A bright, talented, and charismatic, but provocative and controversial, speaker, Farrakhan denounced the many causes of racism and poverty, and gave voice to the grievances of African Americans and other minorities, enhancing his stature even among those who chose not to join his organization. His Million Man March in 1995 appealed to a broad cross-section of Americans, including both Christian and Muslim leaders and organizations. At the same time, he remained controversial for his strident, separatist message, his anti-Semitism, and his international connections with militant leaders, such as those of Libya and Iran.

Farrakhan’s ability to make front page headlines, including the cover of Time Magazine, obscured the extent to which he and the NOI were a fringe, rather than mainstream, movement in the world of Islam in general and in the American Muslim community in particular. Although the Nation of Islam had far fewer members than Warith Deen Muhammad’s American Muslim Mission, Farrakhan’s persona and actions gave him and the Nation a disproportionate amount of name recognition and visibility. For many Americans, he was the voice of Islam as well as of specifically African American Islam. In the Q & A following a keynote address that I delivered at the launch of one of the first endowed Islamic Studies chairs in America, a Muslim American of South Asian background complained that media fascination with Farrakhan had led many Americans to believe that this aberrant sect represented orthodox Islam. A short time later, when a PBS program did a show on Muslim Americans, the lead reporter in a pre-interview was stunned when I pointed out to her that solely covering Farrakhan in her segment on African American Muslims was grossly misleading. She neither knew Warith Deen Muhammad nor was she aware that his following was exponentially greater than that of Farrakhan. Even though she reluctantly agreed to include coverage of Warith Deen, on the day of my interview she again asked for assurances of his importance.

In recent years, in terms of both numbers and recognition, Farrakhan and the NOI have become a marginal movement with little following or attraction among most Muslims globally as well as in the U.S., where the vast majority of African American or black American Muslims follows mainstream Islam. Although Farrakhan has signaled a desire to situate the NOI within mainstream Islam, and though he has introduced some changes to that end, the NOI’s belief system still contradicts many basic tenets of Islam.

Recently, Farrakhan has been almost invisible and silent, struggling with health problems and with a sharp decrease in the membership of the NOI. Given his past tendency, if not compulsion, to speak out on national and international issues and his success in capturing media attention, his recent endorsement of Muammar Qaddafi should come as no great surprise. For many years, he developed and emphasized connections with Africa and enjoyed Qaddafi’s friendship and financial support. His statement—“What kind of brother would I be if a man has been that way to me, and to us, and when he’s in trouble I refuse to raise my voice in his defense?”—may win the respect of die-hard supporters. However, many others, including past admirers, nationally and internationally, in the Muslim community and elsewhere, will see him as a man who has lost his moral compass by supporting and defending a tyrant who is slaughtering his people—women, children, and men.

For many Muslims, eight years of the Bush administration’s war against global terrorism has looked more like the use of terrorism, WMDs and then the promotion of democracy to legitimate a neo-colonial design to redraw the political map of the Muslim world. Conscious of the popular perception and fear that the U.S. has been fighting a war against Islam and Muslims, President Obama sought to counter soaring anti-Americanism and reassure Muslims that “the Americans are not your enemy.” Signaling a shift from the perception globally of U.S. arrogance and interventionism, Obama declared that while “we sometimes make mistakes,” America is not a colonial power and hoped for a restoration of “the same respect and partnership that America had with the Muslim world as recently as 20 or 30 years ago.”

Obama’s message did strike many of the right chords. He spoke directly to the peoples of the Muslim world, not to its rulers. He communicated a sense of respect, humility and at the same time confidence and conviction. His message was one that emphasized the importance of mutual understanding and respect for the peoples of the Muslim world, declaring “my job is to communicate to the American people that the Muslim world is filled with extraordinary people…My job to the Muslim world is to communicate that the Americans are not your enemy.” Obama also emphasized a new readiness to listen rather than to dictate.

The 2007 Gallup World Poll findings in more than 35 countries, extending from North Africa to Southeast Asia, underscore the importance of Obama’s addressing the sense of powerlessness, humiliation and lack of respect. (See John L. Esposito and Dalia Mogahed, Who Speaks for Islam? What a Billion Muslims Really Think.) When asked in an open ended question what the West could do to improve relations, the most frequent response was respect Islam and Muslims, not consider them inferior. Obama clearly spoke to this concern both in his inaugural and on Al Arabiya: “in all my travels throughout the Muslim world, what I’ve come to understand is that regardless of your faith—and America is a country of Muslims, Jews, Christians, non-believers—regardless of your faith, people all have certain common hopes and common dreams.”

