Islamic Universities in Egypt and Indonesia as Tools of Liberal Governance: How States Use them to Canonize Reformed Versions of Islam

Abstract

This article examines how liberal states regulate religion through a comparative study of government-run Islamic universities in Egypt and Indonesia. Building on recent historical scholarship, it is argued that, contrary to conventional views, liberal states have frequently endorsed government intervention in religious life – including “authoritarian” repression of disfavored religious beliefs and practices. Liberal interventionist policies were first developed in Europe during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, where they were applied most intensely to Catholics. The policies were then brought to the Muslim world during the colonial era, and have been maintained by liberal post-colonial Muslim states like Egypt and Indonesia. It is argued that such Muslim states utilize heavy government intervention to promote liberal ideals of “civilizational progress” (i.e., development) and “religiously inclusive nationalism”. Intervention is carried out, in large part, through state-run systems of religious education, which include Islamic universities. Such universities canonize reformed “progressive” “nationalist” versions of Islam, while simultaneously decanonizing “fanatic” versions of Islam which oppose civilizational progress and religiously inclusive nationalism. It is shown that the canonization process involves ascribing unique importance to particular languages, places, persons, and texts associated with the Islamic tradition.

It is commonly assumed that liberalism affirms expansive freedom of religion. On this view, liberalism categorically rejects state intervention in religious matters—especially authoritarian repression of disfavoured religious beliefs and practices. Nevertheless, over the past three decades, scholars in various fields have begun to question the preceding view—drawing attention to the actual history of liberalism since its emergence in the 18th century.¹ Thus, many eminent liberal thinkers have endorsed significant forms of state control over religion, including government intervention in matters of religious doctrine, preaching, and education. These thinkers have also condoned repression of disfavoured ‘fanatic’ forms of religion (eg John Locke, Pierre Bayle, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Voltaire).² (Proto-)liberal European states often exercised significant control over religion within their borders between the 18th and early 20th centuries (eg Enlightened absolutism, the French Revolution and Napoleonic era, Kulturkampf).³ Liberal European states (eg France, Britain, the Netherlands) also exercised significant control over religion in the Asian and African lands they brought under colonial rule between the late 18th and mid-20th centuries (including Muslim lands).⁴ Colonial governance of this kind received support from many eminent liberal thinkers (eg James Mill, John Stuart Mill, Alexis de Tocqueville, G.W.F. Hegel).⁵ Admittedly, some liberals contested particular government interventions in religion and (arguably) most did not view them as ideal. Yet, this does not negate their historical prevalence.

The present article does not treat liberalism as a simple abstract set of ideas. Rather it focuses on concrete historical policies endorsed by liberal thinkers and politicians—inside and outside of Europe. The article identifies a pattern in liberal policies for managing religion and examines the impact of such policies on Muslim populations.

The end of the colonial era in the mid-20th century saw the emergence of politically independent ‘Muslim-majority states’ (ie states where a majority of the population identifies as Muslim). Generally speaking, these states have legal systems which consist primarily of liberal laws borrowed from Western governments. Traditional Islamic rules are usually only applied (with modifications) in the field of family law (ie marriage, divorce, custody, inheritance). However, basic Islamic values commonly give rise to legal restrictions on blasphemy, sex, and drug use. Muslim-majority states do not seek to revive traditional Islamic empires.⁶ Rather they take the Western liberal national state as their primary political model.⁷ For these reasons, Muslim-majority states may be characterized as liberal or at least semi-liberal.

It is well known that contemporary Muslim-majority states exercise significant control over religion.⁸ However, the nature and historical genealogy of such control is a matter of dispute. Typical studies implicitly or explicitly suggest that it reflects a fundamental (authoritarian) deviation from liberal governance.⁹ In contrast, the present article contends that the religious policies of contemporary Muslim-majority states are broadly consistent with major (and arguably dominant) historical strands of liberal thought and political practice.¹⁰ This is because liberal Western states brought their religious policies to Muslim lands during the colonial era. Post-colonial Muslim-majority states have largely retained the same policies for a number of reasons. These include continued pressure from hegemonic Western states, and the voluntary endorsement of such policies by many Muslims—especially among political, military, and intellectual elites. The preceding perspective does not imply that liberal religious policies in the West are exactly the same as those found in Muslim lands. Rather, it is recognized that liberal policies have been applied in somewhat different ways depending on the historical period and geographical region.

In explaining Muslim-majority states’ religious policies, the article concentrates on contemporary Islamic universities, and their place in larger government-run systems of religious education. The article sets forth the following argument. Liberal governance is historically associated with state-led religious reform. Accordingly, (semi-)liberal Muslim-majority states have established Islamic universities as mechanisms for canonizing and propagating reformed versions of Islam. Each Muslim-majority state produces its own idiosyncratic version of reformed Islam (eg Egyptian Islam, Indonesian Islam, Pakistani Islam). However, these reformed versions of Islam share general features. Thus, all (conditionally) endorse the liberal ideal of ‘civilizational progress’ (ie ‘development’/‘modernization’), and associated values of science and human rights. Furthermore, all versions (conditionally) endorse a liberal form of nationalism marked by religious inclusiveness. Such nationalism insists that the national community extends beyond committed Muslims, to include both non-Muslim minorities and Muslims with low levels of religious commitment. By canonizing and propagating reformed versions of Islam, the state seeks to counter ‘fanatic’ (ie ‘radical’/‘extremist’) versions of Islam, which resist ‘progress’ and oppose religiously inclusive nationalism. The preceding argument can be seen as a new synthesis, which brings together points found in existing studies on Islamic religious reform,¹¹ Islamic religious education,¹² government control of religion in the Muslim world,¹³ and nationalism in the Muslim world.¹⁴

The article examines two of the most important Muslim-majority states. The first is Egypt, which currently has the largest population of any Arab or Middle Eastern state by a substantial margin (∼110 million). The second is Indonesia (a territory consisting of 17,000 islands), which currently has the largest population of any Muslim-majority state (∼270 million). Both Egypt and Indonesia have giant nationwide systems of government-run Islamic universities.¹⁵ Egypt’s system is associated with the ancient mosque-madrasa of al-Azhar. Indonesia’s system is associated with a distinctive regional form of Islam found in ‘Island Southeast Asia’ (ie Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei, and the Philippines). There are several reasons to study these two systems together. The first is their global influence. Egypt’s system is (arguably) the most influential locus of Islamic scholarship and learning in the world. Indonesia’s system is the most influential locus in Southeast Asia, although its impact outside this region is somewhat limited. A second reason to study these two systems together is that they provide some striking contrasts. They show how certain basic shared elements of Islamic education take on divergent forms in highly dissimilar political and cultural contexts. A third reason to study these systems is to highlight historical connections between them. As we will see, educational institutions in Egypt and Indonesia are related to one another, reflecting long-standing religious linkages between the Arab Middle East and Southeast Asia.¹⁶

There exist a number of studies on Islamic universities in Egypt,¹⁷ and on Islamic universities in Indonesia.¹⁸ However, this article presents the first study comparing Islamic universities in both countries. Unlike other studies, it also situates these universities in relationship to enduring policies of liberal governance. The article draws data on the universities from relevant textual materials written in the Arabic and Indonesian languages. These materials include printed books, pamphlets, and university documents. Materials also include internet-accessible news articles, university websites, government announcements, and fatwā databases. Data for the article also comes from several years of ethnographic fieldwork I conducted within Egyptian and Indonesian Islamic universities using anthropological methods. The fieldwork involved auditing classes, interviewing professors and students, attending university events, and reviewing university programmes and curricula. The fieldwork required many separate trips. I spent a total of more than 2 years in Egypt between 2009 and 2013. There, I was granted access to al-Azhar University, Cairo University’s Dār al-ʿUlūm, and other sites of Islamic learning. I spent a total of more than 3 years in Southeast Asia between 2014 and 2023 (ie primarily Indonesia, but also Malaysia). There, I was granted access to Universitas Islam Negeri Syarif Hidayatullah, Universitas Islam Internasional Indonesia, International Islamic University Malaysia, and other sites of Islamic learning. (I was also permitted to study local human rights NGOs and security agencies concerned with Islamic education.) Oftentimes, the results of ethnographic fieldwork are presented through rich and detailed descriptions of places, people, events, and conversations. Although I have supplied such descriptions elsewhere,¹⁹ I cannot do so here due to limitations of space. Rather, the present article simply synthesizes and summarizes a very large amount of ethnographic data from multiple sites in Egypt and Indonesia.

An additional unique feature of the article is its engagement with ‘canonization’. Canonization is a process found in any type of tradition (eg religious, legal, cultural, literary/artistic).²⁰ Understood broadly, canonization involves selecting out a subset of materials associated with a tradition as particularly important. The selected materials are then made into a standard for determining conformity with the tradition, and for guiding future beliefs and behaviour. Hence, it can be said that canonization entails a highly selective reading of the past, which is then used to exert control over the future. The concept of canonization is most readily associated with past texts (eg Biblical books, Confucian classics, English literature). Nevertheless, canonization can be applied to a much broader range of past materials, including persons (eg Catholic saints, nationalist heroes), practices (eg rituals, languages), material objects (eg dress, sculptures, paintings), places (eg monuments, territories) and the like. In this sense, canonization partially overlaps with processes that have been analysed in scholarship on ‘cultural/collective memory’,²¹ embodied ‘discursive traditions’,²² and the ‘invented traditions’ associated with modern nationalism.²³ The past three decades have witnessed a growing number of studies on canonization in the Islamic tradition. These studies have addressed the canonization of the Qurʾān, of ḥadīth compilations, of legal schools, and of reformed Islamic thought.²⁴ Few would dispute that religious education plays a central role in canonization. Nevertheless, existing research on Islamic education typically does not engage with the concept of canonization in a direct or explicit manner.

Using data on Islamic universities, the article suggests approaching canonization as follows. One can conceptualize any version of the Islamic tradition as a complex entity with multiple features. Four of the most important features are languages (eg Arabic, Persian), places (eg Makka, Cairo, Qum), persons (eg Abū Ḥanīfa, al-Ghazālī, al-Shaykh al-Mufīd), and texts (eg the Qurʾān, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, Mukhtaṣar Khalīl). Any version of the Islamic tradition centres on specific languages, places, persons, and texts. With this view in mind, the article shows how state efforts to canonize reformed versions of the Islamic tradition involve selecting out specific languages, places, persons, and texts as particularly important.

Unlike many other studies, the present article neither condemns nor condones heavy government intervention in religion. Rather than offering a normative perspective on the interventionist policies of Muslim-majority states, the article simply seeks to describe them accurately.

