Keywords

Introduction: Context, Questions and Methodology of the Inquiry

This chapter explores the interface between Islam, social work and the common good within the Muslim minority context of Europe. The ethics-law nexus in Muslim tradition is reconsidered with the view of generating a transformative Islamic engagement with the secular public space in modern multicultural European societies. The discussion is grounded in the Islamic values of relational ethics embodied in the concept of Shariʿa, applied wisdom ethics where Islam’s moral teachings are brought to bear on a range of real-world practical concerns. The idea of the public sphere in democratic societies assumes citizens actively involved in a decision-making process that facilitates the ethical pursuit of the common good. Social work, education, community cohesion and wellbeing are central to generating the public good.

There are challenges related to the post-World War II Muslim presence in Europe and the difficulties in defining common good in modern European societies where religion is often considered a private affair. Furthermore, there are diverse settlement models of the separation of Church and the state in Europe which inform how ‘public Islam’ is regulated. Questions concerning the compatibility of Islam with secularity and facilitating a settlement model between Islam and European states are explored in a separate study (Sahin, 2011). The main argument of the present inquiry builds on the previous studies, examining the role of religion and education in contributing to the common good and social cohesion in contemporary Europe (Sahin, 2010, 2018).

This study’s problematic is framed around wider questions about ‘public Islam’ in European societies: (a) how do secular democratic states manage the public visibility of Islam and accommodate the faith-based needs of their Muslim citizens?; (b) to what extent do Muslims, most of whom exhibit transnational identities and share a sense of belonging to the worldwide Muslim community, ʾumma, remain open to relating positively to the wider cultural/religious plurality of European societies? (c) does Islamic activism exploit public spaces (i. e., education, social work, chaplaincy and charity work) as sites for its missionary activities (daʿwa) or contribute to the common good and welfare for all?

In the aftermath of 9/11 and the 7/7 London bombings, the faith dimension within the ethnically and culturally diverse Muslim communities in Europe has gained more recognition. The challenge of public Islam in European societies is exemplified by discussions on Islamic extremism, Shariʿa law, state-funded Islamic schooling and Islamic sociopolitical activism (Martensson, 2014). This has led to the need for secular professionals such as social workers, who frequently engage with communities, to learn about the beliefs and practices of Muslims. There is a small body of literature which provides social work practitioners with information on Islam. This helps towards understanding the family values, youth problems and subcultures, mental health, wellbeing and social needs in the European Muslim diaspora (Barise, 2005; Ashencaen Crabtree et al., 2008; Robinson et al., 2017; Hodge, 2005; Ragab, 2016; Joshanloo, 2017). This literature is informative yet has worrying limitations. It does not contextualise Islamic social work and the concept of wellbeing within Muslim tradition or in the reality of European Muslim communities. The current study aims to fill this lacuna within the existing literature.

The inquiry employs a cross-disciplinary methodology that draws on theology and wider philosophical, social scientific study of ethics represented in the works of Husserl (2017), Levinas (1990, 1998, 1999) and Habermas (1984, 1990). Hull (2006) argued that in modern plural societies peaceful coexistence can emerge if worldviews, including religions, are willing to show a degree of ‘self-relativisation’, which helps to avoid being trapped in absolutism, leading to fanaticism and even violence. This is a form of self-contextualisation close to Husserl’s phenomenological method of “bracketing” one’s perception of the world in order to “transcend” its limitations and be emphatically open to the other (Husserl, 2017). In such a contextual dialogue, worldviews could still retain their distinctiveness while maintaining relevance in the modern world. Communities experience social inequalities across intersecting identity categories, such as gender, race, class and faith, all of which are also subject to internal debate, conflict and negotiations. Addressing such inequalities requires critical reflection on one’s identity and the recognition of its limitations. This can further cultivate the virtue of ‘epistemic humility’, which can be traced back to the humility theory of wisdom attributed to Socrates (Whitcomb, 2011). Hull’s concept of self-relativisation and transcendence leads to the condition of being ‘critically open to the other’ and is argued to be compatible with the Islamic educational principle of taʿāruf (learning from one another) (Sahin, 2014).

The concepts of social and public theology are closely related to the notion of political theology in terms of engaging with issues around social justice. However, the latter implies a more direct engagement with governmental policies, whereas the former’s concern is with the affairs of civil society and how to nurture values of trust, respect and solidarity within communities to promote the common good. Islamic social work, like Islamic education, is a field of practical theology that has a strong empirical dimension, where conducting interdisciplinary social science research will enrich the theological thinking. Theological reflection can be grounded in this specific area of practice where it mediates Islamic values in daily life and, in turn, theology becomes shaped by practical encounters, a process which can facilitate indigenous articulations of Islam in Europe. A contextual model of practical Islamic theology is suggested by Sahin (2014, 2018, 2019), originally developed through responding to the educational and identity needs of British Muslim youth. Too often, Muslim faith leaders use text-centred normative legal hermeneutics (fiqh) or speculative and defensive theology (kalām), where the contextual reality is considered as secondary. This inquiry argues that invoking the notion of relational ethics might facilitate a gradual shift from the dominance of text-centredness towards a better recognition of how texts are interpreted within the lived reality of communities and how they relate to wider society. Such experiential hermeneutics might inspire new models of practical Islamic theologies, capable of guiding practitioners in the applied fields of education and social work.

Religion, like the rest of human experience, is not free from ambiguity. As a powerful source of identity, religion can give rise to conflict, particularly when it enjoys political power and when religious identity disintegrates. Today, much of the violence committed in the name of Islam can partially be attributed to the reality of insecure Islamic identities seeking to retrieve long-lost imperial power and dignity in the face of daily experienced helplessness. The claim propagated chiefly by Orientalists like B. Lewis (1990) that Islam presents an exceptionally violence-prone religious culture has not been supported by empirical studies (Mabry, 2015; Fish, 2011). Contemporary Muslim societies have failed to nurture a democratic culture but there appears to be no fundamental difference between autocrats in Muslim states and those in non-Muslim states.