Obama’s message of self-criticism and restraint, diplomacy and peace, partnership not unilateralism, resonates with the vast majority of Muslims who like Americans want peace, not war, security, not instability and terrorism, leadership based on partnership, not unilateralism. But they also want to see a respect that is reflected in even-handedness and justice.

The president is correct in stating that “We can have legitimate disagreements but still be respectful.” However, in a post-Gaza Middle East, the U.S. cannot signal a new approach to U.S.-Middle East foreign policy that has credibility if, while rightly reinforcing America’s commitment to Israel and condemning terrorist attacks, Obama says nothing critical about Israel’s war in Gaza and its use of violence and terror. Israel did not simply attack terrorists and destroy their infrastructure, but Gaza’s elected government and its society. The unrestrained violence and terror unleashed on the people of Gaza, the destruction of much of Gaza’s infrastructure and institutions (homes, neighborhoods, universities and schools, mosques, police stations, hospitals), and the disproportionate loss of civilian life and casualties (1,300 Palestinians, including at least 700 civilians vs. 10 Israeli soldiers and three civilians) threatens to radicalize a generation of Palestinians.

Obama characterized his approach to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and his advice to George Mitchell as: “So let’s listen. He’s going to be speaking to all the major parties involved.” This “new” policy will require that the U.S. work with all the players: HAMAS, the PNA and Israel. Whatever it may think of HAMAS, a reality-based, pragmatic American foreign policy, must remember and respect the fact that the people of Palestine (in the West Bank as well as Gaza) made their choice in democratic elections in 2006, electing a HAMAS-led government. The Muslim World remembers that subsequently, the U.S. and Israel chose to boycott and blockade Gaza in an effort to undermine and overthrow the democratically elected government.

As the Gallup World Poll found, both the mainstream Muslim majority and a minority of potential extremists want better relations with the West, coexistence not conflict. Most admire America’s basic principles and values of self-determination, freedoms, democracy and human rights. At the same time, Obama and the U.S. face a Muslim world in which many have deep fears and grievances, fear of Western intervention, invasion, and domination, and the belief that the West, in particular the U.S., uses a double standard in its promotion of democracy and human rights.

While many Muslims are critical of the policies and actions of the U.S., Israel and their own governments, the wars in Iraq, Lebanon and Gaza, authoritarian regimes, lack of freedoms and human rights, the majority also reject extremism and terrorism as a response. To restore America’s global image, moral stature and leadership and further weaken the extremists, the Obama administration must both listen to—not necessarily agree with—and not dictate but also seek to work at non-governmental levels with mainstream Muslim organizations and NGOs in addressing these concerns and injustices.

In the Muslim world, as in Europe and much of the world, Obama is welcomed as an internationalist president. His Kenyan father, early schooling in Indonesia, race and name symbolize for many a unique internationalist presidential profile, one that contrasts sharply with his predecessor. Indeed, he is seen as the antithesis of George W. Bush-internationally informed, experienced, aware and sensitive, a measured and articulate statesman-not, as Bush is often regarded, as a swaggering Texas cowboy.

Obama’s foreign policy will be expected to be all the things that many in the Muslim world saw as lacking in the Bush administration, which was viewed as neo-colonial, unilateral, arrogant, militant and interventionist. Therefore, an Obama administration will be expected to be multilateral, favor diplomacy first over military threats and intervention, and avoid what many believe was a neo-colonialist American foreign policy whose verbal commitment to democracy promotion and human rights was hypocritical. Obama’s administration cannot, like Bush’s, fail to walk the way it talks.

Despite its democratic rhetoric, the Bush administration continued to look the other way in its relations with authoritarian Muslim allies. It refused to accept the election of HAMAS. America condemned Hizbollah, but sat on the sidelines as Israel carpet-bombed Lebanon, destroying much of its infrastructure in a war whose victims were overwhelmingly Lebanon’s civilian population. Many Muslims today expect Obama to live up to the principles of self-determination, justice and human rights that they associate with America and break with the Bush administration’s (and for that matter, previous administrations’) double standard in not promoting democracy and human rights in the Middle East.

Given the legacy of past American policies that engaged in what Ambassador Richard Haass, a senior State Department official in George W. Bush’s first term, called “Democratic Exceptionalism”-its equation of America’s national interest in security, stability and access to oil with uncritical support for authoritarian regimes and Israel-Obama will face a formidable challenge of sharply rising expectations. It will be further complicated by the fact that some Muslim rulers, in contrast to their populations, preferred McCain, believing that he would continue the Bush policy (and indeed that of Bush’s predecessors) of supporting their regimes in exchange for their cooperation and what were regarded as America’s national interests.