The remainder of the article is divided into three sections. Section 1 discusses how Islamic educational institutions came to embrace ideals of religious reform, civilizational progress, and religiously inclusive nationalism between the colonial and post-colonial eras. Section 2 provides an overview of Islamic educational institutions in Egypt and Indonesia, giving special attention to universities. Section 3 discusses how Egypt and Indonesia use religious universities to canonize reformed versions of Islam tied to specific languages, places, persons, and texts.

1. RELIGIOUS REFORM, CIVILIZATIONAL PROGRESS, AND NATIONALISM

To understand how Islamic universities function as tools of liberal governance, it is necessary to address the global history of liberal governance. The Enlightenment (∼1650–1800) witnessed the emergence of liberal social and political thought. Such thought endorses a theory of ‘civilizational progress’.²⁵ The theory holds that societies naturally develop along a particular trajectory. Over time, they achieve ever higher levels of ‘scientific’ and ‘moral’ progress. Scientific progress is equated with continuous increases in scientific knowledge, as well as resulting advances in technology and economic output.²⁶ Meanwhile, moral progress is equated with a utilitarian project of continuously increasing human happiness (and decreasing human suffering). It is assumed that happiness can be increased (and suffering decreased), through the ongoing reform of laws/norms in keeping with liberal values of liberty, equality, and humaneness. Thus, reforms aim to constantly increase individual liberty and equality (eg by eliminating slavery, blasphemy laws, and gender discrimination). Reforms likewise aim to constantly reduce gratuitous violence associated with policing, punishment, and war (eg by eliminating torture, corporal punishment, and the targeting of civilians). In this sense, the notion of moral progress embodies a type of liberal utilitarianism.²⁷ It generates the liberal laws/norms associated with ‘human rights’.²⁸ ‘Civilizational progress’ is a broader phenomenon which incorporates both scientific and moral progress. It is roughly equivalent to the contemporary concept of ‘international development’.²⁹

Since the Enlightenment, liberals have argued that the state should use its power to promote civilizational progress. Liberals have also asserted that traditional religion is a major obstacle to progress. This is because every traditional religion endorses many beliefs which conflict with science and many laws/norms which conflict with liberal utilitarianism. Moreover, prior to the Enlightenment, societies in Europe, Asia, and Africa were dominated by an enormous infrastructure of religious institutions. Religious institutions were especially powerful in Christian and Muslim societies.³⁰ Managed by religious scholars (eg clerics, ʿulamāʾ), these institutions included houses of worship (eg churches, mosques), convents (for monastics, Sufis), lower-level schools, colleges/universities, hospitals, almshouses, orphanages, and the like. Institutions, their operations, and their personnel were financially supported by revenue-producing endowments consisting in massive amounts of real estate (ie land, buildings).³¹ This situation empowered religious scholars, and enabled them to exert significant influence over the government, the laws, the educational system, and the general provision of social services.

Between the 18th and early 20th centuries, liberals convinced European states to facilitate progress by reducing the countervailing influence of traditional religion. This involved states increasing their control over religious institutions, and fostering ‘progressive’ religious reform. States increased their control over religious institutions by confiscating their endowments³²; monitoring and regulating their operations more closely (often with the aid of new offices/ministries for religious affairs)³³; making religious scholars into subservient salaried state officials³⁴; and tightly controlling scholars’ appointments and promotions.³⁵ This brings us to progressive religious reform. Progressive reform entails reinterpreting scriptural texts and doctrines, such that they are understood as endorsing ‘scientific’ and ‘moral’ progress. For instance, in the premodern era, Christianity and Islam were widely understood as asserting that miracles exist, that demons exist, and that God created the first human (Adam) from clay. Christianity and Islam were also widely understood as endorsing slavery, blasphemy punishments, and minor marriage. Reforming these religions in keeping with scientific progress means reinterpreting their texts and doctrines to assert that most (or all) miracles do not really exist (eg they are metaphors or coincidences consistent with scientific laws)³⁶; that demons do not really exist (eg they are metaphors for evil, or ways of speaking about psychiatric illness)³⁷; and that humans actually originated through Darwinian evolution.³⁸ Reforming these religions in keeping with moral progress means reinterpreting their texts and doctrines to assert that they do not really endorse slavery,³⁹ blasphemy punishments,⁴⁰ and minor marriage (at least under present circumstances). Christians and (later) Muslims both came to embrace progressive religious reform. Thus, between the 18th and 19th centuries, private actors and states cooperated to spread reformed versions of Protestantism, Catholicism, and Eastern Orthodoxy across Europe.⁴¹ States played a role by appointing reformers to positions of authority within various religious institutions (eg churches, charities) including those concerned with education (eg schools, universities).⁴²

Significantly, at this time, European states also insisted that religious institutions in their territories embrace emerging forms of nationalism.⁴³ These institutions were expected to compose patriotic sermons and hymns, celebrate nationalist holidays,⁴⁴ and assimilate the national culture (eg by translating religious texts into the national language, by using the national language in worship, by endorsing national customs related to dress and diet). Religious scholars were obliged to take oaths of loyalty to the nation-state, and to the liberal principles embedded in the national constitution.⁴⁵ In short, European states used their power to promote reformed versions of religion that were progressive and nationalist. They thereby provided a model for Muslim-majority states.

Between the late 18th and mid-20th centuries, European liberals widened their objectives. Rather than simply demanding that their governments promote civilizational progress and religious reform within Europe, they insisted that these governments do so across the globe (ie the ‘civilizing mission’, the ‘white man’s burden’). Accordingly, European states constructed vast empires. The empires existed partly to accumulate power and resources, but also partly to advance liberal ideals. By the early 20th century, European empires had extended their rule over almost all of the Muslim world. At this time, the British Empire⁴⁶ controlled the Indian subcontinent, much of the Middle East, the Malaysian peninsula, and parts of Sub-Saharan Africa. Meanwhile, the French Empire⁴⁷ controlled North and West Africa, and the Dutch Empire⁴⁸ controlled Indonesia. In these lands, liberal imperial governments adopted religious policies broadly patterned on those found in Europe. Thus, they worked with private Muslim individuals to spread progressive religious reform. They established a significant measure of control over religious institutions and their endowments; they closely monitored the institutions’ operations and surveilled their personnel (often with the aid of special agencies)⁴⁹; they appointed and promoted reformers; and they made many religious scholars into paid servants of the state.⁵⁰ Nevertheless, given Muslim sensitivities about foreign interference in their religion, imperial governments exercised some restraint, and did not push these measures as far as they would be pushed later on (ie by independent Muslim-majority states). Due to the preceding developments, large-scale Muslim reform movements began to emerge across the globe in the latter half of the 19th century (eg Young Ottomans in Turkey, the Salafiyya movement centred in Egypt, the Aligarh movement in India, Jadidism in Central Asia, and the Kaum Muda in Southeast Asia).⁵¹

Liberal efforts to promote progress and religious reform produced a spectrum of reactions in Europe and then the Muslim world. In both places, there were individuals who accepted these things with few reservations. They held that scientific progress and associated advances in technology and economic output were needed to militarily defend the homeland and ensure its future material prosperity. They also admired the new laws/norms generated through moral progress. However, others resisted progress, holding that it undermined cherished traditional values like religion, and interlinked forms of marriage, family, and community. Those who resisted progress rarely rejected it absolutely. They were usually willing to accept some significant measure of progress, albeit far less than that demanded by staunch liberals. The preceding attitudes carried over into matters of religious reform. Some Christian and Muslim reformers were willing to accept more progress than others. Since the late 19th century, those Muslim reformers most receptive to progress have been willing to abandon traditional Islamic beliefs on demons⁵² and God’s creation of Adam from clay.⁵³ They have also been willing to abandon traditional Sharīʿa laws/norms on slavery,⁵⁴ blasphemy punishments,⁵⁵  jihād conquest,⁵⁶ polygamy,⁵⁷ veiling,⁵⁸ and minor marriage. However, most Muslim reformers have been more resistant—abandoning a smaller number of traditional beliefs and norms. In Europe, some regions (eg Northwest Protestant lands) have been more receptive to progress and religious reform, while others have been more resistant (eg Southern and Eastern Catholic/Orthodox lands).⁵⁹ The same dynamic exists in the Muslim world. For instance, generally speaking, Southeast Asia (including Indonesia) is more receptive to progress and religious reform than the Arab world (including Egypt).

‘Fanaticism’ is a key term in liberal thought.⁶⁰ It is roughly equivalent to the contemporary terms ‘radicalism’ and ‘extremism’. Since the 18th century, liberals have applied this strong pejorative term (and others like it) to describe resistance to progress and religious reform. (This article uses the liberal terms ‘fanaticism’, ‘radicalism’, and ‘extremism’ without endorsing their normative connotations). Liberals habitually treat fanaticism as a dangerous form of political opposition. This is because, among liberals, it is widely held that the state should promote progress and religious reform. Fanatic resistance to these things is then resistance to the state and its fundamental goals. With this in mind, liberals have frequently endorsed authoritarian measures to repress fanaticism and compel acceptance of reformed religion. These measures (ie ‘anticlericalism’) were first applied in Christian Europe (eg France, Spain, Italy, Germany) between the 18th and early 20th centuries.⁶¹ They were then applied in the Muslim world by European empires between the 19th and mid-20th centuries—although some empires (eg the French) adopted more intense forms of authoritarianism than others (eg the British).⁶² The measures at issue included state surveillance of fanatic groups⁶³; the forced dissolution of fanatic organizations⁶⁴; restrictions on fanatic speech and writings (eg ultramontanist preaching, anti-liberal papal decrees, Islamist newspapers, Islamic texts favourable to jihād or hostile to colonial rule)⁶⁵; discrimination against fanatics employed at religious institutions (eg via control of appointments/promotions)⁶⁶; and imprisonment or deportation of fanatic religious scholars.⁶⁷ In a European context, Catholics were targeted for heavy repression due to their perceived fanaticism.⁶⁸ Recent scholarship has highlighted considerable parallels between (earlier) Catholic and (later) Muslim experiences of liberal repression.⁶⁹

All of this remains important today. Between the early 19th and early 20th centuries, liberal policies were gradually adopted by independent Muslim-majority states that were not (or not yet) annexed by the European empires (ie Egypt, Turkey, and Iran).⁷⁰ The same liberal policies were then adopted by most of the independent Muslim-majority states created after the formal dissolution of the European empires in the mid-20th century. The intensifying trend of Muslim-majority states implementing liberal policies via authoritarian measures is exemplified in the following line of rulers: Abdulmejid I of Ottoman Turkey (1823–61), Khedive Ismāʿīl Pasha of Egypt (1830–95); Reza Shah Pahlavi of Iran (1878–1944); Mustafa Kemal Atatürk (1881–1938) of Turkey; Amānullah Khān (1892–1960) of Afghanistan; and al-Ḥabīb Būrqība of Tunisia (1903–2000). More recently, there is Suharto of Indonesia (1921–2008) and Ḥusnī Mubārak of Egypt (1928–2020). In keeping with the preceding trend, typical contemporary Muslim-majority states, like Egypt and Indonesia: (i) are committed to civilizational progress; (ii) closely monitor and control religious institutions, using them to promote religious reform—though operating with less restraint than the European empires; (iii) employ authoritarian measures to repress ‘fanaticism’, and compel acceptance of progress and reformed religion.

