Preface
This booklet is a summary of my book Taʿbir ki Ghalati (‘Error of Interpretation’). Here, I have tried to briefly clarify why I think that the writings of Maulana Abul Ala Maududi (d. 1979), the founder of the Jamaat-e-Islami and proponent of a distinctly political interpretation of Islam, are problematic. The political interpretation of Islam has been, and continues to be, the cause of much strife and conflict across the world.
The noted Indian Muslim scholar Maulana Abdul Majid Daryabadi (d. 1977) once referred to what he termed as a ‘diseased mindset’. As he put it, ‘Even some very virtuous people are no exceptions’ in this regard. Such people simply cannot tolerate any criticism. After I began critiquing Maulana Maududi’s writings, I gained first-hand experience of this mindset.
One of the clauses of the Constitution of the Jamaat-e-Islami, which the Maulana himself prepared, reads: ‘No one should be considered to be above criticism’. As long as I used this right in order to criticize others, people in the Jamaat-e-Islami circles heartily congratulated me. But the moment I used this very same right to criticize Maulana Maududi, it was as if I had dared to step across the forbidden frontier! Perhaps this clause in the Jamaat’s Constitution was meant to allow for criticism against everyone but the framer of the Constitution himself.
In his Khilafat wa Mulukiyat (‘The Caliphate and Monarchical Despotism’), Maulana Maududi wrote that the Caliphate was an ideal system of Islamic life, and noted that after this system collapsed, a system he termed as mulukiyat or Monarchical Despotism took its place. The objective of the Maulana’s efforts was to re-establish the system of Caliphate rule.
What exactly happened when the Caliphate was replaced by Monarchical Despotism? The Maulana discussed this in terms of eight broad themes, one of which he termed as ‘The End of the Freedom of Expression’. In this regard, he wrote:
Islam arranged, not just as a matter of right but also as a duty (and this was something that the proper functioning of Islamic society depended on), that the conscience of the community should remain alive and that its members should be able to speak out and admonish even the highest person for misdeeds and openly speak the truth. During the Righteous Caliphate, this right of the people was fully protected. The Righteous Caliphs not only permitted it, but even encouraged people to [exercise this right]. In this period, people who spoke the truth were rewarded not with scolding and threats, but with praise. Those who critiqued others were not suppressed. Instead, they were appropriately replied to in an effort to satisfy them. But in the Age of Monarchical Despotism, people’s minds were sealed and their tongues were tied up. And so it came about that people could only use their tongues to praise [rulers], or else they had to keep quiet. If some people’s conscience would not allow them not to speak the truth, they had to be ready to face imprisonment and death or being lashed. And so, in this period those who could not stop themselves from speaking the truth and critiquing those who committed bad deeds were given heinous punishments.
The Caliphate that the Maulana struggled to revive had, according to him, eight special characteristics, one of which was that under this system, efforts were made to appropriately reply to critics so as to satisfy them. Furthermore, people were actually encouraged to voice their criticism. In fact, they were supported and praised for this. In contrast, the Maulana said, under Monarchical Despotism, critics were suppressed, silenced, beaten up and threatened—and if all this did not work to keep them from speaking out, they were tortured and thrown into jail.
Keeping in mind what Maulana Maududi wrote in this regard, consider what happened with me some years ago. At that time, I was a member of the Jamaat-e-Islami. It so happened that I gradually began to discern some things in the writings of Maulana Maududi which I found objectionable. And so, in December 1961, I put my views down on paper and sent them to the Maulana. And what reply did I get? The Maulana was a flag-bearer of the revival of the Caliphate, and so one would have thought that his response to my critique would have been to say that not only was I exercising my right, but also abiding by my duty. After all, he himself wrote that this is precisely what ought to happen under the Caliphate that he wished to establish. He should have taken it as proof of my living conscience. He should have encouraged me in my effort. If he did not agree with me, he could have tried to give me an appropriate reply and thereby tried to satisfy me.
But what actually happened? In my book Taʿbir ki Ghalati I have included the correspondence that I exchanged with him the on this issue over a period of two long years. Anyone who reads these letters can easily understand that the Maulana did not give a proper and convincing reply to my arguments. He can also easily discern that the Maulana tried to behave in precisely the same way that he regarded as characteristic of Monarchical Despotism.
Why didn’t the Maulana try to give me a reply that would have satisfied me? Instead, the Maulana accused my understanding of issues to be extremely faulty and limited. He charged me with being deluded. He suggested that I was arrogant, adding that he was not in the habit of addressing arrogant people. He said I had crossed the stage beyond which he believed it was useless trying to reason with me.
In this way, throughout our correspondence, Maulana Maududi failed to satisfactorily reply to any of the issues I had raised. Instead, what he did was to say all sorts of things about me. When I insisted that he should come to the point, he finally said I should publish my views, sarcastically remarking that adding one more name to his already long list of ‘well-wishers’ would make no difference.
Gauging from Maulana Maududi’s reaction, you can decide for yourself if he was indeed impelled by the spirit of the Caliphate or the spirit of Monarchical Despotism. The Maulana imagined himself to be in position from where he could afford to criticize the renewer of the faith (mujaddidin) without any exception, and, even beyond that, to point out the mistakes of the Companions of the Prophet, and, going beyond even that, to even inspect the Righteous Caliphs. But if someone were to critique him, it was as if he deserved the same sort of punishment that the Maulana noted that monarchical despots used to administer to their critics—the only difference being that these despots could go to the extent of, in the Maulana’s words, ‘imprisoning and killing and lashing’ their critics, while the Maulana himself had the power only of punishing his critics through his pen.
This is a classic example of what, as I mentioned at the outset, Maulana Darybadi termed as a ‘diseased mindset’.
Criticism can be a very beneficial thing for collective existence—but on the condition that the critic abides by certain principles and acts justly. At the same time, the one who is critiqued should listen to his critic without letting his ego come in the way. Only when people can engage in meaningful critique of others, and, at the same time, the courage to listen to others’ criticism of themselves can they truly evolve, individually as well as collectively. To critique people’s errors while, at the same time, being large-hearted and genuinely concerned about their true welfare is an essential condition for higher attainment in life. As a hadith report tells us, difference is a mercy.
Criticism is the most difficult thing for most people to bear. But if they know how to accept criticism, it can become, for them, a source of great blessing and progress. I hope this booklet will be taken in this spirit.