Both America/Europe and Muslim societies need to pursue a joint effort in marginalizing the extremist fringe and building bridges between members of the mainstream. Data from the Gallup World Poll (see John L. Esposito and Dalia Mogahed’s, Who Speaks for Islam? What a Billion Muslims Really Think?), the most comprehensive and systematic poll of the Muslim world-representing the voices of 90% of the world’s Muslims in more that 35 countries stretching from North Africa to Southeast Asia-provides critical insights into the components for a new direction in American foreign policy and relations with the Muslim world. Majorities of Muslims, like Westerners, are deeply concerned about religious extremism and terrorism, not surprising since the majority of attacks and victims have been in the Muslim world. For majorities of Muslims, who admire the West’s freedoms, technologies, and rule of law, the major issues are respect for Islam and Muslims and Western, especially American, foreign policies. Many will be looking for an American administration that emphasizes diplomacy and dialogue. They will expect co-existence and constructive engagement rather than interference, intervention or dominance in America’s relations with the Muslim world; the promotion of democratization as self-determination; economic and educational assistance rather than the transfer of substantial military arms and equipment to authoritative regimes; and a more balanced policy in its approach to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

While agreement on a withdrawal policy for Iraq will not be easy, devising a new policy to address deteriorating conditions in Afghanistan that does not require major multi-year American military involvement will prove difficult. However, the most intractable issue will continue to be the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. The obstacles seem insurmountable: the failed leadership in Israel and Palestine, prospects of a new Netanyahu-led government facing off with HAMAS, and formidable American domestic pressure  from the Israel lobby and Zionist Christian Right leaders. There seems little reason to believe that an Obama administration or the new Congress will alter a long-established tradition of American presidents (Democrat or Republican) and Congresses to equate the existence, safety and security of Israel but be gun-shy in providing comparable support for Palestinian Muslims and Christians. A review of Obama’s campaign advisers on foreign policy and community affairs as well as the list of those rumored to be appointed in his new administration do not bring an initial optimism for significant change.

The policies and legacy of the Bush administration have left Barack Obama and his new administration with many formidable political and economic challenges, some seemingly intractable. However, in relations with the Muslim world and in our joint fight against global terrorism, Obama does have a singular opportunity to signal a new era and send a new message of hope and constructive engagement across the Muslim world.

A critical problem that all religious reformers of whatever faith face is the relationship between their reformist thought and what for many is the authority of tradition, the need to demonstrate some kind of continuity between tradition and change. The conservative or traditionalist bent of many religious scholars, madrasas and Muslim populations make this requirement even more necessary. The importance of the framing narrative and its repertoire, which will engage the context of its intended audience, is critical to the success and effectiveness of social movements. Daniel Philpott perceptively identifies the Achilles heel of An-Na’im’s argument:

What is interesting about these arguments is that they ground the case for the secular state not in the Quran, not in claims about the presence of the imago Dei in the person or in some other source of the person’s intrinsic dignity, not in natural law, some closely similar type of practical reason, or universal moral precepts, but rather in what might be called “second order” observations about the phenomenology of belief, the character of government, the lessons of history, and the like. To be sure, good reasons for the secular state lie therein. But are these arguments sufficient to ground an Islamic case for constitutionalism, human rights, and the secular state? I doubt it.

When one looks at the context in which An-Na’im speaks, hurdles become clearer, as does the need for a more Islamically grounded argument.

Many Islamists , along with many other Muslims, have cast secularism as a completely foreign doctrine imposed on the Islamic world by colonial powers; they hold up traditional Islamic society, particularly during the first century or so of Islam, as a model of how the early community was guided by religious principles in all areas of life, including politics. The prominent judge and Arab historian Tariq al-Bishri, for example, seeks to contradict the idea that modernization and secularization must be linked by arguing that Muhammad ‘Ali’s regime in Egypt was not secular; it took aspects of military science and technology from Europe to aid an essentially Islamic political entity. Western ideas did not become pervasive, according to al-Bishri, until the early 20th century due to the spread of missionary schools and pro-Western secularist print media. The non-sectarian Islamic movement started to grow parallel to geographically-based secular nationalist movements until it became clear that there was a split in society between an inherited and revitalized Islam and a newly-arrived secularism. This initial split, according to Al-Bishri, has amounted to a fully-entrenched “war of ideas” between the two sides that has continued up to the present.