Admittedly, today, Muslim-majority states intervene in religion, and employ authoritarian measures to a much greater extent than European states. But this is largely because, by the early 20th century, religion had lost much of its influence in Europe, causing a lessening of liberal fears regarding fanaticism. By contrast, quantitative/statistical evidence indicates that, at present, Muslim populations are the probably most religious in the world. This includes populations in Egypt and Indonesia.⁷¹ At the same time, there are also major differences between Egypt and Indonesia. The Egyptian state applies far more intense authoritarian measures, given that its population is seen as more resistant to progress and prone to fanaticism. In contrast, since the fall of Suharto in 1998, Indonesia has established something like democratic elections and permits some level of fanatic speech critical of the government. Indonesian security forces are among the most transparent and restrained found in the Muslim world.⁷² The government largely avoids execution, mass imprisonment, and long prison sentences for non-violent fanatics. The Egyptian state takes a less restrained approach and does so with tacit support from liberal Western states.⁷³

Understanding contemporary Muslim-majority states also requires paying attention to nationalism. Between the late 19th and early 20th centuries, nationalist movements began to develop across the Muslim world.⁷⁴ These movements sought to create new European-style nation-states encompassing specific territories. They held that any future state would likely face separatism, internal conflict, and civil war if the populations in its territory viewed themselves as distinct peoples with divergent interests. Prospective Muslim nation-states covered territories which included highly committed Muslims, less committed Muslims, as well as non-Muslims. Nationalist movements sought to create novel identities that could be shared by all of these groups, thereby uniting them as one people. These identities often focused on shared language, race, culture/customs, and history. Shared commitment to Islam might be a component of such identity. However, nationalists usually did not make it the only component. Doing so risked alienating non-Muslims and less committed Muslims, as well as boosting ‘fanatical’ tendencies in the population.⁷⁵ In avoiding nationalism based solely on religion, movements in the Muslim world followed an existing European pattern.⁷⁶

Consider Egypt. Its territory has a Muslim majority (∼90 per cent today), and a (largely Coptic) Christian minority. Egypt was brought under French rule (1798–1801) and then under British rule (1882–1956) before winning independence. Since independence, the Egyptian state has embraced a form of nationalism which posits that the Egyptian people/nation share an Arabic language; an Arab race/ethnicity; unique culture/customs characteristic of the Egyptian territory; and a history which originates in the Pharaonic age, and then incorporates a later ancient Mediterranean Greco-Roman age.⁷⁷ It is further posited that Egyptians share a commitment to divinely revealed Abrahamic religions (al-adyān al-samāwiyya)—a category which includes both Islam and Christianity (although Islam is explicitly accorded a special status).⁷⁸

Indonesia resembles Egypt in a number of ways. Its territory has a Muslim majority (∼87 per cent today), and a (Protestant and Catholic) Christian minority, along with much smaller Hindu, Buddhist, and Confucian minorities. In the early 17th century, the Dutch established a presence in parts of Indonesia. During the 19th century, they gradually extended their rule over the entire area. Indonesia won independence from the Dutch in 1949. Since independence, the Indonesian state has embraced a form of nationalism which posits that the Indonesian people/nation share an Indonesian language; an indigenous Southeast Asian race/ethnicity (pribumi); unique culture/customs characteristic of the Indonesian territory (adat); and a history that dates back to the pre-Islamic period of great Hindu-Buddhist kingdoms (Srivijaya, Majapahit). The state officially recognizes six religious groups as part of the nation. These are: adherents of Islam (which is tacitly accorded a special status), Protestantism, Catholicism, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Confucianism.⁷⁹ It is claimed (idiosyncratically) that all these groups are similar because they share a vague monotheistic religious belief (Ketuhanan Yang Maha Esa).⁸⁰

Like many other Muslim-majority states, Egypt and Indonesia hold that preserving nationalism guarantees unity, thereby protecting against separatism, internal conflict, and civil war. However, ‘fanatic’ Muslims have always been drawn to forms of identity which place heavy emphasis on Islamic commitment, and which unite Muslim populations in different countries (ie ‘Pan-Islamism’/‘Islamism’).⁸¹ Fanatics have frequently opposed state-sanctioned nationalisms and denigrated them as recent artificial creations. Consequently, the Egyptian and Indonesian states do not merely regard fanatics as dangerous because they resist state initiatives promoting progress. They are also seen as dangerous because they undermine state-sanctioned nationalism which is believed to protect against separatism, internal conflict, and civil war. Fanatics constitute a large portion of the population, and states use authoritarian measures to repress them. However, since almost all the fanatics are non-violent, it is not always easy to justify such measures. To solve this problem, government and media elites continually propagate highly exaggerated fears about the existence of powerful fanatic terrorist groups intent on overthrowing the government. States enact authoritarian measures to ‘fight terrorists’, and then use these measures primarily to repress non-violent fanaticism.⁸²

As will be explained below, Muslim-majority states enact policies to create reformed versions of Islam, which embrace progress and religiously inclusive nationalism. However, it should be noted that these states also enact policies to create reformed versions of minority religious traditions. The policies push adherents of minority religions to likewise embrace progress and religiously inclusive nationalism. These policies are significant, even if they are less intense and elaborate than those concerned with Islam. In Egypt, the state reforms minority religion by exercising significant control over the Coptic Church and its institutions—albeit in a somewhat erratic fashion. The Pope (head) of the Church is a subservient figure who legitimates government policies using the Christian tradition.⁸³ If he shows uncooperativeness, he faces threats like arrest and having his position stripped from him by the state.⁸⁴ More generally, the government suppresses Christian resistance to its policies and favoured form of nationalism. Such resistance is often treated as fanaticism or ‘extremism’.⁸⁵ In Indonesia, the state reforms religions through a special ‘Ministry of Religious Affairs’ (Kementerian Agama). The Ministry’s primary responsibility is to fund and regulate Islamic institutions (see below). But it also funds and regulates institutions associated with Protestantism, Catholicism, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Confucianism (eg religious universities, houses of worship).⁸⁶ The Ministry demands that all these religions take a ‘moderate’ form which eschews fanaticism.⁸⁷ In this way, Egypt, Indonesia, and other Muslim-majority states work to produce parallel reformed versions of Islam and their minority religions.

2. STATE-RUN RELIGIOUS EDUCATION IN EGYPT AND INDONESIA

The Egyptian and Indonesian states use religious education to propagate reformed progressive nationalist versions of Islam. To understand the current educational system, a few words about traditional Islamic education will be helpful. In the premodern (ie pre-1800) period, aspiring Muslim religious scholars began their studies at a basic religious school (kuttāb) which taught Qurʾānic memorization, Arabic language skills, and other elementary forms of religious knowledge. Students (generally boys) then transitioned to a higher-level religious school known as a ‘madrasa’ (frequently in their early teens).⁸⁸ A madrasa is a building (often a mosque) where Islamic scholars (shaykhs) regularly teach. They offer study circle lessons scheduled around the five daily prayers. A typical madrasa contains areas for prayer and teaching, as well as student accommodations. Smaller madrasas had less than 50 students while larger madrasas might have hundreds of students. Endowments (awqāf) funded the upkeep of madrasas, and provided stipends for teachers and students. Madrasa learning focused overwhelmingly on religious subjects (eg Qurʾān, Sharīʿa, theology) and the study of the Arabic language (which was needed to understand key religious texts). Certain non-religious subjects (eg mathematics, logic, astronomy) received limited attention, being studied insofar as they aided in religious understanding. Madrasa learning was open-ended, such that a student might spend decades studying at an institution.

The higher the level of religious knowledge offered by a madrasa, the higher its status. Students often began at lower-status local madrasas before moving on to pursue more advanced studies at higher ranking madrasas. Established in the 970s, and located in Cairo, al-Azhar mosque is Egypt’s most famous madrasa. By the 18th century, al-Azhar mosque was probably the most prominent establishment of Islamic learning in the world. Consequently, students who began their studies at other madrasas (inside and outside Egypt), came to al-Azhar to pursue more advanced studies. Al-Azhar was very large for a madrasa. At the beginning of the 19th century, it had 40–60 teachers who served between 1,500 and 3,000 students.⁸⁹ Southeast Asia is home to a local form of madrasa known as a pesantren (or pondok).⁹⁰ In the premodern period, these pesantrens/madrasas did not have a particularly high status. They were relatively small, had limited financial resources, and were not able to recruit famous scholars as teachers. Consequently, students from Southeast Asia often eventually travelled to more prominent Arab centres of learning to continue their education. The most important of these centres were Cairo’s al-Azhar mosque and Makka’s al-Masjid al-Ḥarām.

Since 1800, there have been major changes to institutions of religious education in Egypt and Indonesia. These changes were introduced gradually—partly by European colonial empires and partly by Muslim-majority states (especially in the years immediately following independence). The most important changes were largely completed by the 1970s.⁹¹ These changes (which will be discussed below) include: (i) reducing the financial independence of religious educational institutions—either by taking their endowments⁹² or by building new institutions owned by the state; (ii) establishing special offices/ministries/councils (eg ‘Ministry of Islamic/Religious Affairs’)⁹³ to monitor the operations of religious institutions and surveil religious figures; (iii) making religious teachers into subservient salaried state officials, and tightly controlling their appointments and promotions⁹⁴; (iv) enacting measures to regulate curriculum and teaching; (v) significantly reducing the place of religious subjects in the overall curriculum; (vi) significantly increasing the place of Western-style non-religious subjects in the curriculum (eg medicine, economics, engineering); (vii) introducing the study of liberal laws/norms into the curriculum (esp. liberal state laws, and liberal human rights laws); (viii) introducing nationalist ideas, symbols, and practices; (ix) requiring religious institutions to officially endorse progressive nationalist Islam, and officially condemn fanatic Islam; (x) greatly expanding the size of religious educational institutions, and turning them into an integrated nationwide system.

At present, education in Egypt and Indonesia can be described as follows. Both countries have a large state-run education system with two components. The first component consists in a nationwide network of non-religious educational institutions—including primary schools, secondary schools, and colleges or universities. (Hereafter I will use ‘universities’ to refer to colleges and universities). These institutions focus almost exclusively on non-religious subjects, although they offer a small amount of basic state-mandated Islamic instruction. The second component consists in a nationwide network of Islamic religious educational institutions—including primary schools, secondary schools, and universities. These offer extensive instruction on Islamic subjects and the Arabic language. The network is managed and monitored by special state councils/ministries (eg al-Majlis al-Aʿlā li-l-Azhar,⁹⁵  Kementerian Agama). Although most education in Egypt and Indonesia is provided by the state, there are also private educational institutions (which are subject to heavy government regulation).

