Psychologies Magazine, November 2001 —
Since 9/11, the specter of religious fanaticism has haunted minds, and many wonder if violence is intrinsic to Islam. Drawing not only on history, but also on verses from the Quran, some claim that this religion is inherently fanatical and warlike. To deny this, they say, would be as grave an error as the past blindness of Westerners to communism or Nazism. Following my last column, I received several emails from readers of “Psychologies” expressing this view. I reiterate here very clearly: I do not subscribe to this perspective.
Written approximately thirty years after the Prophet's death, drawing on oral traditions, the Quran is imbued with the ideology of a conquering Islam. The famous jihad, the call to holy war, enjoins Muslims to fight against the infidels—"who are nothing but filth"—in order to convert them (Surah 9). But alongside these texts, there are numerous passages that present God as "the Most Merciful, the All-Merciful" (Surah 1) and call upon believers to conform their lives to divine justice and mercy (Surah 3:5).
This ambivalence between love and violence is not unique to the Quran. It is characteristic of religions that claim to be "revealed," that is, given by God to believers through a sacred text. The Bible contains numerous passages where God commands the Jews to massacre their adversaries to conquer the Promised Land (Joshua 8), and during the Crusades, the Catholic Church found in Scripture a justification for its policy of conquest and murder. Just as the Gospels gave us Francis of Assisi and the Grand Inquisitor, the Quran has inspired the most beautiful love poems and the attacks of September 11th.
This ambiguity in the texts raises the question of their interpretation. A literal interpretation of the most bellicose verses inevitably leads to the worst extremes. Fanaticism thrives on fundamentalism. Over time, and shaped by modernity, Jewish and Christian communities have developed a critical reading of their Scriptures. This has led them to a humanist interpretation, offering a spiritual, allegorical, or symbolic explanation of passages that seem to contradict the notions, recognized as fundamental, of love and respect for others.
The real problem with Islam, therefore, is not the Quran itself, but the fear of modernity among many religious leaders, and the absence of a communal interpretation capable of prioritizing the very contradictions within the text, through a reading that favors a faith respectful of others, particularly women and non-Muslims. On this point, Islam, born nearly fifteen centuries after Judaism and six after Christianity, is still a "young" religion. Yet, from its very origins, certain mystical currents like Sufism have undertaken this task. Jihad was no longer interpreted as a military conquest, but as a struggle against oneself, an inner conquest, with the infidel becoming everything that resists faith and the love of God in the heart of the believer. Unfortunately, such interpretations have remained marginal, suppressed by authorities afraid of prioritizing the spirit over the letter.
The exploitation of the Quran by terrorists makes a critical re-examination of its sources and institutional interpretation urgent for the many devout and pacifist Muslims. Only then will the Muslim community be able to counter the most sectarian readings with an authoritative interpretation of the Quranic text, thus discrediting the interpretations of leaders seeking revenge against the West (Bin Laden) or those nostalgic for a society entirely governed by Sharia law (the Taliban). And they will certainly not be helped to achieve this crucial goal by demonizing them, in the way their fanatics demonize Westerners.
November 2001