An-Na‘im offers his own interpretative framework in the debate about Islam and secularism, knowing full well the associations between “secularism” and foreign colonial domination in the Islamic world. Like al-Bishri and others, An-Na‘im looks for evidence from pre-modern and modern Islamic history to support his views, but to a very different end. He argues that his vision of a secular state, meaning one that is neutral regarding religious doctrine, is “more consistent with Islamic history than is the so-called Islamic state model proposed by some Muslims since the second quarter of the twentieth century.” The old notion that secularism is “neutral” regarding religion is itself a contested issue. Although An-Na‘im insists that he is not claiming that the “pre-colonial state was secular in the modern sense of the term,” he does suggest without convincing proof that “the states under which Muslims lived in the past were never religious, regardless of occasional claims to the contrary.” The realities of Islamic history as well as a good deal of contemporary scholarship on Islamic history (Fred Donner, Ira Lapidus and many other scholars) would counter the notion of “occasional claims” and thus require that a convincing argument substantiate this claim.

An-Na‘im asserts in his analysis of Islamic history that religious and political authority stem from different sources and require different skills and, therefore, to conflate the two leads to dangerous confusion. This conflation was only possible, according to An-Na‘im, during the time of the Prophet, “because no other human being can enjoy the Prophet’s combination of religious and political authority.” Since such harmony is no longer possible, religious and political leaders should instead pursue their autonomy so that each side will be strengthened and not subject to subordination or coercion by the other.

An-Na‘im claims, furthermore, that a reading of Islamic history that highlights a differentiation between religious and political authorities can be traced back as early as the caliphate of Abu Bakr, whose Wars of Apostasy, he says, were not religiously motivated, despite the fact that they were justified by the caliph in religious terms. What An-Na‘im considers “confusing the political authority of the caliph with his religious authority” continued into the Umayyad dynasty, which An-Na‘im characterizes as a “total and complete monarchy in every way” that, nevertheless, “still sought to maintain the fiction that the authority of their caliphs was an extension of the authority of the Prophet.” In spite of ‘Abbasid claims of religious legitimacy, the proliferation of sects during this period as well as the upheaval of the Mihna provided further challenges to the “myth of Islamic unity” as well as the impracticality of applying the Prophet’s model of leadership after his death.

While it is not surprising that An-Na‘im chooses to focus on the Mamluk and Fatimid eras in Islamic history, the Ayyubids rather than the Mamluks would be the more accurate example regarding dynasties in which the state bureaucracy had really come into its own and that therefore the dynamic between the religious scholars and the political authority had also reached a new level of complexity and contention. Religious institutions and scholars, for example, relied on state patronage for financial support while at the same time trying to maintain some level of independence and authority.

An-Na‘im argues that the Fatimid self-image as a Shi‘i imamate upholding the spiritual and political legacy of the Prophet was at odds with the “hypocrisy and corruption” of some state officials charged with both administrative and religious functions, such as the muhtasib who acted as both a tax collector and trade arbiter as well as an enforcer of public morality. Stemming the Shi‘i tide, the Mamluks came to power asserting their status as the defenders of Sunni Islam. As An-Na‘im points out: “Military campaigns against crusaders, the protection of Muslim lands, and the endowments of religious institutions were public symbols designed to emphasize the Mamluk service to Islam.” During this time, religious scholars (and judges in particular) felt pressure to legitimize and support state authority or risk imprisonment and punishment, the fate of Ibn Taymiyya, for instance.

An-Na‘im sees this tension as becoming potentially destructive when rulers start to abuse their power and the religious authority is not able to hold them accountable. Rather than arguing, like Tunisia’s Rachid al-Ghannouchi and others, that if Muslim rulers/leaders were truly pious such violence would be unnecessary, An-Na‘im advocates a secular state built on constitutionalism, human rights and citizenship – resources that he acknowledges “were totally lacking in all societies everywhere until the modern era.”

Perhaps the most controversial element of An-Na‘im’s interpretive framework is his understanding of the nature and role of Shari‘a in Islamic history, especially in the context of his proposed secular state solution. An-Na‘im suggests that the Shari‘a must be marginalized in order to save it. More precisely, he asserts that no state has the right to enforce religious law, even if it is the religion of a majority of its citizens: “By its nature and purpose, Shari‘a can only be freely observed by believers; its principles lose their religious authority and value when enforced by the state.” States do not enforce principles; they enforce laws. Like Fu‘ad Zakaria and contrary to much of the scholarship on the origins and development of Islamic law, An-Na‘im denies that Islamic law included both a divine, unchanging element (Shari‘a, principles and values rooted in sacred sources) and a human interpretation and application (fiqh). He writes: “both Shari‘a and fiqh are the products of human interpretation of the Qur’an and Sunna of the Prophet in a particular historical context. Whether a given proposition is said to be based on Shari‘a or fiqh, it is subject to the same risks of human error, ideological or political bias, or influence by its proponents’ economic interests and social concerns.” While the human dimension in both cannot be denied, there are significant differences between sacred texts and human interpretation, laws that are based on clear texts and those based on analogy, as well as differences in the degree and extent of human interpretation in Shari‘a and fiqh.