In Egypt, there are currently ∼20 million students in state-run non-religious primary and secondary schools. Meanwhile, ∼2 million students are enrolled at state-run Islamic primary and secondary schools (al-maʿāhid al-azhariyya); and ∼2.5 million are enrolled at private primary and secondary schools.⁹⁶ There are ∼2 million students in state-run non-religious universities⁹⁷ and ∼400,000 students in state-run Islamic universities⁹⁸. Approximately 25 such Islamic universities have been established in cities throughout Egypt (eg Cairo, Alexandria, Ṭanṭā, Damanhūr, Manṣūra, Asyūṭ). They are best regarded as branch universities of an integrated system (ie the Jāmiʿat al-Azhar system).

The Indonesian state exercises somewhat looser control over religion, and permits many more private Islamic educational institutions to operate. This phenomenon is especially evident at the level of primary and secondary schools. Thus, there are ∼43 million students in state-run non-religious primary and secondary schools (sekolah dasar, sekolah menengah pertama, sekolah menengah atas); ∼6.5 million students are enrolled at Islamic primary and secondary schools,⁹⁹ although only 10 per cent of these schools are directly run by the state.¹⁰⁰ The remainder are heavily regulated private institutions. There are ∼3.4 million students in state-run non-religious universities.¹⁰¹ Meanwhile, ∼800,000 students are enrolled at state-run Islamic universities (along with ∼500,000 students in private religious universities).¹⁰² At present, 58 state-run Islamic universities (Perguruan Tinggi Islam Negeri) have been established in cities throughout Indonesia (eg Jakarta, Yogyakarta, Surabaya, Makassar, Palembang).¹⁰³ They are best regarded as branch universities of an integrated system (ie the Perguruan Tinggi Islam Negeri system).¹⁰⁴

Unlike premodern madrasas, state-run Islamic universities are organized in terms of faculties. A typical faculty is devoted to a particular religious or non-religious subject. It occupies a single building with classrooms and offices for faculty and administration. It issues bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees in its given subject. Islamic universities usually incorporate both faculties devoted to religious subjects and faculties devoted to non-religious subjects. The more prestigious an Islamic university is, the greater the number and variety of its faculties.

Between the 1930s and 1960s, the Egyptian state developed a basic set of faculties for Islamic universities (devoted to both religious and non-religious subjects). Due partly to the large number of Indonesian students that have historically studied in Egypt, the Egyptian model influenced Indonesia. The Indonesian state developed a basic set of faculties partly in the 1940s, and more fully between the 1960s and early 2000s.¹⁰⁵

Presently, Egyptian Islamic universities feature various faculties (kulliyyāt) devoted to religious subjects. These include the Faculty of Sharīʿa and Law (al-Sharīʿa wa-l-Qānūn); the Faculty of Scripture and Theology (Uṣūl al-Dīn); the Faculty of Arabic Language (al-Lugha al-ʿArabiyya); the Faculty of Islamic Missionary Activity (al-Daʿwa al-Islāmiyya); and the Faculty of the Qurʾān (al-Qurʾān al-Karīm li-Qirāʾāt wa ʿUlūmiha). Meanwhile, faculties devoted to non-religious subjects include the Faculty of Commerce (al-Tijāra); the Faculty of Agriculture (al-Zirāʿa); the Faculty of Foreign Languages and Translation (al-Lughāt wa-l-Tarjama); the Faculty of Medicine (al-Ṭibb); the Faculty of Pharmacy (al-Ṣaydala); the Faculty of Dentistry (Ṭibb al-Asnān); the Faculty of Engineering (al-Handasa); the Faculty of Science (al-ʿUlūm); and the Faculty of Media (al-ʿIlām).¹⁰⁶

Presently, Indonesian Islamic universities, feature various faculties (fakultas) devoted to religious subjects. These include the Faculty of Sharīʿa and Law (Syariah dan Hukum); the Faculty of Scripture and Theology (Ushuluddin); the Faculty of Islamic Studies (Dirasat Islamiyah); and the Faculty of Preaching and Communications (Ilmu Dakwah dan Ilmu Komunikasi). Meanwhile, faculties devoted to non-religious subjects include the Faculty of Social and Political Sciences (Ilmu Sosial dan Ilmu Politik); the Faculty of Economics and Business (Ekonomi dan Bisnis); the Faculty of Psychology (Psikologi); the Faculty of Medicine and Health Sciences (Kedokteran dan Ilmu Kesehatan); and the Faculty of Science and Technology (Sains dan Teknologi).¹⁰⁷

There are a few things worth noting here. Those who enter the state-run Islamic universities have typically studied at Islamic primary and secondary schools. This means they have already spent significant time studying religious subjects as well as non-religious subjects. At universities, all students do some amount of additional religious study. Those who wish to become full religious scholars acquire a degree from one of the faculties devoted to religious subjects. Others acquire a degree from one of the faculties devoted to non-religious subjects.

The basic faculty structure of Islamic universities reflects commitments to scientific and moral progress. Hence, there are many faculties devoted to non-religious subjects associated with scientific progress, and related advances in technology and economic output (eg ‘Science and Technology’, ‘Medicine’, ‘Dentistry’, ‘Engineering’, ‘Economics and Business’). As noted earlier, premodern madrasas did not give much attention to such subjects. It will also be noticed that Egyptian and Indonesian universities feature a Faculty of ‘Sharīʿa and Law’. ‘Law’ here refers to bodies of state and international law which are generally (semi-)liberal in character (eg Egyptian state law, Indonesian state law, international human rights law). Hence, alongside the Sharīʿa, students are taught liberal laws/norms which embody moral progress.

Why do Islamic universities incorporate non-religious subjects/faculties alongside religious subjects/faculties? This is done to integrate non-religious and religious forms of knowledge. Such integration takes place on multiple levels. For example, faculties devoted to non-religious subjects make efforts to integrate religious material. Thus, in Indonesia, the Faculty of ‘Economics and Business’ offers both classes on Western economic theory as well as classes on Islamic economic models and Sharīʿa-compliant financial transactions. In Egypt, the Faculty of ‘Media’ trains students to use journalism and media technologies (eg television, radio, Internet) to spread Islamic content. However, integration between non-religious and religious forms of knowledge also takes place at a deeper level. It is expected that students who study Islamic knowledge and non-religious knowledge together will endorse a worldview based on both. In other words, they will endorse a reformed Islamic perspective, where religion is understood in light of the scientific and moral progress embodied in non-religious subjects.

At Islamic universities, and in society at large, the Egyptian and Indonesian states promote a reformed religious discourse that praises progress and nationalism, while condemning fanaticism.¹⁰⁸ In a contemporary Egyptian context, progress is denoted by Arabic terms like ‘taqaddum’, ‘tamaddun’, and ‘taṭawwur’; nationalism is denoted by terms like ‘waṭaniyya’ and ‘qawmiyya’; fanaticism is denoted by terms like ‘tashaddud’, ‘taṭarruf’, and ‘ghuluww’. The reformed version of Islam taught in state-run Egyptian educational institutions is often referred to as ‘wasaṭiyya’. Wasaṭiyya means ‘middle path’, and is best translated as ‘moderate Islam’. Moderate Islam is understood as the opposite of fanatic (or radical/extremist) Islam. In a contemporary Indonesian context, progress is denoted by Indonesian terms like ‘kemajuan peradaban’, ‘kemodernan’, and ‘pembangunan’; nationalism is denoted by terms like ‘nasionalisme’ and ‘kebangsaan’; fanaticism is denoted by terms like ‘fanatisme’, ‘radikalisme’, and ‘ekstremisme’. The reformed version of Islam taught in state-run Indonesian educational institutions is often referred to as ‘moderasi beragama’ (moderate religiosity) or ‘washatiyah’ (based on the Arabic wasaṭiyya). It is also referred to as ‘Islam Indonesia’ (Indonesian Islam) or ‘Islam Nusantara’ (Islam of Island Southeast Asia).

As we will see, the reformed versions of Islam created by the Egyptian and Indonesian states differ in two key ways. First, each version reflects the country’s general receptiveness to progress. Thus, the Indonesian version is more receptive than the Egyptian version. Second, each version is designed to legitimate the country’s specific religiously inclusive form of nationalism. As a more general principle, it can be said that most (if not all) Muslim-majority states canonize and propagate a reformed version of Islam which is adapted to their country’s receptiveness to progress and specific religiously inclusive form of nationalism (eg Moroccan Islam, Malaysian Islam, Pakistani Islam, Turkish Islam).

3. CANONIZING REFORMED ISLAM AND DECANONIZING FANATIC ISLAM

As noted above, canonization involves selecting out a subset of materials associated with a tradition as particularly important. The selected materials are then made into a standard for determining conformity with the tradition, and for guiding future belief and behaviour. Muslim-majority states seek to canonize their reformed versions of the Islamic tradition, by selecting out particular languages, places, persons, and texts as particularly important. States also seek to decanonize past materials used to legitimate fanatic Islam. This involves denying the importance of particular languages, places, persons, and texts. State-run Islamic universities play a key role in these efforts.

Although canonization is often employed to create a tighter and more coherent tradition, it can also be used to reduce a tradition’s coherence by introducing a plurality of dissident voices—including voices repressed in the past (eg stigmatized/heretical texts, persons, places). As we will see, when it comes to canonizing materials, state-run Islamic universities usually seek to construct a tight and coherent reformed tradition. Nevertheless, sometimes canonization is also used to construct a version of the Islamic tradition which is diverse and internally incoherent. Efforts to construct a reformed Islam and efforts to construct a diverse Islam are complementary. Thus, states recognize that not all individuals will be convinced to accept reformed Islam. Diverse Islam is made available as an alternative. Although the state prefers reformed Islam to diverse Islam, diverse Islam is still seen as superior to fanatic Islam. Whereas reformed Islam tends to simply reject materials which legitimate fanatic Islam, diverse Islam acknowledges these materials, but also affirms the existence of materials which conflict with fanatic Islam. This operates to undermine a standard argument made by proponents of fanatic Islam; namely, that the Islamic tradition supports their position, and that all other positions (including reformed Islam) are inauthentic, deviant, and essentially forms of political propaganda.

Let us now consider canonization/decanonization in relationship to languages, places, persons, and texts.

