Prologue
In the vast body of
literature on the political developments along Russia's
southern border over the past decade, one cannot help
but be struck by the frequency with which
"Wahhabism" and/or "Wahhabi Islam"
is invoked by Western and Russian journalists,
academics, and political analysts as the principal cause
of troubles and political instability in these areas.
This is especially true of the Muslim areas of the
Northern Caucasus and Central Asia, although the
autonomous Russian republics of Tatarstan and
Bashkorstan also figure prominently in this regard.
Equally surprising is
the unanimity with which popular Russian and Western
journalism and academic studies depict the ongoing
Muslim resurgence in the former Soviet Union as a
life-and-death struggle between the "Sufi" and
"Wahhabi" versions of the Islamic religion.
These Islamic movements in the territory of the former
Soviet Union are frequently portrayed by both laymen and
experts as incompatible and mutually hostile
interpretations of Islam adopted by their adherents in
an attempt to fill the vacuum left by the implosion of
the Communist ideology and system of values. The
"Wahhabi-Sufi" confrontation is frequently
invoked in the public speeches of high ranking Russian
and Central Asian politicians, such as presidents
Karimov of Uzbekistan or Shaymiev of Tatarstan, who
never tire of invoking "Wahhabism" as a mortal
threat to the very existence of their countries.
Although many Western and Russian observers agree that
the activism of these "mutually opposed"
movements is a
response to the dire economic and social conditions of
the post-Soviet era and the ideological void created by
the collapse of official Marxism-Leninism, they
nevertheless tend to focus their analysis on the
religious premises of each group.
Let us review the ways
in which these axioms are construed by both Russian and
Western experts on Islam in the former Soviet Union.
Sufism
and Wahhabism Juxtaposed
The advocates of
"Sufism," according to many Russian and
Western commentators, promote a revival of
"traditional religiosity," that is, one that
integrates elements of "pre-Islamic" cultures,
beliefs and social institutions of the area with the
Islamic religion professed by its population. Known
collectively as "customary law" these
socio-cultural elements are seen as harking back to the
"pre-Islamic" local tribal and clan structures
as well as ancient belief systems such as, for instance,
the cult of local shrines, departed saints,
tribal/family ancestors, and sacred sites or objects.
These structures and beliefs, goes the argument, serve
local Muslims as powerful sources of identity and pride
vis-à-vis the Muslim community at large and the rest of
the world. Outside observers, as well as educated
representatives of local Muslim communities, routinely
identify these structures and beliefs with one or the
other version of Sufism without, however, providing any
solid historical evidence to substantiate their claims.
If we agree with this argument, we should acknowledge
that "traditional" or "Sufi" Islam
can serve as a natural vehicle of nationalist ideology.
While, according to most commentators and historians,
Sufism may, on occasion, become a means of Muslim mass
mobilization and armed struggle against internal or
external forces, its otherworldly, inward-looking
orientation usually outweighs its militant potential.
The
"Wahhabis," on the other hand, are usually
presented by political commentators, journalists and
commentators as supporters of the "pure" and
"authentic" Islam of the first Muslim
community at Medina, when it was led by the Prophet
himself and thus divinely protected from any error. In
line with this view, the chief goal of
"Wahhabi" ideologues is to restore
Islam to its primeval purity as they understand it. This
means, first and foremost, purifying it of
"alien," "non-Islamic" beliefs and
practices that have crept into the Muslim tradition in
the course of the thirteen centuries of its existence.
According to many
experts on "post-Soviet" Islam, the
"Wahhabis" identify the cult of local saints
and sacred objects, popular superstitions and adherence
to customary law in legal practice as gross
transgressions against "pure" Islam. These
must be eradicated by all means necessary, including
violence and coercion. While the "Sufi" party
is seen by most Western and Russian journalists,
political commentators, military analysts and academics
as more-or-less politically "benign" or even
"pacifist," the "Wahhabis" are
routinely portrayed as politically "activist,"
"fanatical" and prone to indiscriminate
violence against non-Muslims as well as any fellow
believers who disagree with their precepts.
"Wahhabism,"
A Rhetoric Of Fear
The descriptions of the supposed
conflict between "Sufis" and
"Wahhabis." are presented from a wide variety
of perspectives ranging from (at least outwardly)
objective to wantonly partisan . All of these different
analytical approaches to the
"Sufism-versus-Wahhabism" phenomenon have one
feature in common: even when differences between
regional manifestations of the "Wahhabi"
movement in Central Asia and the Caucasus are duly
acknowledged, their similarities are nonetheless deemed
sufficient to classify them as variants of a single
phenomenon.