An-Na‘im’s claim that no human institution, such as the state, can implement or enforce religious law would seem to contradict the example already noted from pre-modern Islamic history, in which state-appointed judges carried out a parallel system of rulings at times in agreement with, and at times in opposition to, state authority. Each side, the political and the religious, relied on the other for moral legitimacy and support. The noted Islamic legal historian Wael Hallaq describes the delicate balance of authority: “Our sources reveal that the caliphs and their subordinates generally did comply with the law, if for no other reason than in order to maintain their political legitimacy. Yet, it appears reasonable to assume that their compliance stemmed from their acceptance of religious law as the supreme regulatory force of society and empire.” Or, put differently: “On balance, if there was any pre-modern legal and political culture that maintained the principle of the rule of law so well, it was the culture of Islam.”

Finally, An-Na’im’s reformism faces two practical hurdles: broad-based Muslim public opinion that favors Shari‘a as “a” source of law and the continued centrality and authority of the classical tradition of Islamic law.

Data from the largest, most comprehensive study of contemporary Muslims ever done, based on tens of thousands of hour-long, face-to-face interviews with residents of more than 35 Muslim nations and representing more than ninety percent of the world’s 1.3 billion Muslims, indicates that majorities of Muslims want Shari‘a as “a” source of law but not “the” source of law. The data reveals a desire for a new model of government—one that is democratic yet embraces religious principles and values. Majorities in most countries, with the exception of a handful of nations, want Shari’a as at least “a” source of legislation. Of course, in practice this sentiment can mean many things: requiring that no law be contrary to Shari‘a, drafting laws that incorporate or are not antithetical to Islamic principles and values. Interestingly, we don’t have to look far from home to find a significant number of people who want religion as a source of law. In the United States, a 2006 Gallup Poll indicates that a majority of Americans want the Bible as a source of legislation. Forty-six percent of Americans say that the Bible should be “a” source, and nine percent believe it should be the “only” source of legislation.

The second issue/reality that An-Na’im does not adequately address is the hold of tradition. The manner in which he bypasses or ignores the classical tradition fails to come to grips with the reality on the ground and risks reducing the influence and impact of his substantial efforts to the bookshelf rather than becoming a catalyst for change in Muslim societies. In Sunni Islam, the classical tradition, legitimated by the consensus (ijma) of the community (in fact by its religious scholars), has been normative. While historically the Sunna of the Prophet has controlled the understanding of the Quran, the consensus of religious scholars (ijma) has ruled over the Sunna. In other words, for traditionalists in Sunni Islam, the consensus (ijma) of the past is authoritative and overrules everything. Thus, for example, even if the Quran doesn’t advocate hijab or prohibit women from leading mixed gender prayer, and some or many hadiths are false, the interpretations and practices sanctioned by the ijma of the past, the classical Islamic tradition, prevail. Not to do so is to depart from tradition, to fail to establish a necessary link or continuity between the authoritative ijma of the past and modern change. This outlook is epitomized in an Azhar saying: “Consensus is the stable pillar on which the religion rests.” The Indonesian reformer Nurcholish Madjid has referred to this as the “sacralization” of tradition in Islam and called for a “de-sacralization” of tradition. However, he does not reject the importance of tradition, but of the notion of a fixed, static tradition, arguing that tradition and consensus or ijma are ongoing and cumulative.

An-Na’im is not alone in re-examining the relationship of religion to the state and arguing that a Muslim country can also be secular. However, some like Indonesia’s Nurcholish Madjid (as well as Mustafa Ceric, the Grand Mufti of Bosnia-Herzegovina or Oxford’s Tariq Ramadan) recognize more clearly the need to acknowledge the force of tradition even as they proceed to engage in wide ranging reformist thinking. Although emphasizing the value/merit of classical Islam and its legacy, they do not regard it as an absolute reference point or religious authority but only a tool for solving modern problems. Madjid has spoken of the danger of the “sacralization” of tradition. While neo-traditionalist reformers, muftis with international followings like Ali Gomaa, the Mufti of Egypt and Qatar’s Yusuf Qaradawi, acknowledge the authority of the classical tradition but have methodologies to legitimate substantive reforms, modern reformers more freely bypass the classical tradition and go back to the Quran as the primary basis for fresh understandings and interpretations.

