass, Sisyphus never left his place.
This introduction is not meant to inspire pessimism about the current situation in the Arab world, however much it appears to be moving in that same Sisyphean closed circle of emptiness, particularly on the intellectual and cultural fronts, which in turn shape our social, economic, scientific, and productive activities. Rather, it is meant to inspire us to take a critical look at ourselves, a pressing need given the challenges facing Arab societies. The dramatic changes wrought by the war in Iraq are neither the first nor the last of these challenges. For more than two centuries the question of an Arab renaissance has remained on the agenda, often discussed as so many crises: the crisis of rebirth, the crisis of modernity, the crisis of development, the crisis of enlightenment, the crisis of freedom, the crisis of foreign encounters. More recently, the crisis has cloaked itself in dichotomies: the contemporary and the authentic, cultural heritage and modernity, self and other, particular and global, local in the face of a cultural invasion, and so on.
These dichotomies ultimately reinforced a logic that seeks to maintain both sides of the equation simultaneously. At best, it reinforces the logic of non-choice. With the passage of time, these dichotomies acquired the status of sacred taboos that should not be touched, and unwise is he who attempts to do so. Anyone that questions these taboos is seen as promoting a foreign point of view, having forsaken his heritage -- in a word, Westernised. Since such arbitrary rules impinge on freedom of opinion, transgressing on the right of the younger generation to have its own views, it is necessary to break this closed intellectual system. This is not to belittle the value of the efforts and contributions that Arab societies have made over many years, but for objective reasons, it has perhaps become necessary to reject them. The language of numbers, which has no intellectual, ideological, or political prejudices, does not reveal any great recent achievements in the Arab world, whether in human development, civil and personal rights, education, or the position of women. The issue, however, is not a question of one specific problem, but the sum total of contemporary Arab reality.
On the political front, no objective observer can ignore the impact of the most serious phenomenon seen in the region in modern history: extremist religious political groups. This phenomenon casts a long shadow on the future of Arab societies and their democratic, cultural, and social development. Though some may protest that these groups have contributed to the armed resistance against occupying powers, that should not lead us to ignore the foundations upon which their politics are based, which they ultimately aspire to impose on society. Sooner or later, they seek not only to withdraw the right to differ, but the right of freedom itself. The visions of the majority of these groups were formulated within a closed ideological system, which forms their only authoritative framework.
For them, the idea of a renaissance is not a plan for the future, but more of a retrogressive movement that seeks to summon a model from the distant past -- a model that perhaps no longer has the elements necessary to foster a renaissance. The movement proceeds from a basic premise: denying and defeating the other is a prerequisite for the revival and establishment of its own platform. In general, the other here is the West, with its civilisation, values, culture, and the cultural imprint it has made on other societies.
Although hostility to the West is seen in its most extreme form among Islamist groups, it also characterised the important political and intellectual currents prevalent in the region for many years, particularly in the post- independence period. In one form or another, these currents were all part of Arab nationalist thought. In other words, this perception of the West has existed long enough to allow it to take root in Arab political culture, particularly following the assumption of power by revolutionary movements in several Arab countries. The Iraqi Ba'ath Party is perhaps the most striking example in this respect.
Because these revolutionary movements used the struggle against colonialism as the point of departure for their political ideology, their efforts were focussed on confronting the outside world, or "the enemy". These movements were populist in nature; that is, they attempted to unite the nation behind one objective without taking into consideration differences in opinions. This tendency automatically impinges on internal development and modernisation, conflicting with the requirements for pluralistic democracy and political freedom. Indeed, it led to the emergence of political regimes that acquire their popularity by propagating extremist slogans about the need to confront "foreign powers". It is thus not surprising that the revolutionary movements that swept the region would lack the ability to maintain the momentum needed to renew their societies from within, unable to uphold humanistic values and principles that could thrive after the revolutionary moment ended. This stands in stark contrast to the great humanistic revolutions like the French Revolution, whose fundamental principles of liberté, fraternité, and egalité acted as a beacon for the entire world.
Extremist religious movements inherited this emphasis on confronting external enemies from nationalist revolutionary movements, integrating it into their own politics that tend to restrict civil and individual freedoms.
Given these considerations, we in the Arab world need to engage in critical self- examination to break the circle of emptiness and truly step into the 21st century, free from the perpetual state of crisis that we have lived for decades.
Arab society has a pressing need to return to the enterprise of comprehensive modernisation, seriously and truly, not through sloganeering, but leaving aside conspiracy theories and confrontations with external enemies, which, in any case, cannot succeed given the state of weakness and cultural deterioration. The issue of individual freedom -- that is, human development -- must be at the heart of the modernising enterprise. The individual is the centre of any social resurgence and individual freedoms are at the heart of democracy. Democracy is not merely about safeguarding constitutional and legal rights or establishing political institutions; above all, it is about individuals who believe in a certain culture and values, which are then reflected in their political behaviour, allowing the existence of true pluralism. Arab culture still lacks many of the liberal values that shore up true democracy, which places emphasis on the value of the individual and guarantees civil and personal freedoms. Without these, we can talk about no other rights.
Perhaps we also need to approach our long- standing, complex problems with more bravery and honesty. No discussion of modernisation, freedom, and reform can be complete as long as we do not examine the political use of religion, which has come to represent its own cultural and political phenomenon. Over the past few decades, politicising religion has become the easy way out, the alternative to boldly confronting the challenges facing Arab societies, both at home and abroad. Some political regimes -- particularly those that have no internal support that would give them true legitimacy -- have taken refuge in religious sloganeering to win public support, however frail. The Iraqi Ba'ath regime was one example. Despite its well-known ideological orientation, it used religious slogans liberally, during the invasion of Kuwait and in the crisis preceding the regime's collapse.
Islamist opposition forces that present themselves as an alternative to present regimes use religion in another way, putting forth the slogan "Islam is the solution" without necessarily proposing any effective platform to treat society's real problems. They merely focus on the moral nature of their politics, which often ends up being nothing more than an excuse to restrict an individuals' civil rights.
In both cases, external enemies rather than a platform of self-renewal are the common ground that unite these many disparate groups, even those that appear to be at odds with one another. Can we re-read our current reality and examine ourselves? Or shall we, like Sisyphus, continue to push stones to no avail?
* The writer is editor-in-chief of the quarterly journal Al-Demoqrateya (Democracy) issued by Al-Ahram.