A. Canonization/Decanonization of Language

Religious traditions often accord unique importance to particular languages (eg Hebrew and Aramaic in Judaism; Greek, Latin, and Syriac in Christianity; Sanskrit and Tamil in Hinduism; Pali, Sanskrit, Chinese, and Tibetan in Buddhism). In the Islamic tradition, special importance has long been accorded to Arabic and (to a lesser extent) Persian. Arabic is the language of Islam’s sacred scripture (Qurʾān, ḥadīth). Although most Muslims do not speak Arabic, they regularly use Arabic expressions/formulae in prayers, greetings, festivals, births, marriages, funerals, and so on. Languages used by Muslims (eg Persian, Turkish, Urdu, Indonesian, Hausa) are usually Islamicized by being Arabized. Arabization involves taking on an Arabic script and absorbing large amounts of Arabic loanwords—especially words related to religion. (Islamicization may also involve absorbing Persian loanwords). All premodern Islamic educational institutions (kuttābs, madrasas) placed heavy emphasis on Arabic, although institutions outside of the Arab world (like pesantrens) also used local languages to aid in religious instruction.

At contemporary Egyptian Islamic universities, Arabic is the default language of instruction and faculty scholarship. Moreover, the Faculty of Arabic Language is a core component of the university system. This is the case despite modern pressures to make greater use of European languages (eg English, French) or to replace standard Arabic (Fuṣḥā) with a new distinctive Egyptian language developed from the Egyptian dialect of Arabic (ʿĀmmiyya).¹⁰⁹

Arabic’s place in Indonesia is more complicated. Here it is necessary to consider modern Turkish language policies and their influence on policies in Indonesia. Between the 1920s and 1930s, under Atatürk, the Turkish state began altering the Turkish language in keeping with the ideals of progress (associated with European languages) and religiously inclusive nationalism (associated with Turkey’s pre-Islamic history/heritage). This involved de-Arabization/Islamicization.¹¹⁰ Hence, the Turkish language was given a new Latin script to replace the Arabic script which had been used before. Arabic and Persian loanwords were removed from the language, while European loanwords and pre-Islamic Turkish (or Turkic) words were added. The Turkish state also sought to reduce the use of Arabic in religious rituals, requiring that the call to prayer (adhān) be made in Turkish. Some government figures even favoured using Turkish in basic forms of worship like the daily prayers.¹¹¹ Historically, Muslims have been resistant to using translations of the Qurʾān, preferring to learn and recite the Arabic text even if they cannot understand it. Despite controversy, in the 1930s, the Turkish government produced and published an official Qurʾān translation for mass use in the new Turkish language. The translation was accompanied by an official Turkish commentary (ie Tafsīr).¹¹²

Indonesia’s first President Sukarno (who served from 1945 to 1967) was an outspoken admirer of Atatürk’s religious policies.¹¹³ Under Sukarno, Indonesia began to adopt somewhat similar policies, albeit in a milder form. In the early 20th century, the Dutch government instituted measures to move the (proto-)Indonesian language (ie Malay) from its older Arabic script (Jawi) to a Latin script. In the 1940s and 1950s, under Sukarno, the Indonesian state enacted a series of systematic reforms to create a new Indonesian language. The reforms endorsed the Latin script and continuously added European loanwords. They also preserved pre-Islamic Sanskrit-related Hindu-Buddhist loanwords, while taking steps to reduce the influence of Arabic words and sounds/phonemes.¹¹⁴ In the 1960s, the Indonesian state produced and published an official Qurʾān translation for mass use in the new Indonesian language.¹¹⁵ Known as ‘Al-Qur’an dan Terjemahnya’, it is the most printed Indonesian translation. The state has continued to publish and periodically revise this text until the present. In the 1970s, the state also introduced an official Indonesian Qurʾān commentary.¹¹⁶ There is a notable parallel between the earlier Turkish translation and commentary, and the later Indonesian translation and commentary. In both cases, Qurʾānic verses are translated and interpreted in a manner which supports the state’s favoured reformed version of Islam.¹¹⁷ In keeping with government policies, at Indonesian Islamic universities, teachers and students have been encouraged to lessen their use of the standard Arabic Muslim greeting ‘al-salāmu ʿalaykum’. It is increasingly preferred to utilize Indonesian language greetings (used by Muslims and non-Muslims) like ‘selamat pagi’ (good morning), ‘selamat sore’ (good afternoon), and ‘selamat malam’ (good evening). At Islamic universities, the default language of instruction is the new government-approved Latin-script Indonesian. Students are required to have some level of Arabic knowledge, and there is a faculty which offers advanced instruction in Arabic language and literature (Fakultas Adab dan Humaniora). At the same time, extensive attention is given to English. Indeed, after Indonesian, English is the most important language of faculty scholarship. All of this has led to decline in Arabic’s status. It may be said that in Egypt and Indonesia, Arabic is canonized as an important element of the Islamic tradition. Nevertheless, Arabic is treated as more important in Egypt than in Indonesia. This is largely because Egyptian nationalism embraces the Arabic language, while Indonesian nationalism embraces the (new) Indonesian language. One can even speak of partial decanonizaton of Arabic in Indonesia.

B. Canonization/Decanonization of Places

Like other religions, the Islamic tradition accords unique importance to particular places. For instance, holiness is ascribed to particular cities (eg Makka, Madina, Jerusalem), to ancient and/or large mosques, and to the tombs of saints, scholars, and relatives of the Prophet. There are also sites that are considered to be centres of religious learning and scholarship. In order to become a recognized religious authority, one usually has to study at one of these centres. Cairo is filled with large ancient mosques (eg Ibn Ṭūlūn, al-Azhar, Sulṭān Ḥasan) and tombs of holy figures (eg al-Sayyida Nafīsa, al-Shāfiʿī, Ibn ʿAṭāʾ Allah). Moreover, since early Islam, Cairo has been recognized as a major centre of Islamic learning—with al-Azhar mosque eventually rising to the top (partly because it is located next to the famous shrine of al-Ḥusayn). Since independence, the Egyptian state has invested significant funds in al-Azhar, seeking to preserve and enhance its global reputation. Thus, the state now uses the ‘Azhar’ name for its giant system of religious education, with primary and secondary schools being referred to as ‘Azhar institutes’ (maʿāhid azhariyya) and all universities being referred to as branches of ‘al-Azhar university’ (Jāmiʿat al-Azhar). The state provides scholarships and accommodations for foreign students to study in its al-Azhar system. It also subsidizes media production to publicize the views of religious scholars affiliated with the system (eg books, radio shows, television shows). As a result, the al-Azhar system is still regarded as the most important centre of Islamic scholarship in the world, and through this system, the Egyptian state is able to influence views on Islam within and beyond its borders. Whereas other countries often send aspiring religious scholars to acquire knowledge at al-Azhar, al-Azhar typically trains its own religious scholars.

Notably, not all independent modern Muslim-majority states have approached religious education in the same way as Egypt. For instance, Turkey and Tunisia did not invest comparable resources in preserving their famous premodern madrasa-based centres of learning (Süleymaniye, Semâniye, Zaytūna). Rather steps were taken to marginalize them.

As indicated above, into the early 20th century, Indonesians strongly associated proper Islam with Arab centres of learning. Meanwhile, they held their own local centres of learning in fairly low regard. The Arab world was also invested with an aura of holiness given its many sacred cities, ancient giant mosques, and tombs/shrines. Indonesia had its own modest mosques and holy places (eg the tombs/shrines of the nine saints), but they were of a lower grade. This situation created a political problem. Indonesian religious students continued to travel to the Arab world and absorb a certain understanding of Islam. But the Indonesian state did not like this understanding, seeing it as overly resistant to progress (ie fanatic) and not sufficiently shaped by Indonesian nationalism. To help resolve this problem, between the 1940s and 1960s, the Indonesian state began creating its own new integrated state-run system of religious education. Beginning around the 1970s, the state started systematically redirecting students to pursue advanced religious studies in Indonesia and the West rather than the Arab world.¹¹⁸ The state also began constructing large mosques, culminating in the 1978 opening of Masjid Istiqlal (National Independence Mosque). Istiqlal is the largest mosque in Southeast Asia and offers religious courses. Istiqlal was built immediately next to the older massive Jakarta Catholic Cathedral. This was done to symbolize that nationalism in Indonesia includes Muslims and Christians. Significantly, Masjid Istiqlal displaced Masjid al-Azhar Jakarta, a private mosque established between 1953 and 1960 with assistance from al-Azhar University. It offered religious courses and was the largest mosque in Indonesia before Istiqlal. By building a vast system of religious education, and giant mosques, the state has sought to canonize Indonesia and its institutions as respectable centres of Islamic scholarship. Meanwhile, centres of scholarship in the Arab world have been partially decanonized.

It is also possible to see developments in Indonesia as promoting a diverse Islam. Thus, in the premodern period, the holiness of the Arab world, and the prestige of its centres of learning went hand in hand with an Arab quasi-monopoly on defining proper Islam. By constructing a vast Indonesian system of religious education, the Indonesian state promotes the notion that understandings of Islam are diverse. There is an Arab understanding and an Indonesian understanding. This being the case, it is not correct to presume the exclusive validity of the (fanatic) Arab understanding.

C. Canonization/Decanonization of Persons

The Islamic tradition grants particular persons unique importance. These include the Prophet and his family, the earliest generations of Muslims (salaf), Sufi shaykhs, and certain political/military leaders. Beyond this (Sunni) Muslims across the world recognize specific religious scholars as paramount authorities in fields such as Sharīʿa, ḥadīth, theology, Qurʾānic exegesis, and the Arabic language. Texts from such scholars are taught at all Islamic universities, including those in Egypt and Indonesia. These religious scholars and their texts will be discussed in the next section. This section focuses on a more restricted group of persons. Thus, in Egypt, special importance is accorded to religious scholars affiliated with al-Azhar. Meanwhile, in Indonesia, special importance is accorded to religious scholars and other persons associated with the region of Island Southeast Asia.

Let us first look at Egypt. The two highest ranking positions at al-Azhar are Shaykh al-Azhar and Egyptian Grand Mufti (Muftī al-Diyār al-Miṣriyya). The position of Shaykh al-Azhar was originally created in the late 17th century. The Shaykh is the head of the Azharite Egyptian system of religious education. His status is higher than that of the Grand Mufti. The Mufti position was created in 1895. The Mufti heads the Dār al-Iftāʾ—an Azhar-affiliated body in charge of providing authoritative Sharīʿa-based legal opinions (fatwās) on various issues. Egyptian Islamic universities accord special status to Azhar-affiliated scholars from the past two centuries—especially those who have served as Shaykh al-Azhar or Grand Mufti. They are seen as embodying an unbroken chain of authorities stretching uninterrupted from the premodern period until today. Thus, lists of these figures are found in books produced by Azhar, and their opinions are studied as representative of al-Azhar’s heritage. The most important of these figures is Grand Mufti Muḥammad ʿAbduh (1849–1905). ʿAbduh is widely considered to be the most influential Islamic reformer in history.¹¹⁹ His leading students were Rashīd Riḍā (1865–1935) and Muṣṭafā al-Marāghī (1881–1945). Riḍā developed ʿAbduh’s ideas and spread them across the Muslim world through his famous journal al-Manār. Al-Marāghī will be discussed below.