Although An-Na‘im’s interpretation of pre-modern Islamic history and law are problematic at times, the great strength of the book is the author’s analysis of political realities in the modern, post-colonial state and his projections and recommendations for a future secular state founded on principles of constitutionalism, human rights, and civic reason. Here, An-Na‘im’s choice of India, Turkey and Indonesia as examples of how secularism is contextualized in different societies is instructive. He eschews a single solution for all cases, a single formulation of secularism for all contexts, but wisely and realistically affirms the fact “that each society’s conception and experience of secularism has to be contested and deeply contextual.” An-Na’im’s methodology, and thus a more Islamically grounded methodology that would also enhance the Islamic legitimacy of his argument, would have benefited from the approach of Abdulaziz Sachedina’s The Islamic Roots of Democratic Pluralism. Sachedina does what An-Na‘im does not; he examines the traditional sources (Qur’an, hadith, tafsir) in order to build up a case for democratic pluralism from an Islamic frame of reference.

Although An-Na‘im’s views on secularism and the role of Shari‘a in society are far from the mainstream amongst Muslim scholars, he does, as intended, provide a major new interpretative framework that has created a vital forum for future discussion and once again demonstrates the courage to put in writing what others might only think. His “interpretive framework” will be both a source for heated debate as well as a foundation for others to build on and flesh out.

The Gallup Organization has produced the largest, most comprehensive polling/study of Muslims ever done, based on a sample representing more than 90% of the world’s 1.3 billion Muslims: young and old, educated and illiterate, female and male, living in urban and rural settings. Between 2001 and 2007, Gallup conducted more than 50,000 hour-long, face-to-face interviews with residents of more than 40 nations that are predominantly Muslim or have substantial Muslim populations.

The result is the book Who Speaks for Islam? What a Billion Muslims Really Think, which I co-authored with Dalia Mogahed, Director of the Gallup Center for Muslim Studies. The results are often startling, challenging the conventional wisdom, and we expect them to stir both interest and debate.

How widespread is political radicalism?

The key question asked to demarcate moderates from the politically radicalized was whether the 9/11 attacks were completely justified and whether they have an unfavorable or favorable view of the United States. The vast majority, moderates, said the 9/11 attacks were unjustified. A significant minority, politically radicalized and thus potential supporters of extremism – 7% – said the attacks were completely justified and view the United States unfavorably. Identification as “politically radicalized” does not mean they commit acts of violence but that they are a potential source for recruitment or support for terrorist groups.

Defying the conventional wisdom, the politically radicalized are no more religious than moderates and on average more educated and affluent than moderates. Larger percentages of politically radicalized than moderates respond that they are more satisfied with their financial situation, standard of living, and quality of life, with 64% of the politically radicalized vs. 55 % of moderates believing their standard of living is getting better. They are also, on average, more optimistic about their personal future than moderates, more optimistic about their own lives. However, the politically radicalized are more concerned and pessimistic about world affairs and international politics regarding issues like U.S. hegemony, invasion, and dependency. Responding to an open-ended question, politically radicalized frequently cite “occupation/U.S. domination” as their biggest fear, while moderates most often mention economic problems.

Why do they hate us?

The question “Why do they hate us?” raised in the immediate aftermath of 9/11 continues to looms large in Western minds following continued terrorist attacks in Europe and the Muslim world and the dramatic growth of anti-Americanism. A common answer has been, “They hate our way of life, our freedom, democracy, and success.”

While many believe anti-Americanism is tied to deep West-East religious and cultural differences, the data contradict these views. When asked what they admired most about the West, many Muslims — both politically radicalized and moderates — say they admire the West’s technology, freedom of speech, and value system of hard work. In contrast, 57% of Americans when asked what they most admire about Muslim societies offer two responses: “Nothing” and “I don’t know.”

Even more surprising, the politically radicalized are more likely than moderates to associate Arab/Islamic nations with an eagerness to have better relationships with the West: Fifty-eight percent of the politically radicalized (versus 44% of moderates) expressed this.

Finally, no significant difference exists between the percentage of the politically radicalized and moderates who said: “better understanding between the West and Arab/Islamic cultures concerns me a lot.”