Over the past ten years,
accounts in the contemporary Russian press and media
broadcasts of Muslim movements in the territories of the
former Soviet Union have grown increasingly negative.
One should, however, point out that negative attitudes
toward Islam and Muslims predated the collapse of the
Soviet Union. They were in evidence already in the early
1980s and were determined, in part, by the fear of a
global Islamic "explosion" in the aftermath of
the Iranian Revolution and the Soviet Army's debacle in
Afghanistan. On a more popular level these negative
perceptions were fed by the fear that Muslim ethnic
groups would soon "outbreed" the Russians to
become the majority population of the Soviet Union.
The negative tendency in
Russian public discussions of Islam and Muslims gained
further momentum after the dissolution of the Soviet
Union and the discrediting of the official Communist
notions of "internationalism" and the
"friendship of
nations." It is now an
"us-versus-them" situation, in which Russia's
new identity is routinely seen as determined first and
foremost from its allegiance to Orthodox Christianity.
The violent conflicts on the fringes of the former
Soviet Empire, especially in Nagornyi Karabagh and
Tajikistan, and later also in Chechnya and Daghestan,
have contributed to the already strong anti-Muslim bias
of Russian media outlets and, to a lesser extent,
academic publications. This process reached its peak
following the string of apartment complex bombings in
Moscow and South Russia in September 1999, and more
recently, the events of September 11 in the U.S. While
the alleged Muslim perpetrators of the former remain at
large, the overwhelming majority of Russians are
convinced that these tragic events were orchestrated by
the Chechen and Daghestani separatists led by their
field commanders Shamil Basaev and Khattab. This duo is
usually portrayed by the Russian media as rabid
"Wahhabis."
In light of the
protracted military conflicts in Chechnya, Afghanistan
and Tajikistan, the actual or imaginary Muslim
resurgence in Russia and its former satellites has come
to be seen by many Russians as a grave threat to
Russia's stability, if not to its very existence as a
sovereign "Christian" state. Occasional calls
from some Russian political analysts and commentators
not to exaggerate the "Islamic threat" and not
to paint all Muslims with the same brush have not
changed the overall negative view of Islam and its
followers among the Russian public at large. The war in
the former Yugoslavia, in which
NATO forces supported the Muslim Kosovars against
the Christian Serbs, was seen by many Russian public
figures as an act of betrayal of the
"Christian" cause by the wrong-headed members
of the Western military coalition. While most ordinary
Russians are not familiar with the Huntingtonian
"clash-of-civilizations" thesis, I have little
doubt that they would eagerly subscribe to it, as they
tend to see the recent and ongoing ethnic conflicts in
the former Soviet Union as driven by incompatible
religious and moral values.
The Russian Orthodox
Church has also contributed to the increasingly dim view
of Islam among the Russians. It has historically posited
itself as the sole legitimate guarantor of
"genuine" Russian cultural and moral values.
No wonder therefore that its present leadership is
innately suspicious of any religious denomination in its
traditional spheres of influence. In this connection,
one should point out that over the past decade the
influence of the Russian church has grown dramatically
at all levels of Russian society, including
policy-making bodies and the media. Despite their
lip service to religious tolerance, the leaders of the
Russian Orthodox Church from the patriarch down view
Islam as a dangerous and unwelcome rival, whose values
and practices are at odds with those of the majority of
Russians. To put this in perspective, they view the
Roman Catholic Church as an even more insidious enemy.
"Wahhabiam"
Is The Answer: An Intricate Intertwining Of Discursive
Strands
It is against the
background of this complex and unstable ideological
landscape that one should view the discussions of the
"Wahhabi" threat in the contemporary Russian
media. Many Russian journalists and media personalities,
including those who during the Soviet era had demonized
the Sufi brotherhoods of the Caucasus and Central Asia
by comparing them to clandestine Masonic organizations,
now see them as a "lesser evil" in comparison
to the "genuine and deadly threat" posed by
"Wahhabi fundamentalism." In line with the
principle "my enemy's enemy is my friend,"
former Russian critics of Sufism
now praise it as a more tolerant and therefore
acceptable version of Islam, whose emphasis on
individual freedom and spiritual quest and
self-perfection makes it compatible with the
construction of a new civil society in Russia.
Consequently, Sufism, according to many commentators,
should be encouraged and supported by the secular
authorities of the Muslim republics in order to
forestall the impending onslaught of the
"militant" and "retrograde" ideology
of Wahhabism.