Religion can also be a powerful humanising force. Recent empirical studies demonstrate that religious affiliation has consistently predicted higher scores on measures of prosociality, altruism and public service (Neusner & Chilton, 2005). The latest psychological and sociological literature continues to demonstrate the social relevance of religion in contemporary western societies (Francis & Ziebertz, 2011; Trigg, 2008). The once taken-for-granted theory that equated modernisation with inevitable secularisation has long lost its empirical appeal (Berking et al., 2018). As Berger (2014) argues, increasing social pluralisation expressed as a diversity of religious and non-religious worldviews has been unfolding. The presence of religious communities in large European cities is being recognised as pointing towards a new urban, post-secular social condition (Nynäs et al., 2012), an observation first made by J. Habermas (2008). However, there are also renewed debates over whether ‘public religion’ can limit itself to social volunteerism contributing to the common good or harm in resisting plurality and liberal values of modern Europe where religion, especially Islam, has already been associated with violence and extremism.

The Common Good in Culturally and Religiously Plural European Societies

The European Enlightenment, part of overcoming centuries old European intra-religious warfare which ended with the famous Peace of Westphalia in 1684, promoted the value of tolerance, in an effort to contain sectarian conflict and ensure the freedom to practise religion, as well as freedom from religion, within its broader narrative of secular modernity. The value of tolerance was powerful enough to lay the foundations for new European constitutions (Classen, 2018). However, as Hollenbach (2002) argues, the notion of common good implies dimensions of mutual respect, trust and, above all else, interrelatedness, that are not present in the notion of tolerance. Serving the common good requires communities to develop enough mutual trust to share a vision of a good society. Habermas’ theory of ‘communicative action’ argues that the public sphere in democratic societies is where individuals and groups, representing diverse worldviews, can come together to freely discuss common problems. Faith communities, like other interest clusters, might put aside their theological differences and join forces to act as unified, civic pressure groups. Through such inclusive discussions, related to the practical realities of everyday life, and living together they can produce political action for the common good.

Habermas’ theory is rooted in the progressive values of the European Enlightenment and adopts Marxian features. As such, it is often argued (Bowen, 2016) that while the theory accommodates religion(s) in the secular public space, it also expects them to translate their traditional self-understandings into a universalist liberal language of intelligibility. This can be seen as an implicit secularisation demand, if not an unconscious Eurocentric bias. However, Habermas argues that mutual trust and understanding(s) emerge out of communities’ everyday practical interactions, requiring them to go beyond their particular identity politics in favour of preserving the common good. Habermas’s theory is based on the belief that the human capacity for rationality can facilitate intersubjective communication; an occasion for “ideal speech”, debate and dialogue in arriving at consensus(es) for taking collective actions to promote social justice. Habermas locates rationality as a capacity inherent within language, especially in the form of public debates expressing views on issues that concern the wider public. His conception of rationality goes beyond the confines of an instrumentalist scientific rationalism. It is framed as an expression of the human communicative power of language, which reflects what ancient philosophers called rhetoric, the art of persuasion, facilitating relational good and practical refinement or wisdom (phronesis), recognised in classical Muslim education as balāgha and ḥikma, competence for eloquent, intelligent speech and conduct.

The exclusion of minority voices in the public sphere and the inequalities they experience are recognised as a challenge in Habermas’ theory. A life with dignity requires recognition for one’s contribution to socially shared goals and one’s equal status within the society. As far as Europe’s minority faith communities are concerned, the forces of mistrust can be traced back to the aftermath of War World II. The early twentieth century mass population movements have occurred as a natural outcome of the workforce needs of a rapidly expanding global capitalist market. European powers mostly turned to their ex-colonies to fill the labour shortage. However, migration has gradually gained a ‘racial, cultural and religious turn’, going well beyond its initial economic focus. This has led to sociopolitical discontent in the so-called host societies, often expressed as racial and religious exclusion. Minorities have begun to experience life in what can be described as a perceptual state of liminality (Turner, 1974) i. e., anxiety, ambiguity and disorientation. A synchronic analysis reveals the dynamics of a specific historical period, such as the post-war migration and settlement of Muslim communities in Western Europe or the painful memories of European colonialism, behind the emergence of such an experience of liminality (Pugh, 2019). A more diachronic analysis, revealing how inequalities experienced across minority communities have, over time, gained a systemic character, is needed to fully understand the impact of the persisting racial and religious marginalisation in contemporary Europe. More recently, the mismanagement of migration from newly admitted EU member states and the economic recession of 2008 have triggered a wave of new nationalist populism formed around the ‘othering’ of migrants, particularly Muslims, who are increasingly stereotyped as ‘Islamists’ holding an intransigent political ideology (Islam) that needs policing (Abbas, 2018). For Example, the UK Prevent legislation has been expanded to traditionally non-security areas such as child-protection, family law and education (Ahdash, 2020). European security policies continue to focus more on Islamic radicalism and less on far-right extremism.

Relational Ethics and a Convergent View of the Common Good

Human autonomy, literally self-rule, remains a critical issue in contemporary philosophical discussions on moral agency. The perception of autonomy as the rational capacity of self-mastery, symbolised by the philosophies of Descartes and Kant, is often criticised as a male-coded concept shaped by the atomistic, rights-bearing privileged “white” European individuals (Oshana, 2006). The notion of relational autonomy has been proposed (Mackenzie, 2019) as an alternative, stressing that persons are socially-embedded beings with intersecting identity markers of gender, ethnicity, class and religion. In phenomenological tradition, human autonomy is perceived as an embodied agency articulated out of a world of relatedness to a body and a contextual, intersubjective processes of unfolding. Phenomenologically considered, ethical agency emerges out of this relational and dialogical character of human existence and a moral demand intrinsic to other persons (Ricoeur, 1992; Smith, 2012; Mensch, 2003).