Although many in the West believe that anti-Americanism is tethered to a basic hatred of the West, respondents’ assessments of individual Western countries reveal a different picture. Unfavorable opinions of the United States or Great Britain do not preclude a favorable attitude toward other Western countries such as France or Germany. Across all predominantly Muslim countries polled, an average of 75% associate “ruthless” with the United States (in contrast to only 13% for France and 13% for Germany).

Unfavorable opinions of Western heads of state also vary significantly. Ninety percent of the politically radicalized and 62% of moderates express absolute dislike for George W. Bush; 70% of the politically radicalized and 43% of moderates do not like former British Prime Minister Tony Blair “at all.” That level of dislike does not extend to other Western leaders. For example, dislike of former French President Jacques Chirac is significantly lower: 39% among the politically radicalized and 24% among moderates.

What about Sharia and Democracy?

Few issues crystallize “the problem” with Islam more than the Sharia, regarded by a significant minority of Muslim women and many non-Muslims as an oppressive corpus of law opposed to basic liberties and human rights. Surprisingly, however different and diverse Muslim populations may be, for many Sharia is central to faith and identity.

Gallup data shows that majorities in most countries, with the exception of a handful of nations, want Sharia as at least “a” source of legislation. And at the same time, a majority also supports freedoms of religion, speech, and assembly. The majority of those surveyed also support a woman’s right to vote, drive and work outside the home. Majorities in every nation surveyed, save for Saudi Arabia and Egypt, also believe it appropriate for women to serve at the highest levels of government in their nation’s Cabinet and National Council (and even in Saudi Arabia, 40% of all adults subscribe to this view).

While the conventional wisdom in the West has been that democracy requires secularism, separation of church and state, the desired Muslim model is neither a theocracy nor a secular democracy but rather a model that integrates faith and democratic values; more specifically the data show that a majority want a system of government that combines democracy and faith/with religious values. Of course, what respondents mean by Sharia can vary widely from no law that contradicts Sharia to laws based on Sharia.

While the spread of democracy has been the stated goal of the U.S. government, majorities in Jordan, Egypt, Iran, Pakistan, Turkey, and Morocco disagreed that the United States is serious about spreading democracy in their region of the world. For the politically radicalized, their fear of Western control and domination, as well as their lack of self-determination, reinforce their sense of powerlessness. Thus, a belief has developed among the politically radicalized that they must dedicate themselves to changing an untenable situation.

How to improve relations?

When asked how the West could improve relations with the Muslim world, the most often offered response was: respect Islam, stop treating us like we’re inferior, stop degrading Muslims in your media — as well as a desire for assistance with technology, jobs and economic development.

The politically radicalized (40%) are far more likely than moderates (20%) to say Western societies do not show any concern for better co-existence with the Arab-Muslim world. Yet, the politically radicalized (37%) are also far more likely than moderates (20%) to feel the time for a better understanding between the West and the Arab/Muslim world probably will never come.
Americans, like the vast majority in the Muslim world, share a fundamental aversion to extremism. Asked what they admire least about the Muslim world, Americans said overwhelmingly “extremism/radicalism/not open to others’ ideas.” Likewise, when asked what they admired least about their own societies, Muslims’ top concerns included extremism and terrorism. The “terrorist fringe,” far from being glorified, is rejected by citizens of predominantly Muslim countries just as it is by citizens in the United States.

The good news is that 9 out of 10 Muslims are moderates, another piece of good news for those optimistic about coexistence. However, if the 7 percent (91 million) of 1.3 billion Muslims today worldwide are politically radicalized and they continue to feel politically dominated, occupied and disrespected, the West’s opportunity to address these drivers of extremism will be as great as the challenge of succeeding.

Benazir Bhutto was an avowed reformer who in two terms as prime minister failed to bring major political or social change; a leader who did little for the overwhelming number of poor Pakistanis who live in a feudal society; a celebrated feminist who despite promises as Prime Minister did little to improve women’s status or reverse Zia ul-Haq’s so-called Islamization policies; a secular democrat whose leadership of the PPP and governance as Prime Minister reflected Pakistan’s feudal politics, with a record of widespread corruption and human rights violations that were severely criticized by international organizations. Like her father Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, she exerted power through an increasingly tough autocratic style, one-person dominance or rule. She declared herself head of the PPP for life, made no provision for leadership from among her many talented party leaders since the PPP was to remain a family legacy as witnessed by the “selection” of her son and husband (long-discredited by his earned reputation for corruption – reflected in his nickname “Mr. 10%” and his imprisonment in Pakistan for 11 years on charges of corruption – and currently under indictment in Europe).

