Dogma and purity v worldly politics

Forward to the past

TO SELL an idea it helps to keep it simple. This explains the appeal of Salafism, an increasingly wide, bold-coloured stripe on the very broad spectrum of modern Islamism. Its most garish manifestation has been painted in blood by the jihadist brand of Salafists, most notoriously by the holy terrorists of al-Qaeda. The Taliban in Afghanistan and Pakistan have deep Salafist roots, as do the rowdy gangs in Tunisia that have lately trashed bars, cinemas and the American embassy. Yet while Saudi Arabia’s dour Salafist version of Islam, Wahhabism, shuns political life and abhors democracy, the Salafists’ Nour Party in Egypt has played politics eagerly and effectively, capturing a quarter of the votes in last year’s general elections.

What links these groups is a belief that Islam has been weakened by centuries of accumulated intellectual baggage. Muslims should dump most of it, the Salafists say, and revert to the ways of their salaf, or forebears. Specifically, they should rigidly follow the model provided by the Prophet Muhammad himself, as recorded in his actions and sayings (around 5,000 of which are generally credited as authentic and unique), as well as by the first three generations of his followers.

In some matters this makes life easy. One should obviously eat with the right hand only, as Muhammad reportedly did. Men should grow beards. Women should cover up. And one should abhor such “innovations” in Islam as Shiism and also Sufism, with—in Salafist eyes—its silly rituals and unhealthy adulation of sainted leaders. Yet choosing which 1,400-year-old saying to apply, or which venerable act to follow, is not always easy. This is particularly so when it comes to the ever-changing intricacies of politics.

For instance, whereas one of al-Qaeda’s better-known tactics has been suicide-attacks, plenty of Salafist scholars condemn the act of suicide itself as an abomination. Some rejected the uprisings that overthrew the “infidel” rulers of Tunisia and Egypt, just because they were sparked by the suicide of Muhammad Bouazizi, a Tunisian fruit vendor. Other Salafist preachers agreed with Saudi Wahhabists that it is a sin to go against the wishes of any ruler. But more pragmatic Salafists embraced the Arab spring as a Godgiven opportunity.

The experience of Egypt’s Nour Party is telling. Though educated, city-dwelling Egyptians were shocked by the success of a party founded only last year, Nour has built on a tradition of Salafist sermonising and mosque-building that goes back a century. Long popular among the poor for their uncompromising views, Salafist preachers had lately been boosted by a surge in private cash from the Gulf. This financed not only fancy websites and some two dozen satellite TV channels, but also a network of charities rivalling that of the milder-mannered Muslim Brotherhood.

Adjusting to the rough and tumble of politics has not been easy. The spotlight of publicity has proven harsh: earlier this year a newly elected Salafist MP was caught in flagrante fondling a young lady in a parked car; another who claimed that his bruised face was the result of a politically motivated assault turned out to have had a nose job. Hardest of all has been the predictable tension between Nour’s roots in preaching the Salafist “call”, with its emphasis on purity and authenticity, and the practical demands of political tactics.

Many party people balked when its leaders, reckoning Nour would win more influence, endorsed a relatively liberal Islamist candidate in Egypt’s presidential elections earlier this year. Instead they backed a populist Salafist, Hazem Abu Ismail, who was dismissed by party elders as a loose cannon.

Nour’s members also differ on how to handle the Muslim Brotherhood. The fellow-Islamist group is Egypt’s strongest political force, and many Brothers have Salafist leanings. But its members are sworn to exalt strict internal Brotherhood discipline over religious dogma. One Salafist preacher, Sheikh Muhammad Said Raslan, has condemned the Brothers as “the greatest deception in the name of religion that this country has ever faced.”

Yet even as some Salafists have threatened an armed revolt in case the constitution currently being drafted, largely under Brotherhood influence, proves insufficiently “Islamic”, the Nour Party also speaks of teaming up with the Brothers against secular parties in Egypt’s upcoming parliamentary elections.

Differences between the party’s more dynamic political wing and its mosque-bound base recently erupted in an effort to unseat Nour’s politically astute party leader, Emad Abdel Ghafour. The two sides have now agreed to put off their struggle until after the elections, but tensions are likely to bubble up again.

It is not that the religious sheikhs are calling for a retreat to the preaching role, says Stephane Lacroix, a French scholar of modern Islamism who sees the Nour Party as relatively mature compared to Salafist movements elsewhere. Hotter-headed groups in countries such as Mali, Nigeria and Somalia, showing too much zeal with hand-chopping and music bans in the name of “authentic” sharia, have ended up alienating the people they intended to rule. In Egypt “they have moved into politics for good”, says Mr Lacroix, “but are not yet quite ready to play by rules of political logic that are different from doctrinal logic.” Perhaps Egyptians, by the time they next vote, may notice that mixing religion and politics is not so easy after all.