The lived reality of communities in a racially, culturally and religiously plural Europe points towards a moral dissonance in meeting liberal ideals. This is not to invoke Humean moral scepticism, but contemporary plural societies present an ethical dilemma which calls into question how diverse communities find recognition, experience respect and develop a sense of belonging in secular multicultural societies. A rigid interpretation of the secular, secularism, could imply an exclusivist perspective that struggles to deal with diversity and to facilitate a fair common ground in public space. Such a position may even deem religions to be irrelevant in public life. There is also a tension between promoting individual flourishing and protecting the social common good in secular polities, where a sharp distinction between the private and public realms of life is often observed. Rawls (2001) argued that the pluralism of contemporary Western secular societies makes it impossible to envision a social good on which all can agree. Rawls does not seem to consider that the everyday practical reality of a shared social life can naturally generate knowledge of the common good.

MacIntyre (1994, 2007) draws attention to the fact that post-enlightenment Western moral philosophy has roots in the discussions on ‘good life’ which originated in ancient Greek philosophy, at the expense of ignoring Europe’s faith-based ethical traditions. MacIntyre, by adopting neo-Aristotelian virtue ethics, suggests returning to a narrative-shaped tradition theory of morality, illustrated by Christian virtue ethics. Aristotle argued in Nicomachean Ethics (1976) that a good life is one devoted to the pursuit of good purposes. A good life is also oriented toward goods shared with others. Virtue (arete, excellence or fulfilment) was perceived as a habitual disposition to do good. The practice of virtue and wisdom (phronesis) has a relational goal (telos). In Plato’s dialogues (Cooper, 1997), Socrates is depicted arguing for the need to turn guardians into the future rulers of the city, through a complex system of education to form their character so that they serve the common good as if it were their very own. For him, the real goal was to establish an ordered, just regime within oneself first. Socratic education is not just meant to educate civic rulers, but also to educate humans to be excellent rulers of themselves within a just society where the common good is served. This practical virtue ethics of “moderation, courage, wisdom and justice” shaped medieval moral thought, including Muslim thinkers’ perspectives on ethics.

For example, the ancient Greek idea of eudaimonia (happiness, human flourishing, prosperity) was formed around an individual sense of goodness (Lafollette, 2014). Naturally, the religious eudaimonia focused on active participation in a life of community. Muslim philosophical schools, and to some extent theological traditions, as part of their critical reception of ancient Greek thought, developed an Islamic view of eudaimonia. Al-Farabi (d. 850) in his Attainment of Happiness (taḥṣīl al-saʿāda), modelled on the Republic of Plato, promotes political moderation in a time of sociopolitical and sectarian conflicts and argues for the need to form a virtuous society where the common good is served (Parens, 2006). Al-Farabi’s work (1995) seeks to educate young and politically ambitious Muslims to temper their desire to spread the truths of Islam through a jihad of military expansionism, by pursuing a jihad of truth spreading and living by the truth. For him, seeking happiness (saʿāda) is linked with the pursuit of the common good and achieving a virtuous society (al-madīna al-fāḍila). Similarly, friendship was a favourite theme within the humanistic (insāniyya) discourse of the Muslim philosophers and theologians such as Ibn Miskawayh (d. 1030) and Abu Hayyan al-Tahwdi (d. 1023). The latter wrote a distinctive work on friendship (ukhuwwa), rearticulating the Aristotelian concept of philia (friendship) within a wider Islamic perception of the human self and the other. Ancient Greek and Persian moral thought had a profound impact on Muslim ethical traditions. It is important to note that classical Islamic works on ethics, like their inherited Greek and Persian counterparts, often exclude women and assume the moral subject to be an elite male.

The Islamic tradition preserved the Greek idea of eudaimonia but often gave it a distinctive Islamic idiom by using Qurʾanic ethical vocabulary such as faḍl, divine grace, and iḥsān, excellence, kindness, generosity and ʿadl, justice. However, women appear to be excluded from this Qurʾanic egalitarian ethics. Al-Isfahani (d. 1108), whose work (1985, 116–118) will shortly be discussed, suggested limitations in female moral agency as “the social status of women require exhibiting an inferior version of the virtues which reach their peak in man (muruwwa/manliness)”. He immediately recognises this contradicts the Qurʾan’s gender inclusive notion of humanity and its egalitarian moral ethos (Q 49:13)Footnote 1 and tries, rather unconvincingly, to justify his apparently self-contradictory position on the issue. The pursual of a good life in Islam is also tied to fulfilling one’s obligation (taklīf) which is rooted in a novel juridical concept i. e., the rights that humans and God possess (ḥuqūq Allah/ʿibād). This legalistic rights approach, prioritising the value of justice was given a moral sense by promoting virtue as self-care (tazkiyya/riʿāya). Overall, a more personalist and relational perception of human moral agency seems well-founded in Muslim core sources (Al-Halbabi, 1969). The prophetic traditions emphasise the significance of personal intentions (niyya) in human conduct and cultivating a sense of personal moral autonomy and responsibility. When asked to define “goodness and sin” the prophet was reported to have simply said “search your hearts rather than seek a legal opinion (fatwā)”, highlighting the significance of personal moral consciousness in human life.

It is often assumed that there is no exact cognate for ethics in the Islamic intellectual tradition (Bucar, 2018). The legal concept of fiqh is suggested as exhibiting moral connotations, as it regulates human behaviours. Some do mention that moral issues are dealt with in the domains of akhlāq (morals), taṣawwuf (spirituality), falsafa (philosophy), kalām (speculative theology) and adab (etiquette). Nearly all ignore approaching Shariʿa as source of Muslim ethics. The interpretation of Shariʿa as law, the Divine commandments backed by the threat of punishment, has led to an assumption that it promotes a simple transactional ethics of reward and punishment.