The media campaign in
Russia aimed at demonizing the "Wahhabi sect"
gained further momentum in 1998, when several so-called
"Wahhabi" communities in Daghestan declared
their independence of the central authorities . Muslim
leaders of these villages proclaimed them to be enclaves
of shari'a legislation,
which were not subject to the "infidel" rule
of the secular government of Daghestan. The reasons for
the Daghestani uprising are complex and need not be
detailed here. What matters is that it was presented by
many analysts and politicians as the beginning of a
"Wahhabi" revolution that threatened to engulf
the entire Northern Caucasus and, potentially, Central
Asia as well.
The
anti-"Wahhabi" rhetoric in the Russian media
and analytical literature became particularly pervasive
in August-September 1999, when a Chechen-Daghestani
force led by Shamil Basaev and Khattab invaded Daghestan
allegedly under the pretext of helping their
fellow-"Wahhabis" in their unequal struggle
against the corrupt government of the Republic of
Daghestan and its Russian backers. The three Daghestani
villages which had proclaimed the rule of the shari'a
were attacked by Russian troops and Daghestani militia
loyal to the government, bombarded and eventually razed
to the ground. The
fierce resistance put up by their defenders, who were
routinely identified as Daghestani and Chechen
"Wahhabis," was attributed to their support by
militant Islamic organizations based in Saudi Arabia,
Kuwait, UAE, Yemen, Sudan, and Afghanistan.
"Wahhabi" ideas and practices disseminated
among the rebels by these organizations along with the
financial and logistical aid was cited by the Russian
media as the primary motivation and driving force behind
the hostilities in Daghestan and Chechnya. Following the
"liberation" of Daghestan from the
Basaev-Khattab troops the hostilities were transferred
to Chechnya. The alleged "meddling" of foreign
powers and organizations sympathetic to militant
"Wahhabism" offered the Russian military a
handy explanation of their humiliating defeat at the
hands of Chechen separatists in the 1994-1996 war.
This early failure and the current stalemate in
the Russo-Chechen hostilities, despite the initial
victories of the Russian army in late 1999-early 2000,
were conveniently attributed to the generous
ideological, financial and logistical support from
"Muslim terrorist organizations" based in
Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. Vague and usually
unverifiable references to elusive "foreign
detachments" led by "Wahhabi" commanders
from Saudi Arabia, the Gulf and Yemen abound in the
reportage of the second Russo-Chechen war, which is
closely censored by the Russian military command in the
Northern Caucasus.
From the very outset,
the secular post-Communist (some would say "neo-Communist") regimes of Central Asia and
of some North Caucasian republics of Russia have viewed
Islamic political activism as the greatest challenge and
the gravest of threats to their, for the most part,
authoritarian and oppressive rule. This perception on
the part of the new leaders of some Central Asian and
Caucasian republics springs from their lack of Islamic
legitimacy, which they try to overcome by paying lip
service to the (first and foremost) cultural and
scientific achievements of Islamic civilization and by
very cautious attempts to sponsor a moderate revival of
Islamic symbolism and educational institutions. Usually
these half-hearted gestures fail to placate their
Islamic critics both inside and outside their countries,
as such critics view them as insincere, cynical and
opportunistic. Faced with the criticisms of their
domestic policies by perceived or real
"Islamist" groups, the
"neo-Communist" rulers routinely couch their
rejoinders in an anti-"Wahhabi" idiom. The
critics are routinely condemned as "radicals,"
"extremists" and "terrorists" on the
payroll of foreign powers. The term
"Wahhabism" is deployed by the
"neo-Communist" rulers consistently and
indiscriminately against anyone who dares to raise their
voices against the inequities of their rule. These
verbal invectives are followed by ruthless suppression
of anything that can be interpreted as
"Islamist" opposition. One might venture a
guess that if "Wahhabism" had never existed,
presidents Karimov of Uzbekistan, Shaymiev of Tatarstan
and their colleagues in the Northern Caucasus would have
invented it. Or, perhaps, invent it they did?