ʿAbduh’s core idea was that Islamic scriptural texts and doctrines had to be reinterpreted in keeping with reason, as embodied in scientific and moral progress (taqdīm al-ʿaql ʿala al-naql).¹²⁰ Thus, he argues that Islam is a rational scientific religion. For example, Islamic scriptural texts speak of invisible spirit beings (jinn) which cause illness. ʿAbduh claims that the texts are actually referring to disease-causing microbes, that were invisible until their recent discovery using microscopes.¹²¹ ʿAbduh also endorses Darwinian evolution,¹²² and attacks popular Sufi practices as baseless superstitious supernaturalism.¹²³ Additionally, ʿAbduh argues that a proper understanding of the Sharīʿa centres on rational utilitarian judgements about human happiness (Taḥsīn bi-l-ʿaql, maṣlaḥa).¹²⁴ ʿAbduh associates happiness with freedom and equality. On these grounds, he argues for reinterpreting Sharīʿa rules, and restricting polygyny (to the point of virtually banning it).¹²⁵ ʿAbduh and his students also develop a novel general approach to Sharīʿa. They claim that Sharīʿa rules fall into two general categories. First, there are ritual rules. These are permanent, and cannot be changed or can only be changed in minor ways. Ritual rules concern matters of worship (eg prayer, fasting, pilgrimage) as well as matters of family life and sexuality (eg marriage, divorce, inheritance, sex, dress). Second, there are non-ritual rules, which are all other rules (eg commercial transactions, torts, criminal law, laws of war). Muslim scholars are entitled to change non-ritual Sharīʿa rules if doing so helps increase human happiness and reduce human suffering. Some or all of these non-ritual rules might be eliminated.¹²⁶ This approach to the Sharīʿa is unprecedented, even though it is loosely related to certain premodern legal doctrines (eg the ʿibadāt-muʿāmalāt distinction, maṣlaḥa mursala, Maqāṣid al-Sharīʿa, ḍarūra).

Echoing other Islamic scholars of his era,¹²⁷ Abduh explicitly asserts that a period of authoritarian rule is necessary to bring ‘progress’ to Muslim societies.¹²⁸ For this reason, he endorses (with qualifications) British and French colonial rule of Muslim lands.¹²⁹

ʿAbduh is also considered to be the father of Egypt’s modern system of Azharite religious education. Thus, with British support, he began restructuring education at al-Azhar mosque in keeping with ideals of progress. Although Azhar scholars were initially resistant, in the course of the 1930s and 1940s, ʿAbduh’s ideas came to dominate the institution. They received definitive endorsement from ʿAbduh’s student al-Marāghī, when he became Shaykh al-Azhar with British support.¹³⁰ In the late 1940s, ʿAbduh’s status was commemorated with a grand new building (the Hall of Muḥammad ʿAbduh) constructed next to al-Azhar University’s first three faculty buildings.

Let us now shift forward to present era. The prestige of the Azhar lineage carries over to whoever occupies the positions of Shaykh al-Azhar and Grand Mufti. Accordingly, the government appoints figures to these positions who are willing to legitimate its preferred religious views, especially in Sharīʿa-related matters.

Thus, these figures approve ongoing moral progress, with appropriate speeches and legal opinions (fatwās). Such opinions often involve highly controversial and radical reinterpretations of premodern scriptural texts and doctrines. For instance, legal opinions have been issued which remove Sharīʿa restrictions on state-favoured interest-related economic transactions,¹³¹ and which permit Muslim women in non-Muslim countries to remove their veils for educational purposes.¹³² The Grand Mufti has made the surprising declaration that Egypt’s (semi-)liberal legal system largely conforms to the Sharīʿa.¹³³ This position is reiterated by Azhar professors—with some claiming that ‘eighty to ninety percent’ of Egyptian law is consistent with the Sharīʿa.¹³⁴

High Azhar authorities like the Shaykh al-Azhar and Grand Mufti also emphasize the importance of religiously inclusive nationalism. They regularly pose with the Egyptian flag, and publicly maintain close relations with the Pope of the Coptic Church. In times of trouble, the Shaykh al-Azhar and the Pope will jointly issue calls for national unity (al-waḥda al-waṭaniyya) between Muslims and Christians,¹³⁵ while Azhar teachers echo this message in mosque sermons.¹³⁶ The Shaykh al-Azhar also performs public acts of solidarity with the Pope, including acts that traditional Sharīʿa doctrines consider problematic or incorrect. These include attending the Pope’s funeral, and giving holiday greetings to the Pope and other Egyptian Christians on Easter and Christmas.¹³⁷

Azhar authorities also endorse nationalism in other ways. Between the late 18th and early 20th centuries, European scholars (often sponsored by empires) began to systematically excavate, collect, and document forgotten forms of pre-Islamic heritage, which often included many polytheistic statues and monuments. This newly-discovered heritage would later be incorporated into the nationalisms of various Muslim-majority states (eg Iraq, Turkey, Iran),¹³⁸ including Egypt and Indonesia. Recall that Egyptian nationalism places great emphasis on a shared history which includes Pharaonic and (to a lesser extent) Greco-Roman heritage. This heritage is embodied in polytheistic statues (eg Osiris, Pharaoh, Sphinx) and monuments (eg pyramids, obelisks, hieroglyphic panels). Beginning in the 19th century, Europeans and then Egyptians began collecting and then proudly displaying this heritage in museums, government offices, and other public areas.¹³⁹ Heritage objects are now central nationalist symbols. Accordingly, Azhar authorities have issued opinions that Islam does not require the destruction or hiding of polytheistic statues and monuments. Rather, Islam forbids their destruction and encourages their display as valuable forms of heritage. This not only applies to Egypt’s ancient heritage, but also to that of other countries (eg Afghanistan’s Buddhist heritage).¹⁴⁰ The Egyptian state and its media regularly broadcast the idea that Islamic objections to ancient heritage are signs of fanaticism and terrorism (eg news stories that fanatics are planning on bombing/destroying the sphinx and pyramids).¹⁴¹

Led by the Shaykh al-Azhar and Grand Mufti, scholars affiliated with Islamic universities continually attack and delegitimate fanatic forms of Islam. Over the past three decades, much of this attack has been directed at Salafism, which is associated with Saudi Arabian centres of scholarship outside the control of the Egyptian state. Salafism is seen as overly literalistic, conservative, and resistant to progress. It encourages the destruction of polytheistic statutes and monuments. It also endorses pan-Islamist ideals which hold that Muslims owe their political allegiance to the transnational Muslim nation (umma) rather than to specific nation-states. High Azhar authorities have issued legal opinions which forbid (non-violent) anti-government protests and criticism, especially when they are used to advance the agendas of fanatic groups (eg Islamists like the Muslim Brotherhood and Salafis).¹⁴² High Azhar authorities have declared that fanatic groups (including those which are non-violent) are heretics who have rejected (Sunni) Islam (khārijīs), and should be treated as terrorists or potential terrorists.¹⁴³ Azhar authorities instruct the police and military that the Sharīʿa encourages them to use all necessary means to repress fanatic groups—including deadly force and mass imprisonment.¹⁴⁴

The Egyptian state works to ensure that fanatics do not become religious authorities. This is done in various ways. Al-Azhar’s operations are overseen by special government organizations¹⁴⁵ and security agencies. These carefully monitor the speech, behaviour, and (increasingly) social media posts of all those within Islamic universities. Students, teachers, and administrators who exhibit signs of fanaticism (eg Salafism, having a long beard, wearing a niqab, fanatic social media posts) are subject to warnings, discipline, or expulsion from the university. Threats of arrest (and beyond) are also present. By removing fanatics from the system, the state ensures that such persons cannot claim authority based on having an Azhar degree or a teaching position at al-Azhar. Fanatics are also denied permission to teach or preach at mosques, or on television. Moreover, Azhar affiliates must show receptivity to progress and nationalism to be promoted and to increase their salaries. Hence the highest-level teachers, preachers, and administrators are also those most receptive to progress and most nationalistic.

Overall, the preceding policies operate to canonize an unbroken chain of Azhar authorities. The chain stretches back to the premodern period and extends to the current scholars who serve as Shaykh al-Azhar, Grand Mufti, teachers at al-Azhar University, and Azhar-affiliated mosque preachers. Meanwhile, there is a systematic effort to decanonize fanatics.

Like the Egyptian state, the Indonesian state has worked to canonize a select lineage of religious scholars. However, whereas the Egyptian state links its lineage to a famous ancient institution (ie al-Azhar), Indonesia does not do this (for it lacks such an institution). Rather it links its lineage to the region of Island Southeast Asia—where Indonesia is by far the largest state.

Pre-Islamic Southeast Asia was characterized by religious traditions which incorporated elements of Hinduism, Buddhism, and local animism. Islam began its spread across Southeast Asia in the 13th century. To facilitate proselytization, Muslim missionaries blended their religious teachings with existing religious and cultural traditions, generating a highly syncretic form of Islam.¹⁴⁶ For example, missionaries modified the existing practice of using shadow puppets (wayang) and gamelan orchestras to stage Hindu religious stories (eg Mahabharata, Ramayana). They continued staging the Hindu stories but mixed in Islamic religious symbols and teachings. Missionaries adopted the existing practice of slematan ritual feasts for protection from evil spirits, but added in chanted Arabic-Islamic phrases. Missionaries likewise adapted forms of local dress (batik), ritual music (bedug), and architecture (pendhapa) for Islamic ends.