Even the depiction of God in the Qurʾan could be perceived as a fearful judge. An original study (Rahbar, 1960) exploring the principal motive of good conduct in the Qurʾan, argues that the Qurʾanic God can best be described as God of Justice. The Qurʾan upholds the human capacity for freedom as evident in its formulae of connecting faithfulness with doing good (ʾāmanū wa ʿamilū aṣ-ṣāliḥāt) (Hourani, 1985). An early human freedom-centred Islamic ethics is exemplified by the muʿtazila, a rationalist school of Islamic theology that flourished during the eighth to tenth centuries. Muʿtazila theologians showed tendencies of ethical objectivism and a natural law perspective that are justified by appealing to God’s creation of a good, beneficial world. They argued that the natural value of justice needed to be observed by God and humans equally. However, in Rahbar’s (1960) exceptionally rigorous study, God emerges as a stern, legally-minded deity who does not act arbitrarily but is incapable of love and intimacy with humanity. The study overlooks the moral qualities embedded in God’s names (al-ʾasmāʾ al-ḥusnā) and the ethics of mutual recognition and care informing the Divine-human relations revealed by the central description of God in the Qurʾan as al-Rabb; the Educator, Nourisher and Guide par excellence. A key ethical concept of the Qurʾan, taqwā, is erroneously associated in this work with a fear of God rather than with the moral awareness of self, others and the Divine (Rahman, 1983).

Asad (1986) invoked the notion of ‘tradition’ à la MacIntyre to deconstruct perceptions of Islam within secular modernity. Asad advises western anthropologists to take the idea of tradition, or more accurately, “discursive tradition”, seriously when studying Islam. He tries to overcome the “essentialist” and “nominalist” dichotomy in defining Islam and argues that a practice becomes Islamic because it is authorised by the discursive traditions of Islam and backed up by shared communal practices. He does not elaborate but, as will be discussed shortly, early Islamic epistemology, before the encounter with Hellenistic thought, was shaped by dynamic, contextual hermeneutics, where textual authority was mediated through sound reason (ijtihād), consensus building (ijmaʿ), customs (ʿurf), and taking into account the needs of a changing society (istiṣlaḥ). Such an open-ended interpretative epistemology leaves ample room for new contextual expressions of being Muslim to emerge from a dynamic living tradition.

Asad and MacIntyre seem to show a conservative reactionary attitude to secular modernity. Appealing to the notion of tradition can increase self-confidence among faith communities, but it does not necessarily empower them to engage and to be part of a common good formed within the diversity of modern world. Today, the increasing presence of religion in the public sphere requires religious communities to reflect upon their normative religious structures and not simply to insist on their mere preservation, if an open dialogue with the wider society is to be possible (Casanova, 1994). Public religions, including Islam in secular polity, are better served if they bring their moral teachings to bear on issues of civic space and contribute to the emergence of an inclusive common good.

What Is Relational Ethics?

Ethics or moral philosophy is a branch of philosophy that explores what constitutes right or wrong, virtue or vice. It is closely related to discussions of axiology and aesthetics, as well as to moral psychology and theoretical discussions on values. The terms ethics and moral philosophy can be understood differently. Ethics, particularly in Aristotelian sense, refer to a teleological concern i. e., character formation and good life, while morality may mean obligations and norms governing actions. The study of ethics is usually carried out in three distinctive aspects: metaethics, where truth in moral propositions is examined; normative ethics, related to the principles of ethical decision making; and applied ethics, which is concerned with the application of moral values in life. The most common ethical theories are consequentialist, deontological and virtue-based theories. A consequentialist theory suggests that an action is morally permissible if it maximises overall goodness. Consequentialist theories are specified according to what they take to be intrinsically good. For example, classical utilitarianism considered intrinsic goodness to be happiness and pleasure (Lafollette, 2014). In the deontological perspective, associated with Kant, the emphasis is placed on individual duty. Kant argued that dignity is a kind of intrinsic worth inherent in rational individuals who set their goals according to certain universal maxims. Thus, acting rightly requires being motivated by universal principles that treat everyone with respect. The divine command theory is considered deontological, in that an action is right if God has decreed it.

The concept of relational ethics, proposed in this inquiry, is grounded in the relational and dialogical nature of human existence discussed above. The moral obligation resides in the call to respond to the relationality defining the human condition. An influential form of a relational ethics where moral normativity is grounded in the ethical demand of the other is offered by E. Levinas. Levinas’ (1979, 1990) ethical theory originates in a critical dialogue with phenomenology and his faith heritage, Judaism. Levinas’s thinking is couched in phenomenological method and integrates rabbinic exegetical-interpretative features. Levinas, after breaking away from Heidegger and his phenomenology of Being, which Levinas once admired, identified ethics to be the foremost concern of philosophy rather than epistemology or metaphysics. The phenomenological reflection in the early works of Husserl on ethics was dominated by axiological discussions and acts of feeling, where objects are assigned values as likes and dislikes. Husserl later moved towards examining the intersubjective and social aspects of moral life (life-world) (Drummond & Embree, 2002). However, Levinas is the chief figure in advancing a phenomenological analysis that grounds ethics in the obligating presence of the “other”. The other symbolises the phenomenological feeling of an ethical relationship. He developed a philosophy of subjectivity, paradoxically defined within the framework of responsibility for the other. His work challenges philosophies that seek to “totalise” (reduce) otherness into sameness, by apportioning difference into pre-established characteristics, properties, and categories. Levinas shows how the ‘infinite’ can be interpreted as involved in “finity” but without becoming “finity” (objectified). He draws on the metaphors of the human-divine encounter depicted in the Hebrew Bible, which overwhelms the human thinking faculty and reveals fundamental human fragility and limitations. The encounter with a human “other”, is likened to the spiritual encounter with the “Divine Other”. He argues that when the self is true to itself, it is nothing but a response to the other.

Levinas engaged with Jewish sources through a series of Talmudic readings, combining the insights of western philosophy with rabbinic interpretive methods. His hermeneutic strategy takes the textual legacy of his faith tradition and contemporary intellectual discourses seriously. The aim of exegesis is to extract the universal from the apparent particularism of the tradition. In Levinas’ relational ethics, the concept of “alterity” (otherness) plays a significant role. Alterity does not refer to mere difference or otherness, but to an irreducible sense of singularity and subjectivity that needs to be recognised and responded to. Levinas’ perception of singularity lies in his understanding of transcendence, which reflects his critical engagement with Husserlian phenomenology. The transcendence of the other does include an embodied, worldly, immanent presence. This opening of transcendence within the immanence of being makes possible a relationship with the other which is not reducible to an objectification. Paradoxically, it becomes a “relationship without relation”, in which the other is greeted or received without becoming assimilated into known categories. This points towards an ethics of hospitality in which intra-human relations such as education and social work become humane and empowering. Welcoming the other as oneself facilitates a natural pedagogic desire to learn from the other (Todd, 2008), which in Muslim education is expressed by the concept taʿāruf, “openness to learning from one another” (Sahin, 2017).