The recent political responses to Benazir Bhutto’s assassination highlight the key problems or fault lines endemic to Pakistani politics today, problems that have been exacerbated exponentially in a post 9/11 world. Both President Bush and President Musharraf were quick to blame al-Qaeda and other Muslim extremists and to simply place the assassination within the context of the war on global terrorism and the forces opposed to democracy. But as dangerous as these forces are, especially with the growth of Pakistani rather than foreign fighters, this single-minded scenario ignores the long-standing conflicting currents in Pakistani politics: a deep seated and unresolved identity problem regarding the relationship of Islam to Pakistani national identity and politics; the role of Islamic parties and movements and their clashes with a westernized elite; and a strong military that has meant more years of military rather than democratic rule, and the role of feudal political leaders.

Although Mohammed Ali Jinnah, Pakistan’s founder and first leader, saw Pakistan as a Muslim homeland, his more socio-cultural understanding was not that of many other more “religiously-minded” leaders. Thus, while Pakistan adopted a Western political structure – as Ayub Khan, an early military ruler and modernist, learned when he had to back off his attempt to drop Pakistan’s title as the Islamic Republic of Pakistan – many Pakistanis took Pakistan’s Islamic identity quite literally and seriously. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, a secular socialist, would himself turn to Islam after the Pakistan-Bangladesh civil war, in order to build bridges to Arab countries, counter the Jamaat-i-Islami and other religious parties, and reinforce his popular base. However, the appeal to Islam would prove to be a two-edged sword as the Bhutto appointed head of the Army, General Zia ul-Haq, would use Islam to legitimate his coup, the execution of Bhutto, and the “Islamization” of Pakistan. Ironically, years later, Nawaz Sharif would also play the religion card in his political struggles with Benazir Bhutto and the PPP.

Where do we go from here? The Pakistan-U.S. partnership under Pervez Musharraf and George W. Bush has proven a dysfunctional relationship of failed policies. Their joint war on terrorism and promotion of democracy have in fact resulted in a dangerous increase of the former and a threat to the latter. Religious extremism and terrorism have grown in Pakistan; extremists will only benefit from the current crisis. Islamist parties (mainstream and extremists) have increased their electoral clout both in the 2002 elections and subsequently nationally, including control of both the North West Frontier Province and Baluchistan. Musharraf’s promotion of democracy (as that of the U.S. in Pakistan as in Egypt) has at best been a fig leaf, both in terms of the manipulation of electoral politics and the role of the military. Though Musharraf took off his uniform, the generals remain a powerful and influential force capable of intervening at any moment. And regrettably, the tragic death of Benazir Bhutto has resulted in a new stage of Bhutto family feudal leadership of the PPP, only this time absent the charisma, talents and experience of Benazir.

Moving forward will require an enlightened leadership that is not apparent in terms of the chief players. At a time when widespread anti-Americanism (more accurately, opposition to the Bush administration) in Pakistan has become even more entrenched – as it has in many parts of the Muslim and non-Muslim world – one can at least hope for the laying of some groundwork for the emergence of future leaders. Musharraf should begin with the restoration of some semblance of democracy by reconstituting Pakistan’s Supreme Court, announce a more specific timetable for national elections, and seek to work more closely with mainstream and political leaders rather than exploit the current fluid situation and thereby contribute to greater instability. The U.S., given its political and military power, retains the ability and leverage to play a more constructive role in Pakistan – but that will require not simply looking for another “American candidate” to install as Pakistan’s leader.

Many years ago I was invited to a small dinner party given by General Zia ul-Haq at his residence for members of the U.S. House Appropriations Committee. Zia began by reassuring us that after a long day of conversations, he would not give a political speech. We were then treated to a long series of “reflections” on how, given the threat of the Soviet Union and China and the situation in Afghanistan, Pakistan was indeed an essential strategic partner for the U.S. After Zia finished, a member of the U.S. delegation caught up in the moment commented to the Foreign Minister, who was sitting at our table, that America valued Zia as it had and did its other great allies: Egypt’s Anwar Sadat, the Philippines’s Ferdinand Marcos and the Shah of Iran! The Foreign Minister smiled but looked incredulous. Pervez Musharraf can now be added to that list. However, today neither Pakistan nor the U.S. – nor global politics more broadly – can afford another iteration of the same flawed approach.

[Read the edited transcript of an interview with John Esposito that took place at the SSRC offices on May 11, 2007, and was conducted by Pakistani journalist Huma Mustafa Beg.---ed.]