The Study of Politics in Islam

simply to their knowledge of shari‘a.33 As just suggested, they were motivated by ethical sentiments, including a commitment to the inviolability (ḥurma) of all society’s members, however lowly in the eyes of the world. In other words, their education included training in ethics as well as study of shari‘a,34 attuning them to the order of Islam as a domain of righteousness and not only of power. However, in this case, religion as spiritual capital did not take a highly concentrated form as it did with Mbacké and Aḥrār. To be sure, as a leading scholar, al-Subkī enjoyed a stature that allowed him to shame those in power, but his warning to the rulers is not explicable solely in terms of his own prestige. No less important was his orientation to the ethics of Islam. He and other educated members of society were known not only for their shari‘a learning but also for a righteousness that they were to model for society as a whole, even if they were not recognized leaders of clearly defined communities with large numbers of devotees, as was the case with Mbacké and Aḥrār. In other words, the sovereignty of religion could also take shape as a more loosely operative form of spiritual capital, namely, ethical sentiments—righteousness—that figures such as al-Subkī modeled for society as a whole. In this way, such sentiments could take root in the souls of its members, including uneducated ones, orienting them to a sovereignty beyond that of the regime in power and thus informing their interactions in society, not only their prayers in the mosque.

We see this side of the twofold sovereignty of Islam not only in the age of the Mamluks, but across the history of Islam. Islam’s ethical sentiments were sovereign over society insofar as they were embodied by righteous figures, who positioned themselves in relation to rule in diverse ways. In addition to the presence in society of such righteous figures, it is important to make note of the varied manuals on ethics that were composed for the education of souls, especially society’s learned members, who were to model Islam’s ethics for their communities, allowing for a wider diffusion that worked to orient society as a whole to a sovereignty beyond that of rule and that also sensitized individuals to their role in establishing the order of Islam.35 In other words, this side of the sovereignty of Islam was enshrined in a corpus of ethical literature.

One scholar who composed literature of this type during the age of the Mamluks was Ibn Taymiyya (d. 1328). A prolific writer, he advocated for the reform of society, doing so by calling for direct engagement with the texts of revelation and reports of the companions of the prophet and their followers— the first generations of Islam known collectively as the righteous forebears (al-salaf al-ṣāliḥ). They were the moral exemplars whom the umma were to emulate for its piety, but its religious leaders, Ibn Taymiyya maintained, had become decadent, both the shari‘a establishment and the shaykhs of Sufism, Islam’s spiritual brotherhoods. In his view, the shari‘a establishment no longer operated according to the clear teachings of Islam but by juristic devices of their own making. Not only did this distortion of Islam’s norms put the religious integrity of the umma in jeopardy. These legal tricks, even if juristically sound, were ethically dubious, since they allowed the ruling elite to neglect their duties to society.36 Similarly, shaykhs, Islam’s spiritual masters, no longer worked, according to Ibn Taymiyya, to spread the ethics of Islam in society, only to bolster their own prestige by spiritual devices of their own making, which, they claimed, allowed people to become united with God. Thus, as Ibn Taymiyya saw it, the umma was in great need of reform, since it was now led by human concoctions rather than divine guidance as communicated by the texts of revelation and modeled by the righteous forebears.

Ibn Taymiyya not only called society’s religious leaders to guide the umma by the pristine message of Islam rather than their own human devices. He also called the ruling elite to govern righteously, even if commending them for their defense of Islam against infidels.37 In other words, he recognized that the state of the umma was due not only to the decadence of its religious authorities but also to the tyranny of its rulers. He therefore called rulers to put aside their worldly interests when governing society. Indeed, he argued, they should understand the work of governance in a contractual sense—as a set of mutual obligations as defined by shari‘a categories.38 Just as religious authorities were to carry out their duties according to the pristine message of Islam, so too rulers were to perform the duties that God had entrusted to them with the piety of the first Muslims, ensuring that none were treated unjustly, all given their due, thereby showing themselves to be worthy of their claim to be sovereign over the Abode of Islam.