In Totality and Infinity, Levinas (1999) argues that the concept of responsibility is not based on a demand for ethical justification issued once and for all, but a continually renewed covenant in living encounters with every stranger. Levinas uses the symbol of the “face of the other” to illustrate the other’s resistance to comprehension and assimilation. In the Hebrew Bible, ‘face’ represents the presence of God (Isaiah 63:9), a depiction also found frequently in the Qurʾan (Q 18:28). The face cannot be described or represented (objectified), since it is not a phenomenon with particular qualities, but rather depicted as a horizon, where relations become meaningful. Face is not a mere abstraction or mystical apparition but symbolises a deeper ethical recognition of living in the presence of an irreducible other. The face is discursive more than visual; it commands the individual to respond to the call from the other.

However, Levinas’ philosophy may come across as inherently apolitical and quasi-mystical (Wolin, 2008). The question of the political is seen as consistently troubling Levinas’s thought (Caygill, 2002; Critchley, 1999). There is always a tension between ethics and politics in a world where violence against the other, or by the other, remains a reality. The other can cause injustice and commit the violence of ‘othering’ by marginalising people unlike her or him. The real task is how to establish an ethical awareness that is capable of upholding dignity and holiness in the humanity of one’s vulnerable neighbour. Relational ethics requires replacing tribal self-understandings shaped by mutually exclusive in- and out-group selfish interests with a willingness to be ‘critically faithful’ (Sahin, 2017) to one’s identity, so that injustice caused by one’s own self or community to other(s) can be acknowledged and addressed. Levinas insists that responsibility pre-supposes response. The real ethical danger is not where responsibility is rejected in scepticism but where it is ignored in an apathy of moral blindness (Perpich, 2008). In his Talmudic reflections, Levinas (1990) considers the experience of the Exodus, led by Moses to the Promised Land, which turned into a nightmare of 40 years of desperate wandering in the desert. It appears that Moses’ followers decided to enter the land with violence and without respect for the native population living there, naively assuming the unconditional approval of God for their invasion of the other’s homeland. They even started to deviate from the Divine commandment to worship God alone (the Golden Calf episode) and to observe justice. As a consequence of their transgression, the Israelites, God’s ‘treasured people’, were no longer ‘permitted’ to enter the ‘promised’ land until they reflected on their wrong doings and changed themselves.

Islam and Judaism are often considered as religions of law. However, scholars suggest that Judaism in its biblical stage did not seem to have been a law-based tradition. J. Kugel (2007) points out that the great figures of Judaism, Abraham and Moses, are not depicted in the Bible as observing any law or ritual. Furthermore, it appears that the origins of the Mosaic covenant reflect the structure of the suzerainty treaties of the ancient world agreed between a powerful state and its smaller vassal states. The concept of humans being created in the image of God (imago dei) in the Bible, which does not occur in the Qurʾan, appears as such to be a borrowed metaphor from the widely circulated ancient political culture in Mesopotamia, where kings were often depicted in the images of their deities. It is possible that the Qurʾanic depiction of human distinctiveness with the word khalīfa/khalāʾif, God’s representatives and stewardship on earth (Q 2:34), has roots in the imperial imagination of the Near East. In the Hebrew Bible, God demands that Israel be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation (Exodus 19:6). Kugel argues that a significant implication of being a holy nation was that all people needed to observe the rituals and commandments of God. In Christianity, law was superseded by Divine love. Paul saw law as having the function of pedagogues (not to be confused with today’s use of the word as teachers), who in antiquity were usually slaves and looked after children (Young, 1987). With the arrival of Christ, Paul argued there was no longer a need for a primitive protective measure such as law. In Muslim tradition, Shariʿa integrates law, ethics and spirituality. Bearing the knowledge of Shariʿa is not intended to be merely having legal expertise but embodying moral, spiritual authority and guidance.

Shariʿa as Relational Ethics

The word Shariʿa in Arabic refers to a path that leads to a spring vital for human survival. Its frequent use in the Qurʾan would have immediately attracted the attention of seventh century Arabs familiar with desert life. Such a pedagogic use of language is a significant aspect of the Qurʾan’s rhetorical discourse, deliberately employed to provoke human imagination. Similarly, the evidence-based thinking in the Qurʾan is expressed with the word istinbāṭ – literally searching for water i. e. evidence (Q 4:83). As a technical religious concept in the Qurʾan, Shariʿa symbolises a pattern of meaning humans need to form around certain core values for life (i. e. ethics) (Q 42:13). Shariʿa secondarily refers to rules and regulations (Q 5:48) recognised as fiqh/aḥkām that classifies acts and duties of Muslims into categories of farḍ/wājib (obligatory), makrūh (disliked), mustaḥabb (recommended), and ḥarām (forbidden). Shariʿa has two interrelated dimensions: the divine-human relationship, consisting of a vertical axis of serving God and a horizontal axis of intersubjective, intra-human conduct, serving God’s people. The former (ʿibādāt) is recognised as the domain of God’s rights and the latter (muʿāmalāt) as the domain of individual and public human rights.