Interestingly, the
anti-"Wahhabi" invectives in the Russian
secular media and in the public pronouncements of the
"neo-Communist" leaders are often reiterated
by the official Muslim clergy of the Russian Federation
affiliated with the so-called "spiritual
directorates" of various ethnic groups and regions
of the Russian Federation. Many of its representatives,
from the supreme mufti
down to the imam
of a local mosque, have gone on record as implacable
critics of "Wahhabi" tenets, which they
dismiss as contrary to the "traditional" Islam
of the Muslim communities in Russia. The rhetoric of the
Muslim officials is aimed at proving that
"traditional," "Sufi"-based Islam is
much better suited than "Wahhabism" to the
diverse and multi-ethnic society of the Russian
Federation, in which Muslims will remain a minority for
the foreseeable future. Even more vocally than Russian
journalists, representatives of the Muslim religious
officialdom of the Russian Federation emphasize the
"imported," "foreign" character of
"Wahhabi" Islam. This type of Islamic piety,
goes the argument, may have been indeed highly
appropriate for the uncouth Bedouins of Saudi Arabia,
who, at the time of Muhammad Ibn 'Abd al-Wahhab (d.
1792) were notorious for their religious laxity.
However, the strictures of Wahhabism are totally alien
to the Muslims of Daghestan, Tatarstan,
Kabarada-Balrakiia and other Muslim regions in Russia,
who are committed to religious and cultural pluralism
and tolerance. The "alien" nature of
"Wahhabi" radicalism to the spirit of
"Russian Islam" has found an eloquent
expression in the fact that the dress code for men and
women and comportment of the purported
"Wahhabis" of Russia are described as
"Arab." What can be better evidence of their
foreign roots?
While many Muslim
clerics of Russia agree in principle with the negative
view of "Wahhabism" espoused by secular
authorities, they, nevertheless, have so far refused to
approve the proposed ban on "Wahhabi" Islam in
the Russian Federation. The refusal to do so was
justified by Ravil Gainutdin(ov), chairman of the
Council of Russian muftis,
noting the vagueness of this category, which, in his
opinion, made it impossible to implement the ban in real
life. Although never openly stated, the reluctance to
endorse the ban reflected the apprehension on the part
of the religious leaders of the Russian Muslim community
that it could be used as a pretext for a state
crack-down on all "suspicious" Islamic groups,
Wahhabi or not.
As already mentioned, in
Russian academic and analytical literature, assessments
of "Wahhabism" vary considerably. In many
ways, they reflect the media and popular journalistic
portrayals of this phenomenon outlined above, although
Russian academics tend to provide far more details
pertaining to the history of the movement and its
position vis-à-vis other trends and schools of thought
in Islam. In dealing with the historical roots of
Wahhabism, Russian academics and political analysts
often question the usefulness of this term when applied
to actual Islamic political movements (commonly called
"Islamist") on the ground. Many prefer to use
the term "Salafism," which, in their view,
carries less historical baggage and is, moreover, often
used as a self-denomination of various Islamic political
parties and activist groups that are referred to as
"Wahhabi." In academic and analytical accounts
of Wahhabi/Salafi Islam conscientious attempts to gage
Wahhabism's potential to launch and sustain
anti-government and secessionist movements go
side-by-side with Marxist-style inquiries into its
social and economic roots. Dire predictions of the
alleged potential of "Islamic terrorism" to
undermine the very foundations of human civilization are
offset by dismissals of the popular fear of the
"Islamic threat," including that of
"Wahhabism," as unrealistic and overly
alarmist.
A similar lack of
unanimity marks Western academic studies of Islamic
political movements in the former Soviet Union and
worldwide. Here we find a wide array of strictly
negative assessments of "fundamentalist" Islam
in general and "Wahhabism" in particular, many
of which seem to have been inspired by, or elaborate
upon, Samuel Huntington's "clash of
civilizations" thesis. On the other extreme we find
studies that categorically deny any reality behind the
"Wahhabi myth" and dismiss it as an expression
of "traditional" Russian "Islamophobia."
One author even goes as far as to liken it to "the
old canard of Russian political paranoia about a
subversive conspiracy by Jews and Masons."
Conclusions
The goal of this
analytical survey was to examine how
"Wahhabism" has been deployed as an
explanatory category on various levels from popular
journalism to "serious" academic literature.
My preliminary analysis has shown that all levels of
discourse on Wahhabism are intricately interwoven and
engaged in ongoing dialogues with one another. While
this process may appear rather sophisticated, the end
result is not, in so far as most of the statements about
"Wahhabism" discussed here consistently seek
to reduce a wide range of diverse political, social and
religious phenomena to the lowest common denominator and
to come up with a simple and unproblematic explanation
of sometimes vastly different religious, social and
political phenomena.