It should be noted that the Indonesian people are divided into numerous ethnic groups with different customary/religious norms (adat). Some norms clearly violate the Sharīʿa, but were nevertheless retained when the groups embraced Islam. For example, the Sharīʿa endorses patrilineal inheritance and two genders. Yet, after converting, the Minangkabau people retained many of their matrilineal inheritance norms,¹⁴⁷ and the Bugis people retained many norms related to their system of five genders.¹⁴⁸

Although traditional Sharīʿa doctrines permit Muslims to take up some local cultural practices, there are strong restrictions on taking up practices from other religions. The type of syncretic Islamic religion developed in Indonesia often violates these restrictions. Consequently, it has been criticized by many Islamic scholars throughout the premodern and modern periods. Nevertheless, this syncretic religion remains widespread to this day, due in large part to the Indonesian state. The state holds that Indonesia’s syncretic Islam must be preserved. Thus, the state and its Islamic universities praise Muslim missionaries for blending Islam with local religious traditions. Those who receive the most praise are the quasi-legendary ‘nine saints’ (wali songo). These are famous Muslim religious scholars of foreign (part Middle Eastern) descent. They are credited with using syncretism to bring Islam to Java (Indonesia’s most important island) in the 15th and 16th centuries. Indonesia’s top Islamic universities are named after the nine saints. For example, the highest ranking university is located in the Javanese city of Jakarta (Indonesia’s capital). It is named after saint Syarif Hidayatullah—a figure who is believed to have been born in the Arab world (and is sometimes claimed to hail from Cairo). Universities in Yogyakarta, Malang, Bandung, and Surabaya are named (respectively) after the saints Sunan Kalijaga, Maulana Malik Ibrahim, Sunan Gunung Djati, and Sunan Ampel. The nine saints are the core of the lineage associated with the state’s favoured version of Islam. Nevertheless, this lineage also includes other figures. Generally speaking, these figures are either religious scholars or notable Muslim political–military figures (eg kings, politicians). Some of these are from the premodern (ie pre-1800) period, and others are from the modern period. State-run Islamic universities are frequently named after these figures (eg Ar-Raniry, Alauddin, Raden Fatah, Imam Bonjol, Raden Intan, Sultan Thaha Saifuddin, Sultan Syarif Kasim).

The lineage at issue continues to this day, where it is closely linked to governmental or quasi-governmental religious institutions developed since Indonesian independence in the mid-20th century. These institutions include state-run Islamic universities, Masjid Istiqlal, the Ministry of Religious Affairs, the fatwā-producing body Majelis Ulama Indonesia, and the mass religious organizations known as Nahdlatul Ulama and Muhammadiyah. The preceding institutions are closely related for two reasons. First, those within them have often been educated at state-run Islamic universities and frequently teach within them. Second, the government either directly appoints leaders to these institutions, or exercises significant influence over appointments. When the government selects people to teach in its Islamic universities, or appoints them to other religious institutions, it places them in the lineage of recognized Indonesian religious scholars.

Although the Egyptian and Indonesian states endorse nationalism, the Indonesian state has taken things further. It has developed its nationalism into a detailed ideology (Pancasila) taught in all state-run educational institutions. Indonesian law bans speech which denigrates nationalist ideology (penodaan Pancasila), or which denigrates religion (penodaan agama)—especially one of the six religious groups officially recognized by nationalist ideology. Indonesian Islamic universities place more emphasis on nationalism than their Egyptian counterparts. Here Indonesian Islamic universities resemble (and are likely influenced by) older Turkish Islamic university institutions, which have strongly stressed nationalism since the time of Atatürk.¹⁴⁹ Indonesian Islamic universities are decorated with numerous national seals and flags. At any university event or special lecture, all those assembled stand and sing the national anthem (Indonesia Raya). Indonesian religious scholars at universities (and elsewhere) frequently assert that the Sharīʿa permits greeting non-Muslim minorities (eg Christians, Hindus, Buddhists) on their religious holidays (eg Natal, Nyepi, Waisak).¹⁵⁰ Today, religious scholars often do this over social media (eg conveying greetings on the Buddhist holiday Waisak, by posting a picture depicting a veiled Muslim woman ritually giving alms to Buddhist monks in front of the Buddhist Borobudur temple).¹⁵¹

Recall that, across the Muslim world, pre-Islamic heritage was recovered by European scholars between the late 18th and early 20th centuries. Although elements of Indonesia’s pre-Islamic Hindu-Buddhist heritage remained embedded in popular syncretic religion, major European discoveries enhanced appreciation of this heritage.¹⁵² Newly recovered statues and monuments then became nationalist symbols to be proudly displayed (eg the statue-filled Prambanan and Borobudur temples). Like their Egyptian counterparts, contemporary Indonesian scholars hold that the Sharīʿa endorses the preservation and display of such heritage.¹⁵³ On the other hand, in Egypt there is no notion that pre-Islamic heritage should be blended syncretically with Islam (eg blending Islam with ancient Egyptian religious practices). By contrast, the Indonesian state strongly favours such syncretism, and this stance is echoed by its religious scholars. It is believed that Muslims who retain Hindu-Buddhist elements in their religion will be more accepting of Hindu and Buddhist minorities, and more willing to recognize their heritage as a component of Indonesian nationalism. The Indonesian state and its media regularly broadcast the idea that Islamic objections to Hindu-Buddhist heritage are signs of fanaticism and terrorism (eg news stories that fanatics want to propagate a foreign purely Arab Islam, and destroy Borobudur temple¹⁵⁴).

Modern Indonesian religious thought reflects a particular stance on progress. In the early 20th century, ʿAbduh’s ideas were disseminated globally through journals published by his students (eg al-Manār), and through al-Azhar (which hosted many foreign students). These ideas deeply affected religious thought throughout Island Southeast Asia.¹⁵⁵ They were embraced by influential Indonesian religious scholars in the early and mid-20th century, such as Ahmad Dahlan (founder of the mass organization Muhammadiyah) and Hamka (who taught at Masjid al-Azhar Jakarta). Nevertheless, generally speaking, Indonesian religious thought is more open to progress than that of Egypt. As mentioned earlier, the Indonesian state sees the Arab world as overly resistant to progress. Since the 1970s, it began systematically redirecting future scholars to pursue advanced religious studies in Indonesia and the West rather than the Arab world. The state then appointed this new generation of religious scholars to top positions in Islamic universities.¹⁵⁶ In doing so, it helped them win recognition as valid members of Indonesia’s lineage of religious scholars. Remember that ʿAbduh and his students are associated with the idea that ritual rules (related to worship, family life, and sexuality) cannot be changed, or can only be changed in minor ways. Although this principle continues to hold significant weight for both Egyptian and Indonesian scholars, the latter are more willing to depart from it. This is partly because Indonesian syncretism violates the principle (eg it includes forms of worship with added Hindu-Buddhist elements, it endorses matrilineal inheritance norms at odds with the Sharīʿa). Notably, the stance of Indonesian religious scholars also resembles (and is likely influenced by) Turkish religious scholars, who have (under state pressure) exhibited some (limited) openness to changing ritual rules since the time of Atatürk.¹⁵⁷ Moreover, it can be said that both Egyptian and Indonesian scholars tend to religiously legitimate the laws of their respective states. Indonesian scholars endorse more progressive laws because the Indonesian state has more progressive laws. For example, unlike Egypt, Indonesia has not made Islam its official religion, does not prevent Muslims from converting to another religion, and is open to some basic Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender (LGBT) rights (eg the creation of pesantrens that accommodate veil-wearing transgender women).¹⁵⁸ Indonesian scholars tend to endorse legislation of this kind, whereas their Egyptian counterparts tend to see it as religiously problematic.

Like Egypt, the Indonesian state works to ensure that fanatics do not become religious authorities. The operations of Indonesian religious universities are overseen by the Ministry of Religious Affairs, aided by security agencies. These carefully monitor the speech, behaviour, and (increasingly) social media posts of all those within the universities. Students, teachers, and administrators who exhibit signs of fanaticism are subject to warnings, discipline, or university expulsion. They are also denied promotions, salary increases, and access to positions of authority. Indonesian religious scholars affiliated with universities and other official institutions propagate the idea that fanatic groups are heretics who have rejected (Sunni) Islam (khawarij), and should be treated as terrorists or potential terrorists.¹⁵⁹ Nevertheless, they take a more restrained attitude than their Egyptian counterparts. They widely support current government policies of banning fanatic websites and social media accounts, as well as outlawing (non-violent) fanatic groups (eg Hizb ut-Tahrir, Front Pembela Islam). They are also willing to consider short jail terms for leading fanatics (eg Habib Rizieq). However, they do not openly condone strict bans on non-violent criticism and protests, or the use of severe repressive measures like mass imprisonment. Their attitudes are influenced by their understanding of Indonesia. Although Indonesian scholars oppose fanaticism, they believe that fanaticism is more widespread and threatening in the Arab world compared to Indonesia. If fanaticism were as widespread and threatening in Indonesia, it is likely that Indonesian scholars would endorse stronger measures to repress it.

Overall, it can be said that the preceding Indonesian policies operate to canonize an unbroken chain of Indonesian religious authorities stretching back to the premodern period. The chain extends to the current scholars who serve as teachers at Islamic universities, or authorities in other Indonesian religious institutions.

D. Canonization/Decanonization of Individual Texts

The Islamic tradition includes countless religious texts. Canonization involves selecting particular religious texts (or parts of these texts) as especially important. The canonization of texts overlaps with the canonization of persons. This is because canonizing a particular person as important implies that the texts he has written are also important. Nevertheless, the canonization of texts is not the same as the canonization of persons. A text written by an otherwise unimportant figure may be canonized (eg because it is useful, clear, well-organized, and concise). Moreover, some canonized persons have not written any texts that have been passed down to us. Rather their actions and opinions are only known from the reports of others. Many early Muslim figures fall into this category (eg Abū Bakr, ʿĀiʾsha, ʿUmar II). Additionally, many early Southeast Asian Muslim missionaries belong to this category (eg the nine saints).

The Egyptian and Indonesian states canonize texts which support reformed progressive nationalist versions of Islam. This is done in many ways. The most direct and obvious involves the production and collection of legal opinions (fatwās). In Egypt and Indonesia, scholars who belong to state-affiliated religious institutions (like Islamic universities) are continually asked to give legal opinions on various issues—often with the aim of justifying specific government policies. For example, such opinions declare that it is religiously meritorious for Muslims to celebrate Christmas,¹⁶⁰ that saluting the national flag is permitted,¹⁶¹ that statues are permitted,¹⁶² that anti-government protests are prohibited,¹⁶³ and that ‘marital rape’ is prohibited, and can even be validly punished with the death penalty.¹⁶⁴ Indeed, Egypt and Indonesia both have (quasi-)governmental organizations dedicated to producing appropriate Islamic legal opinions (the Azharite Dār al-Iftāʾ, Majelis Ulama Indonesia).¹⁶⁵ These opinions are collected and published in official books,¹⁶⁶ posted to official websites,¹⁶⁷ and spread through state-allied media (ie newspapers, television, internet).

However, there are more subtle ways that states work to canonized texts which support reformed versions of Islam. Here one must consider the structure of Islamic universities. Scholars who teach at these universities are required to regularly write Islamic texts (eg books, articles, pamphlets) as a condition of their employment. Moreover, these texts must endorse a reformed version of Islam. Scholars are rewarded for writing reformist texts with promotions, pay increases, research funding, and the like. The largest rewards go to those who are most skilled in arguing for reformism, and who push the limits in championing progressive and nationalist views. By contrast, scholars are penalized for writing fanatic texts (eg with demotions, job termination, arrest). This situation ensures that universities constantly churn out massive numbers of reformist texts.