Shariʿa is related to the central Qurʾanic concepts of religion (dīn), human nature (fiṭra) and a deep sense of moral obligation (taklīf). The word religion, dīn and religiosity (tadayyun) in Arabic, are interwoven with meanings of leading a “reflective, accountable life of gratitude, justice and care”. Dīn/tadayyun is the natural expression of meaning-making and lifestyle forming feature of human nature (fiṭra), and Shariʿa is a distinctive path ordained by God (Q 5:48, 45:18) with boundaries (ḥudūd) (Q 2:229, 58:4) to facilitate achieving wellbeing and prosperity (falāḥ) in this world and the world to come. Adopting the divinely sanctioned straight path, dīn qayyim (Q 6:161), a balanced religiosity must be based on individual consent as “religion” is considered to be nothing but sincere counsel (naṣīha). Interestingly, the concept of obedience, ṭāʿa, in the Qurʾan literally means engaging in a reciprocal relationship and taking a decision freely, hence, willingly entering into a dialogue with God through responding to the Divine call (taklīf) (Q 3:83). The Qurʾanic word for volunteering, taṭawwuʿ, comes from the same verbal root: “whoever does an act of goodness voluntarily, God will show His gratitude by rewarding the person.” (Q 2:168, 9:53) Furthermore, the words for creation (khalq) and moral character (akhlāq/khuluq) share the same etymology and are semantically linked to the concept of religion (dīn), all have the meanings of measure, esteem and discernible, balanced conduct. Humans are created with an innate capacity of forming a moral character and a way of life or custom (religion/dīn) (Q 26:137). Muhammad in the Qurʾan is depicted as having a sublime moral character (khuluq ʿaẓīm 68:4) (being on a distinctive path or custom/life style i. e. dīn) (Al-Isfahani, 2009).

The Qurʾan is aware that there are diverse human lifestyles where God may not be recognised but more significantly that there could be extreme and corrupt interpretations of the Divine path leading to the formation of unhealthy religiosities (tadayyun) (Q 4:171, 5:77). Similarly, empathy with the other is a crucial dimension of the Islamic sense of being religious. The poor have the right to share in the wealth of the rich, the obligatory zakāt, literally purification and growth. Zakāt that purifies one’s wealth is an integral part of individual piety and self-development (tazkiyyat an-nafs). Human dignity in the Qurʾan is expressed with karāma and khilāfa (stewardship of earth). Karāma has meanings of being generous, welcoming, free and noble, showing ethical conduct. Finally, the Qurʾan recognises that the embodiment of Shariʿa in life will necessarily be context-dependent, reflecting individual differences and social conditions. Therefore, it acknowledges the inevitable diversity in the historical applications of Shariʿa (Q 5:48, 45:18) and its universal values. As the social context of Muslim communities changed, Muslim scholars reinterpreted core Muslim teachings.

In Islam, the formation of the first faithful community (ʾumma) and completion of the Divine revelation are considered co-temporal. This historical experience has shaped a distinctive Islamic perception of what constitutes a sacred scripture and how it should be interpreted. Muslim belief that the Qurʾan is literally Divine speech, has erroneously led to the conclusion that this necessarily implies a literalist perception of scripture. On the contrary, the prophetic and early Muslim attitude towards the Qurʾan shows more dynamic and contextual interpretative features (Sahin, 2013). The interpretation occurs in the text itself since parts of the scripture explain other parts (intra-textual hermeneutics). The Qurʾan emphasises that human reason cannot exhaust all the meanings and wisdom embedded in the Divine word (Q 18:109, 31:27). The original intended authorial meanings cannot always be traced backed to an objectified, literal meaning, hence the human interpretive act, taʾwīl (tracing the origins), remains polyvocal and future orientated taking into account the changing life conditions of the communities.

A central task of the prophet was to explain the Qurʾan to its first audience which has a normative function in Muslim tradition. The prophet embodies the Divine message in real life. Thus, his prophetic conduct, sunna, became a wisdom tradition, acting as guide to all aspects of Muslim life. The sunna, originally transmitted orally, came to be written down as reports, Hadith. The Qurʾan and the prophetic sunna remained open to new interpretations (ijtihād). The interpretation of Islam by the first generations, through adopting a consensus-based decision-making process, is also considered normative, worthy of emulation. Most of the legal edicts in the Qurʾan are often qualified with an ethical alternative i. e. ‘an eye for an eye’, retributive justice, is moderated by restorative justice, encouraging the victim to forgive the offender or accept a monetary compensation. Moreover, as circumstances changed, the legal positions were revised by abrogation or, as the second Caliph Omar famously did, by suspending some of the scripture-based laws. Unlike later Muslim hermeneutics that saw Islam mainly from the prism of law, early Islamic interpretative engagement had an ethical, contextual focus. This has enabled growth and development within the Muslim living tradition through a progressive agenda of continuous social reform toward realising the Qurʾan’s ethical demand of forming a compassionate, just society (Rahman, 1995).

This rather egalitarian interpretive attitude can be seen in the Islamic perception of community, ʾumma, as an inclusive polity responding to the reality of plurality in the city where Islam gained its first social expression. The famous ‘Medinah Pledge’ (622), led by the prophet, envisioned an inclusive civic polity that contained diverse faith communities and aimed to safeguard the wellbeing of all. The Qurʾanic concept of “people of the Book” indicates recognition of the religious other. However, it is often forgotten that prophetic traditions also emphasise the notion of “God’s people” (ʿiyāal Allah), a more inclusive category that is open to the non-religious other. Thus, within the first city where Islam emerged as a social reality, the public space was used to facilitate peaceful coexistence. This seems to have shaped the prophet’s style of leadership, as he is reported to have said “a person’s goodness lies in her or his willingness to be part of a community or to bring people together as a community”.