In most of the
discussions outlined above, we witness the continual
elaboration and adjustment of the "Wahhabism"
explanatory model in response to events "on the
ground." Thus, any new violent action construed by
observers as being "Wahhabi" propels
"Wahhabism" further along the scale of
negativity, thereby reinforcing its image as
"public enemy number one" of the Russian state
and, by extension, of Western civilization as a whole.
For all its arbitrariness and vagueness, the word
"Wahhabism" has acquired, in the Russian
public mentality, sufficient explanatory power to
prevent it from being superceded by rival concepts, such
as "Islamism," "Islamic
fundamentalism," "political Islam," etc.
When any of these terms
are used, they are usually applied to Islamic movements
in the Middle East, South Asia or North Africa, while
their counterparts closer to home are routinely
presented as "Wahhabis" who are equally
opposed to secularism and "traditional" or
"Sufi" Islam. The term "Wahhabism"
is deployed in a wide variety of contexts, from press
releases of the Russian military command in Chechnya and
memoirs of Russian participants in the Russo-Chechen
conflict to journalistic coverage of the Russo-Chechen
hostilities to the public speeches of major political
figures. It is also widely used by the major figures of
the Muslim religious officialdom of the Russian
Federation and Russian academics, especially those
specializing in Islamic studies. In these varied
discursive contexts the term "Wahhabism"
acquires different connotations and is deployed with
various levels of sophistication to achieve different
ends. While the Russian military consistently use it to
explain the high casualties among Russian military
personnel in Chechnya and Daghestan and the Russian
Army's inability to achieve a decisive victory over the
Chechen separatists, representatives of the Muslim
clergy of the Russian Federation employ it to emphasize
their status as mediators between their congregations
and the Russian state.
As their colleagues
worldwide, Russian journalists pursue a wide array of
personal and professional goals, including the expansion
of their readership by means of playing on popular fears
and expectations. By all accounts, "Wahhabism"
is uniquely well-suited for this goal, as it allows the
dramatization of the conflicts on the southern fringes
of the former Soviet Empire by presenting them as
"a clash of civilizations" driven by
incompatible religious, moral and ethical values.
Finally, Russian political experts and Islamologists,
many of whom have been impoverished by the woes of the
Russian economy after Gorbachev's perestroika
and marginalized by a steep decline of the erstwhile
prestige of academic professions, see in
"Wahhabism" a welcome opportunity to showcase
their erudition to the public and to demonstrate their
usefulness for the powers-that-be, on whose largesse
they depend for their well-being.
Crude as this picture
may appear it helps to explain the ubiquitous presence
of "Wahhabism" in Russian discourse and in the
Russian public psyche. I would argue that in Russia
"Wahhabism" has effectively assumed the role
that "Islamic fundamentalism" plays in Western
discourses on Islam and Muslims. As in the West, it is
sustained by its vagueness of definition, which enable
it to explain a great number of seemingly unrelated
events world-wide in terms that are easily understood
(or misunderstood) by the average consumer of such
information.
I would argue also that
without these discourses "Wahhabism" would
have hardly acquired such a wide popularity among
certain segments of Muslim populations in the former
Soviet Union. Paradoxically, litanies of condemnation of
the "sinister plotting" of
"Wahhabism" which one hears daily from
oppressive and corrupt government officials, as well as
from military and political analysts and academics
associated with them seem to be achieving the opposite
effect. By exaggerating the magnitude of the Wahhabi
threat, the discourses analyzed in this paper contribute
to the appeal of "Wahhabism" to the
impoverished masses who are disgusted with rampant
corruption at high places, the disintegration of the
social security networks, staggering unemployment and
lack of any viable solutions to their problems. Through
the good services of the state apparatus, its media
outlets and academic institutions, "Wahhabism"
has become an attractive option for disgruntled elements
in the transitional societies of the former Soviet
Union. Many Muslims in Russia and its "near
abroad" construe its frequent invocation in the
media by academics, journalists, political and military
leaders as a sign of its inherent strength and
invincibility. Consequently, the more adventurous (or
perhaps more desperate) consumers of this information
decide to explore its practical implications. Their
oppositional activity couched in a religious rhetoric,
whether consciously "Wahhabi" or otherwise, is
then perceived by hostile outside observers as yet
another manifestation of the worldwide "Wahhabi
conspiracy." This perception, disseminated through
airwaves, printing presses, TV and the Internet, adds
another cycle in the spiral of the proliferation of
"Wahhabi" mythology. Once implemented in
practice, the narrative construct named
"Wahhabism" acquires a life of its own, at
which point there emerges the critical watershed between
those who bandy it around and those who stake their
lives on it.