A few weeks ago, Emad Mekay wrote an article in The New York Times, stating, “Libya’s embattled leader, Col. Muammar el-Qaddafi, who crushed his country’s Islamic movement during his 41-year rule, turned in the past week to Saudi Islamic scholars in a bid for religious backing in the face of the spreading rebellion against his regime... His requests have so far been turned down.” Throughout the rest of the article Emad faults Gaddafi’s continued violence as the sole reason that he hasn’t received backing from religious leaders in the Islamic-Arab world. This analysis makes sense from the vantage point of an American op-ed columnist that sees actions as motivated primarily by visible, external causes, but I would argue post hoc ergo propter hoc. Violence has not stopped Islamic religious leaders from denouncing political leaders. In fact, some religious leaders advocate violence and justify it via Islamic concepts and textual rationalizations. Various accounts of Jihad and Intifada exhibit this.
In order to fully understand this withheld support, I would examine the Muslim notion of self, specifically the unified, un-fragmented nature of the individual within the Arab psyche. There is an emphasis on the impossibility of contradiction between belief and action. That is, if Gaddafi’s actions exhibited a certain worldview over the course of his leadership, then those actions, according to the Islamic outlook, are manifestations of what he believes. The reason that religious leadership will not lend its hand to Gaddafi is that they cannot divorce his sudden interest in their views from his past displays of disregard for religious conviction. Muslims see humans as whole entities that span every domain of life, whose acts reflect their true inner nature.
“Sheik Qarni told Al Arabiya television... ‘I refused to back him because they were killing innocent people, killing old men and peaceful demonstrators.’ ” This quote from Mekay makes sense to Western media producers and consumers as appropriate explanation for the lack of support for Gaddafi. For an analysis with an anthropological bent, that is not enough. In order to understand the true nature of the relationship between Gaddafi and those leaders refusing to support him, a reporter would need to ask the leaders who they think Gaddafi is and what they think he stands for. Appreciating how people see each other gives insight into the relationship. For the Arab, interiority, marked by action, is a motivating factor above an isolated plea for support.
The element of this relationship between the clerics and Gaddafi, beyond perceived natures, is the notion that meaningful currency in Islamic culture consists of indebtedness. Relationships are bazaars of give and take. An examination of interpersonal debt is necessary to have a truly informed approach to Middle East politics. Who owes what to whom? If, for example, Gaddafi was kind to the Muslim Brotherhood over the course of his reign, then its constituents would have to reciprocate by supporting him if he asks. He cannot simply ask for something to which he has no right. Interpersonal debt dictates much of the behavioral constructions within Arab culture. In Western construct, there are clear, overt obligations of one party to extract payment or explicit justice served for infractions. To an Arab, there is more of an unspoken understanding and awareness of a dialogue. It is not that the religious leaders cannot support Gaddafi on religious principles, but rather that he does not deserve their support because he never showed interest in those relationships.
Essentially, there is no personality vacuum. An Arab’s history and previous actions are as much a part of him as what he exhibits in the present. To accurately report on Arab dealings in the Middle East, reporters must research individuals from the very onset of their participation in interpersonal affairs and further investigate the nature of that leader’s interaction with other parties. Every story must be contextualized in a broader narrative. Violence cannot be understood as reason enough to explain anything — no one action or isolated occurrence can. Mekay’s inability to capture the true nature of Gaddafi’s dealings with the religious clerics boils down to the very disparity in understanding the nature of time. For the Western reporter, the past exists separate from the present. Arabs do not perceive temporality as that linear. A person’s past is inextricably tied to his present actions and will ultimately dictate his future. Mekay explains that religious clerics withhold their support because violence is being committed against Libyan countrymen, but the essence of the article rests in Mekay’s first paragraph, where Mekay brings to light Gaddafi’s historical lack of support for Islamic institutions. Mekay fails, however, to draw the connections and ask the questions that an anthropologically driven inquiry would value and that would result in a truly informed interpretation of events.
Aaron Applbaum is a freshman from Oakland, Calif. He can be reached at applbaum@princeton.edu.
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