The problem with codifying faith
By Basil Nabi Malik

IN 1947, Pakistan was an idea of a separate homeland for the Muslims of the subcontinent. It was arguably envisioned as secular in nature and for the protection of Muslims as well as the minorities.

The idea, however, ran parallel to the competing construct of Pakistan being a bastion of Islam and a home for devout Muslims. These were the popular slogans that were used to mobilise the public at the time of partition, and were extremely potent.

The two constructs unfortunately played out side by side, thereby raising a never-ending debate on the very purpose of establishing the country, and the role of its citizens.

This utter confusion is exemplified in the state of the legal system as well. The legal system revolves around certain pre-determined manmade boundaries inherited from the common law tradition, with half-hearted and sporadic attempts at codification of Islamic principles so as to bring the law more in sync with religious edicts.

However, in light of the state of confusion, the attempted codification of Islamic principles has given rise to issues which were perhaps never envisioned by those who desired to enforce religious injunctions through legislation.

Firstly, systems seeking to enforce religious principles usually underscore and utilise universally accepted strands that bind all members of their community together, for example, the proscribing of murder and theft as wrong, and rewarding of hard work and honesty as good.

Pakistan, on the other hand, has attempted to codify not the larger principles of Islamic law common to all divergent groups present, but rather disputed interpretations of certain aspects of religion which are a source of animosity and division amongst the community itself.

The insertion of legal provisions placing restrictions on Muslims and non-Muslims alike in the month of Ramazan, and prohibiting certain members of a religious group to call themselves Muslim, pray as Muslims, or even greet as such, are two examples.

Secondly, codification of religious law is a much trickier affair than regular legislation. This has to do with the perceived sanctity attached to manmade law attempting to encapsulate or mimic religious injunctions.

Simply put, in a society where dissent, discussions and intellectual debates in relation to anything religious are not tolerated or accepted, codification of religious law is bound to be contentious. In such communities, a person is less likely to raise his voice against or to correct any loophole, error, or contradiction in manmade legislation.

This is a result of the fact that laymen, and unfortunately even clerics, tend not to differentiate between legislation trying to codify religious injunctions, and the injunctions themselves. Because of this, amendments in such enactments to stem abuse become all the more impossible due to the legislation being given a status much higher than should ever have been intended.

Codification of Islamic principles has also unfortunately perpetuated and encouraged the use of religion for political gain and enhancing one’s power base.

Although quite subdued for the initial period after partition, invocation of religious sentiments was accentuated during the 1960s by religious parties attempting to increase their popularity amongst the masses.

In fact, most leaders, religious or otherwise, tended to rely on the codification of Islamic principles as a manner of shoring up political support. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto declared Ahmadis non-Muslims so as to strengthen his government politically, whereas Gen Ziaul Haq used the codification of Islamic principles to legitimise his rule.

Other leaders and parties also used religious codifications to muster public sentiment, show political muscle or to strengthen their bargaining position with the ruling elite. All in all, the codification of religious laws became a means to power rather than the reason to attain power.

Furthermore, the relegation of religious affairs to clerics has also left the arena open for possibly extreme and unchallenged interpretations of religious scriptures.

This in effect may lead to a situation where interpretations and opinions become more intrusive, abrasive, and less tolerant of one another, to the point that any dissent is considered sacrilegious.

In such a situation, where extreme viewpoints start gripping different communities, the majority community, rather than being inclusive, is inclined towards imposing its views by the strength of its numbers, and by virtue of codification.

The constitutional and statutory provisions declaring Ahmadis as non-Muslims would be an apt example of such a scenario.

Finally, the codification of religious edicts also has a lopsided effect on minority members of a community.

Although it is meant to give recourse to individuals so they do not take the law into their own hands, codifying divisive interpretations of certain aspects of religious scriptures in fact encourages members of society to dehumanise and separate the ‘other’ community from amongst themselves, thereby leaving them more vulnerable to attacks and victimisation than ever before.

In light of this, it is clear that codification of Islamic principles cannot be adequately undertaken without serious introspection and changes in society itself.

At the moment, Pakistan is caught between two worlds, unable to decipher the role it is to play in the world. It appears to want the codification of Islamic principles, however, within the safe predetermined parameters set by its inherited system. Furthermore, even in relation to codifying them, it is still unsure of the extent to which it wants to effect these principles.

In summation, Pakistan’s predicament is best described in the words of Kahlil Gibran, who stated that “the bird has an honour that man does not have. Man lives in the traps of his abdicated laws and traditions; but the birds live according to the natural law of God who causes the earth to turn around the sun”.

The writer is a lawyer.

basil.nabi@gmail.com

Twitter: @basilnabi