The fundamental ethical logic that permeates the Qurʾan can be summarised as follows: God, by virtue of gifting humanity with life, expects recognition and gratitude for this act of Divine generosity. Upon reflection, those who choose to acknowledge God’s favour and willingly express their gratitude by worshiping Him alone, became “faithful” (literally experience safety, trust). Existentially, faithfulness is tied to the ethical attitude of gratefulness i. e. engaging with a relationship of care and respect towards oneself and others, including the environment and the Creator. In Islam’s core narrative, the Divine-human relationship reflects a relational ethics of mutual recognition and cooperation for establishing justice on earth. The Qurʾan encourages meaningful debate, consensus building and taking into account the lived reality of the community. The early Islamic contextual epistemology shares some interesting features with Habermas’ (1990) debate, dialogue and consensus-centred theory of knowledge, and negotiating the common good within contemporary plural, secular societies. Within the Qurʾanic discourse there is a trust in human capacity to discover truth, good and bad, and engage with consensus building (ijmāʿ), essential for the survival and coexistence of communities. During the prophet-led formation of Muslim society, there seemed to have been a shared clarity on the basic ethical values necessary for communal wellbeing. There appear to have been few abstract theological discussions on what constitutes good (ḥusn) or bad (qubḥ) and whether Divine commands determine the nature of good or bad. This typical Hellenic way of framing moral discussions dominated medieval Muslim theological and philosophical discussions. In this sense, the prophet’s city, Medinah, should neither be confused with ancient Athens nor with the cosmopolitan medieval Baghdad. The Qurʾanic approach to social ethics seems to follow common sense and work through a consensus-based epistemology, where goodness or harm to society are clearly discernible without much metaphysical discussion.

The Danger of Reifying Shariʿa into a Body of Ahistorical Laws

Interpreting Shariʿa as relational ethics does not mean reducing Islam to the level of private morality, a charge levelled against postcolonial Islamic modernist reformism. Al-Isfahani (d. 1086), a well-regarded mediaeval Muslim scholar for example, offered educationally-informed ethical hermeneutics to discern the moral values of Shariʿa. His work, al-dharīʿa ilā makārim ash-sharīʿa (the means to achieving moral excellence and dignity of the divine path) (Al-Isfahani, 1985), articulates social ethics rooted in Qurʾanic anthropology. The book begins with a discussion on the human condition including its biological (ṭabʿ/fiṭra) givenness and its central ethical and educational character that individuals acquire within a given social context. Law is defined as an aid to moral agency and not the other way around. Al-Isfahani critically integrates elements of ancient Greek practical virtue ethics (phronesis) in formulating his version of Islamic relational ethics. The ethical character of Shariʿa was not recognised as an after-thought to a legal system but as shaping the very fabric of what it means to be a human being. He distinguishes between rules discerned from Shariʿa (aḥkām) and its core humanising moral ethos as makārim. The latter enables humans to develop an inner ethical competence guiding human transformation (tarbiyya) and qualifying humans for stewardship of the earth (khalifa) which signifies dignity (karāma) bestowed by God on humanity.

Classical Muslim legal scholars identified five rights that summarised the ultimate purpose of Islamic law (maqāṣid al-sharīʿa): protecting life, family, property, religion and the human reasoning capacity to preserve human sanity (Sahin, 2011). These aims are sometimes considered alongside a hierarchy of needs (i. e. essential, required and aesthetic) that individuals or communities exhibit. This metalegal discourse appears to have emerged from analysing the raison d’être of the laws (taʿīl al-aḥkām) and discerning (istiqrāʾ/istinbāṭ) the Divine intentions in the revelation. The preoccupation with authorial intentions seems to have led to text-focused legal interpretations, at the expense of the gradually disappearing earlier context-based hermeneutics evident in the hermeneutical approach of authoritative figures like Imam Malik (d. 795) who considered the entire experience of Medina, where Islamic society first emerged, as normative. Apart from the Zahiri school of thought, which limited textual engagement to its external sense only (the ẓahir), all other Islamic legal schools were in favour of discerning the objectives intended to protect human good by the scripture. Ibrahim al-Nakhaʿi (d. 717), an early legal authority (Qalʿajī, 1979) who advocated the use of reason while engaging with the Qurʾan, argued that “the Divine revelation demands to be reasoned with, in order to discern its objectives and wisdom, meant to protect human wellbeing”. Subsequently, the concept of the higher objectives of law was worked out by scholars until it was systematised by Izz b. Abdassalaam (d. 1262) and al-Shatibi (d. 1388). However, the ethics seem largely perceived as a complementary aspect (taḥsīniyyāt) to this overwhelmingly legal interpretative framework.

Today, the relational ethics integral to the concept of Shariʿa, have been eclipsed to such an extent that they are increasingly perceived, by Muslims and wider society, as a reified, ahistorical, rigid system of rules and regulations. Without reclaiming this human dignity-focussed relational ethics embedded in Shariʿa, pressing issues like gender-inequality and attitudes towards religious or non-religious others in the modern Muslim communities cannot be adequately addressed. The call for the application of Shariʿa becomes empty political rhetoric, completely disassociated from protecting human freedom, dignity, welfare and the common good. Even a distinctive socio-ethical principle enshrined in the Qurʾan, such as “enjoining good and preventing harm” to ensure public welfare is maintained can be reduced to an apparatus of inhumane control, as briefly exemplified by the totalitarian hysteria of the so-called Islamic State (IS).

The main shortcoming in the maqāṣid discourse lies in its legalistic framing and ahistorical application, which prevents it from acting at a higher critical ethical hermeneutics level. The actual determination of the good (maṣlaḥa) intended to be protected, is subject to numerous legal conditions (ḍawābiṭ) and focused on discerning the authorial intentions rather than recognizing the lived reality of the faithful. This legal perception of the maqāṣid is evident in the theological discourse of its early proponents. Al-Ghazali (d. 1111), one of the first formulators of the concept, for example, mostly invokes maqāṣid in its legal sense and often omits its ethical prerequisites. While trying to reconcile divine omnipotence and human moral responsibility, he does not seem to be particularly bothered with the apparent contradiction in saying that Shariʿa protects human reason (ʾaql) and yet severely curtails human agency and responsibility in producing moral actions. In his best-known work, iḥyāʾ, completed after an experience of spiritual transformation and synthesising his most mature understanding of Islam, Al-Ghazali largely abandons legalism in recapturing the holistic moral and spiritual guidance embedded in Shariʿa. Abu Bakr ibn Al-Arabi (d. 1148) in his Apologia (2001) (al-ʿawāṣim min al-qawāṣim), written to justify the innocence of all companions involved in the first civil war (fitna 656–661), and which fundamentally shaped the medieval Sunni quietist political theology until modern times, does not once raise the issue of justice or remember the Qurʾanic ethical principle: “killing an innocent soul amounts to killing all humanity.” (Q 5:32)