In response to the moral crisis of his day, Ibn Taymiyya composed writings of various kinds, literature in which he sought to give life to what he saw as a theologically sound vision of the umma, one led by the fear of God rather than the human devices that were presented as religiously authoritative but that served only to disguise tyranny in a false version of Islam. Among his writings is a treatise on ethics, “The Actions of Hearts” (a‘māl al-qulūb),39 which calls for a commitment to righteousness across all sectors of society. Islam, then, is not just a set of rulings and practices, which can be easily manipulated for worldly interests, as noted above. It is, he argues, ultimately based on love for God. All are obliged to love God, elites and commoners alike, and they are to show this love by truly worshipping God, and true worship of God, based on a perfect love for God, produces a commitment to righteousness (birr ), that is, a commitment to divine guidance, as known from the pristine message of Islam, rather than to one’s own worldly interests, which only results in the spread of tyranny in society. This treatise on the inner character of Muslims, even if addressed to society’s literate members, especially but not only its religious leaders, seems to have had implication for society as a whole. Its call to obey God by inner conviction would seem to suggests that the umma might be “self-governing,” not in the sense of being free to act as one pleases, but of being personally responsible for the order of Islam and no longer subservient to the devices of those who pretended to represent it.

Ibn Taymiyya seems, then, to have recognized that the umma as a whole has a share in the sovereignty of Islam by virtue of its ethical sentiments. He was by no means calling for regime change or the toppling of the religious hierarchy, only reform. His was by no means a democratic vision. He maintained—like countless others who wrote manuals on ethics, even if not as wholly focused on the righteous forebears as his—that the true sovereign over the umma was the divine word. As such, sovereignty was not the privilege of any one group but a common struggle. One was made righteous by receiving the ethics of Islam into one’s soul, and such righteousness in society indicated that the divine word was truly its sovereign. All were to be righteous. The society’s elites had their role to play, but so too did the commoners. What was to unite them as a single umma was a common devotion to the divine word as its unrivaled sovereign. In short, the umma as a whole owed its devotion to God, not to human authorities.

Ibn Taymiyya’s writings on ethics were part of a major genre of literature in Islam that continues today.40 Manuals on ethics, while taking different approaches, nevertheless all agreed on the need for the umma to be educated in righteousness. Given the provocative tone of Ibn Taymiyya’s writings, his vision of the umma did not take hold, even if it caused a stir in his day,41 but it does raise questions, still at play in the umma today, about the sovereignty of Islam in terms of the loyalty of the heart, which should be wholly directed to God. As he argued, the sovereignty of Islam, even when one is a powerful sultan, a high-ranking scholar, or a saintly master, is predicated on devotion to the divine word above all, and one is to demonstrate this love through obedience to the message of Islam in its pristine form and not by setting oneself up as a human lord over others. In this sense, the sovereignty of Islam is a call for all ranks in the umma to become enamored by the divine word and to enact the order of Islam accordingly.42

The age of the Mamluks offers a glimpse into the way in which the sovereignty of Islam operates by a complex logic. Its varied forms do not exist in separate spheres but interact in diverse fashion in a single space, society, which has its coherency from God. To be sure, there is room for shortcomings. Relatively few seek a utopia. What is demanded is sufficient righteousness, demonstrating that the umma has not strayed from the straight path. However, the age of the Mamluks had its share of plagues and famines that made it seem God no longer found favor in the umma. Were calamities an expression of God’s wrath—divine signs that society was to repent of its waywardness? In addition, the extreme corruption of the ruling elite, especially but not only at times when the populace had trouble meeting its basic needs, could provoke public riots—and popular outrage at notoriously crooked officials.43 In short, emotionality of a kind, including divine wrath and public outrage, also had a role in determining the order of Islam. The share of emotionality in the sovereignty of Islam is a story waiting to be told. Chronicles of the period speak of the anger of the sultan, which was commonly expressed at breaches in the governmental order, including threats to his rule. In some sense, the sultan’s anger was seen as a reflection of God’s. Similarly, literature of the period that recounts the lives of religious scholars occasionally speaks of their anger, which was commonly expressed at breaches in the moral order or at heretical statements. Both rulers and scholars, each with a share in the sovereignty of Islam, could represent the wrath of God at breaches in the order of Islam. In contrast, the anger of the populace was perceived to be a destructive force. To be sure, mobs can wreak havoc on society, even when their cause is just, but the depiction of public riots in the sources seems to suggest moments of stasis when it is no longer clear whether those