States also canonize reformist texts by prescribing them for use in their giant systems of religious education. This can be explained as follows. Premodern madrasas made heavy use of a specific type of text known as a matn. Matns are highly compact (often) rhymed texts designed for ease of memorization. They are difficult to understand. Hence they must be explained through line-by-line commentary offered by a shaykh during a lesson. State-run institutions of religious education make some use of matns and other premodern Islamic texts. However, these institutions more often use modern texts, written within the past hundred years. These texts are designed such that they are simpler, easier to understand, and easier to read independently without a teacher’s commentary. In terms of content, they also reflect a progressive nationalist outlook. In the past, a given matn might be used for many centuries, as it was seen as embodying timeless theological beliefs and legal norms. However, more modern reformist texts are subject to constant replacement, because they must be constantly updated in keeping with scientific and moral progress. Reformist texts also embrace recent forms of nationalism absent from matns.

Scholars at Islamic universities produce the reformist texts used at these universities in keeping with government guidelines. The state also mandates the use of reformist texts at its Islamic primary and secondary schools. Such texts simplify the ideas found in university-level texts.

More can be said about the curriculum at state-run religious institutions. A key aim of the curriculum is to acquaint students with famous texts from the Islamic past—especially texts canonized in the premodern period. These texts fall into two major categories: (i) scriptural texts (Qurʾān and ḥadīth), (ii) non-scriptural texts (including matns), often written by eminent authorities, on topics like Sharīʿa, ḥadīth, theology, Qurʾānic exegesis, and Sufism. The preceding texts are taught in a highly selective manner.

In some cases, students are encouraged to directly read premodern scriptural and non-scriptural texts, with the aid of commentary from teachers. This learning method is known as ‘al-dirāsa al-naṣṣiyya’ in Egypt and ‘pembelajaran kitab kuning’ in Indonesia. It is accorded some importance, although much of this is symbolic. It allows students and teachers to claim that they are transmitting traditional knowledge in a traditional manner—making them competent custodians of ancient Islamic heritage. That being said, at present, this is not the primary method of learning. Rather, the primary method uses modern reformist texts. These works selectively cite premodern scriptural texts and non-scriptural texts which support reformist views, while ignoring, criticizing, or explaining away texts that support fanatic views. In this way, reformist works both introduce students to famous premodern scriptural and non-scriptural texts—but also ensure that students understand them in a specific manner. The selective citation practices found in contemporary reformist texts follow general patterns that are discernible in early Muslim reformist texts from the late 19th and early 20th centuries.¹⁶⁸

The reformist texts used at Egyptian and Indonesian universities are often rather generic, and resemble basic textbooks at Western universities. Let us consider how these texts selectively cite from the Qurʾān, the ḥadīth, and famous premodern non-scriptural works.

Regarding the Qurʾān, reformist texts place selective emphasis on verses which refer to ‘reason’ (‘aql) and ‘thinking’ (tafakkur, tadabbur) (eg Qurʾān 29:35, 10:24). These verses are interpreted as endorsing the type of rationalistic thought associated with science and liberal utilitarian morality. Reformist texts place emphasis on Qurʾān (2:143) which refers to Muslims as a ‘people of the middle way’ (ummatan wasaṭan). This verse is interpreted as affirming ‘moderate Islam’ (wasaṭiyya), and condemning fanaticism. Reformist texts are greatly concerned with verses that can be read as supporting religious freedom for non-Muslims. These verses are important firstly because they legitimate moral progress (human rights). Additionally, they are important because they legitimate religiously inclusive nationalism, which presumes that non-Muslim minorities and non-committed Muslims have a place in the nation, and should not be forced to live in accordance with strict Sharīʿa norms. For example, reformist texts place emphasis on Qurʾān (2:251) which states ‘there is no compulsion in religion’ (lā ikrāha fi al-dīn). It is interpreted as endorsing a liberal human right to religious freedom. Reformist texts place emphasis on Qurʾān (21:107), which describes the Prophet as a ‘mercy for the worlds’ (raḥmatan li-ʿālamīn). It is interpreted as endorsing a type of compassionate tolerance for all people to live their lives as they wish. Another verse used to advocate this idea is Qurʾān (49:13), which speaks of God creating different types of people, so that they may know one another. In recent decades, increased emphasis has been put on Qurʾānic verses (2:62, 5:69) which speak favourably of Christians and Jews—promising them reward for their pious beliefs and behaviours. The most progressive reformists interpret these verses as suggesting that righteous non-Muslims may attain eternal salvation even if they reject Islam (ie ‘inclusivism’, ‘perennialism’). This mode of thinking is more widespread among Indonesian scholars but is even found among Egyptians. Thus, one notable Azhar professor of Islamic law¹⁶⁹ recently went on television and claimed that Jews and Christians can attain salvation. He further asserted that the Qurʾān promises heaven to any Egyptian Christian who dies fighting for the state—as this is a type of pious jihād.¹⁷⁰

Reformist texts also selectively emphasize particular ḥadīths. Thus, texts emphasize a ḥadīth where the Prophet says: ‘difference of opinion in my community is a divine mercy’.¹⁷¹ It is interpreted as proof that Islam encourages different viewpoints, and that there is not one correct version of Islam. Texts place emphasis on ḥadīths which are seen as advancing the rights of women in keeping with liberal ideals. These include ḥadīths on how the Prophet’s first wife (Khadīja) was a successful businesswoman, and how the Prophet enjoined kindness towards wives, saying: ‘The best of you is the one who is best to his wife, and I am the best of you to my wives.’¹⁷² Reformist texts also give special attention to ḥadīths that address a heretical early group of Muslims known as khārijīs. Khārijīs considered Muslims who committed major sins to be apostates deserving of death. In keeping with this view, khārijīs violently attacked Muslim government officials if they sinned by not fully applying the Sharīʿa. By contrast, the Orthodox (Sunni) position is that Muslims who commit major sins are not apostates and that violent attacks against a Muslim government are only permitted in limited circumstances. There exist ḥadīths wherein the Prophet foretells the coming of the khārijīs—condemning them and even enjoining Muslims to kill them.¹⁷³ Citing such ḥadīths, reformist texts depict contemporary fanatics as khārijīs—noting that they criticize the government for not applying the Sharīʿa, and that some even engage in terrorist attacks targeting the government. In this way, reformist texts put forth the novel view that the Sharīʿa legitimates strong repressive measures against ‘fanatics’—a group primarily composed of non-violent pro-Sharīʿa Muslims critical of government policies promoting liberal norms and religiously inclusive nationalism.

Reformist texts not only selectively emphasize certain Qurʾānic verses and ḥadīths. They also selectively deemphasize verses and ḥadīths which are used as evidence to support fanatic views. For instance, texts deemphasize Qurʾānic verses which threaten sinners with hell, and condemn non-Muslims as infidels (kuffār). It is not always possible to simply deemphasize and ignore Qurʾānic verses and ḥadīths. Sometimes these are already widely known and need to be confronted. Reformist texts carefully flag such verses and ḥadīths for special treatment. For example, special treatment is given to verses and ḥadīths on jihād, and on state implementation of Sharīʿa. Especially notable is Qurʾān (5:44), which states: ‘Whoever does not judge by what God has revealed—then it is those who are the disbelievers.’ This verse (often quoted by khārijīs) seems to imply that government officials who apply secular liberal laws rather than Islamic laws are not Muslims, and hence should be opposed or even rebelled against. According to reformist texts, Qurʾānic verses and ḥadīths of this type must be given an explanation which does not encourage fanatic views. Scholars in Egypt and Indonesia have produced countless texts with this goal. A particularly influential Indonesian work is the 2008 book ‘Deradicalizing Understandings of the Qurʾān and ḥadīths’ (Deradikalisasi Pemahaman Al-Quran & Hadis).¹⁷⁴

Reformist texts also selectively cite doctrines from theological and legal treatises, significantly modifying their meanings in the process. Here, the influence of ʿAbduh and his students is evident.¹⁷⁵ For example, the theological doctrine of taqdīm al-ʿaql ʿalā al-naql is cited to legitimate reinterpretations of Qurʾānic verses such that they are consistent with the latest scientific findings. There is continual citation of specific legal doctrines, including: Istiṣlāḥ, Istiḥsān, Maqāṣid al-Sharīʿa, Ḍarūra, al-Qawāʿid al-Fiqhiyya, the ʿIbādāt-Muʿāmalāt distinction, and taghayyur al-aḥkām bi-taghayyur al-azmina wa-l-amkina.¹⁷⁶ These various doctrines are mixed together and interpreted as legitimating changes to Sharīʿa rules (especially non-ritual rules) based on utilitarian reasoning. The legal doctrine of kull mujtahid muṣīb is cited to justify the view that different opinions are valid in legal matters, including opinions that legitimate changes to Sharīʿa rules.

4. CONCLUSION

The present article has argued that liberal governance deeply shapes political and religious life in Muslim-majority states. However, to appreciate this fact, it is necessary to put aside simplistic conventional understandings of liberalism. Building on existing scholarship, the article has shown that liberal states have frequently endorsed government intervention in religious matters, including authoritarian repression of disfavoured religious beliefs and practices. Rather than condemning or condoning such intervention, the article has simply sought to describe it accurately. Liberal interventionist policies were first developed in Europe during the 18th and 19th centuries, where they were applied most intensely to Catholics. The policies were then brought to the Muslim world during the colonial era, and have been maintained by post-colonial Muslim-majority states like Egypt and Indonesia. Muslim-majority states recognize that heavy government intervention is necessary to promote liberal ideals of ‘civilizational progress’ and religiously inclusive nationalism. Such intervention is carried out, in large part, through state-run systems of religious education. This phenomenon is exemplified in the Islamic universities of Egypt and Indonesia. Such universities canonize reformed progressive nationalist versions of Islam, while decanonizing ‘fanatic’ versions of Islam. It has been shown that the canonization process involves ascribing unique importance to particular languages, places, persons, and texts.

There are many reasons to study the Egyptian and Indonesian systems together, including their historical interconnections and global influence. The two systems also provide some striking contrasts. They show how certain basic shared elements of Islamic education take on divergent forms in highly dissimilar political and cultural contexts. It has been argued that Egypt’s system is more resistant to progress than its Indonesian counterpart. Each system endorses a distinctive form of religiously inclusive nationalism, although nationalism is given greater emphasis in the Indonesian system. While authoritarian measures shape both systems, they are more restrained in Indonesia and more intense in Egypt. This is because elites view fanaticism as a bigger problem in Egypt. It is common to criticize Egyptian and Indonesian religious policies as authoritarian deviations from proper liberal governance, as practised by Western states. But this is a misleading (or even prejudiced) view. Egyptian and Indonesian policies are more accurately viewed as variants of liberal governance adapted to local circumstances. If these policies merit criticism, it is not because they embody a rejection of liberalism.

Footnotes