Similarly, the classical genres on ethics such as adab and the faḍāʾil (the excellences of rulers, judges) do not go beyond a well-crafted hyperbolic discourse. The ethical sense invoked by the concept of ʾadab originally meant a particular set of moral norms for a good life, cultivated by a class of literati in the context of Muslim court culture, and mostly remained an elitist pursuit which for commoners meant moral coercion (taʾdīb). Within the politically quietist and heavily legalistic Sunni piety and theological discourse, justice and ethics, two fundamental values of the Qurʾan, have often been marginalised. I. Güler (2011) offers a critical analysis as to how the Qurʾan’s human freedom and justice-focused ethics of care were eroded within the predestinarian Sunni theological discourse, originally designed to justify suppressing political dissent, which has contributed to cultural stagnation in modern Muslim societies. The encounter with western secular modernity pushed early Muslim reformists to stress the moral character of Shariʿa, through popularising the notions of maqāṣid and common good (maṣlaḥa) (Salvatore, 2009; Salvatore & Eickelman, 2005). However, the political motive of trying to reconcile Islam with secular modernity has often yielded to a secular temptation to simply abrogate the Qurʾan’s Medinan chapters, which cover complex sociopolitical issues.

The concept fiqh al-ʿaqalliyyāt, minority jurisprudence (Hassan, 2013), is an extension of a similar legal epistemology that does not actually help to contextualise Islam in the modern world. Some aspects of Islamic law (family law) are accommodated within secular legal systems of Europe (the UK’s common law) which, in varying degrees, acknowledge legal pluralism in order to accommodate minority communities’ claims to their own distinctive legal traditions when resolving family disputes. Accommodation of Shariʿa is now slowly happening in the areas of finance, family matters, and food industry. There are even Shariʿa courts, mostly acting as Muslim arbitration tribunals; and a European fatwā council overseeing an expanding ‘halalification’ industry. However, tensions between upholding the liberal principle of equality which informs secular democratic citizenship and the demand for recognition of difference in multicultural societies can cause conflict (Turner & Possamai, 2015). While analysing Muslim scholars’ legal response to issues affecting Muslim women in Britain, Larsen (2018) suggests that the maqāṣid discourse is similar to a secular, common morality. She seems unaware that fatwās are legal verdicts based on the premodern fiqh regulating female conduct. Maqāṣid and fiqh al-ʿaqalliyyāt do not seem to act as metaethical discourses. As legal concepts they reflect a wider medieval politico-legal idea that divides the world into the “abode of Islam” and the “abode of non-Islam”. Within such an imperial political framing, ahistorical approaches to the Qurʾan become dominant. Verses like “don’t take Jews or Christians as your friends” (Q 6:66) tend to be perceived literally, ignoring the contextual reality of war as the background of the verse that was extensively commented on, while other verses praising people of the book are not remembered. This ahistorical literalism ignores the Qurʾan’s rhetorical discourse and takes the complex politico-legal doctrine of al-walāʾwa-l-barāʾ, “disassociation from non-Muslims” to be a categorical ban on Muslim involvement with secular public space.

However, stripped of its legal shell, the notion of fiqh al-ʿaqalliyyāt could actually be a powerful theological concept; it literally refers to facilitating an understanding of Islam within the reality of being a minority community. This indicates a radical rethink of what it means to be a Muslim in the modern world, where Muslims no longer hold political power nor form a majority. In its legalistic framing fiqh al-ʿaqalliyyāt is limited to an ahistorical application of a particular school of thought’s jurisprudence on complex and sensitive issues of the contemporary world such as gender relations and social work; controversial issues such as the non-religious other, blasphemy and apostacy, which might cause more harm than benefit. This would even violate legal maxims in Islamic law suggesting “preventing common harm” (sadd adh-dharāʾiʿ) always has priority. What is more important is to carefully consider whether the application of specific, pre-modern fiqh rules enables the protection of human dignity embedded in the Islamic core narrative, while addressing contemporary issues and guiding Muslim communities’ relationships with wider society.

Conclusion

This inquiry emphasised the need to rediscover the relational ethics embedded in the concept of Shariʿa and its significance in facilitating a transformative Islamic engagement with the public space and contributing to the common good within the Muslim minority context of Europe. Shariʿa is further grounded in the holistic Islamic educational view of human flourishing, tarbiyya, that aims to facilitate a human formation characterised by gratitude, dignity and just living. The concept of relational ethics was discussed in a reflective dialogue with Levinas’ phenomenology-informed ethical philosophy and Habermas’s ‘theory of communicative action’.

The study argued the need for an inclusive public space where religious minorities are welcomed, without, fear of being stereotyped, policed or pressured to self-censure. The communicative process within the cultural and religious plurality of European societies cannot be limited to having mere conversations, often occurring between communities living parallel lives, but should also be producing concrete convergences in addressing inequalities, renewing public trust and working towards peaceful coexistence. The role of Muslim faith leaders in guiding their communities to take part in such a convergent public engagement, and thus facilitating a sense of belonging to the European Muslim ʾumma, is undeniable. European Muslim leadership education needs to equip young faith leaders to facilitate contextual understandings of Islam and to prepare them for working within a societal reality of great religious and cultural diversity and interdependence.

The political developments of the last two decades have hindered European Muslims’ openness to critically address their internal problems and to engage actively with wider society. In social work which addresses social deprivation and wellbeing issues, the level of public and community engagement does not seem to be either inclusive or transformative. There is an urgent need to conduct empirical research to understand the changing needs of Muslim youth, the impact of religious extremism, poverty, mental health, delinquency and intra-community tensions within the European Muslim diaspora. Cultivating the values of shared relational ethics remains an effective way of responding to the plurality defining European societies, generating awareness about the responsibility of “living the face of one another” and renewing public trust in forming an inclusive conception of the common good.