Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

The caliphate that could have been

- Ishaan Tharoor Ishaan Tharoor is a foreign affairs columnist at The Washington Post.

Acentennia­l took place this week with little commemorat­ion. It’s been 100 years since the world had a formally recognized caliphate. That’s because, on March 3, 1924, the leaders of the then-new, secular Turkish republic moved to abolish the institutio­n that had prevailed in various forms for centuries, stretching back to the founding of Islam.

The caliph — not wholly unlike the pontiff in Rome for Catholics — was the leading, unifying temporal authority of the Muslim world. The institutio­n shifted across the expanding political geography of Islam, moving from Arabia to the venerable cities of Damascus, Syria, and Baghdad and later to Egypt.

The disappeara­nce of the caliphate — that is, an anchoring spiritual authority for Muslims, especially Sunnis, around the world — left a deep imprint on 20th century politics.

Radical Islam emerged

“The whole phenomenon of radical Islam emerges in this context,” Mustafa Akyol, Turkish author of “Islam without Extremes: A Muslim Case for Liberty,” told me. “The origins of the problems of militant Islamism comes out of this vacuum.”

Akyol offered a beguiling counterfac­tual: What if the caliphate had endured as an autonomous, spiritual entity, somewhat along the lines of the Vatican in the newly invented Italian republic of the 19th century?

He pointed to an episode in 1899, when Ottoman Sultan Abdulhamid II used his authority as caliph to help calm a Filipino Muslim insurgency, much to the gratitude of U.S. diplomats whose government had just started their colonizati­on of the archipelag­o. Could a post-World War I caliph in Istanbul have been able to play such a moderating role in the decades thereafter?

But the caliphate did not survive the Ottoman empire’s turbulent collapse and disintegra­tion by the end of World War I. By 1924, Turkey’s new leaders — chiefly the ruthlessly modernizin­g Mustafa Kemal Pasha, or Ataturk — had already dismantled the Ottoman sultanate in their fashioning of a new Turkish state out of the ashes of empire.

The spiritual role of the Caliph was still occupied by Abdulmejid II, a meek Ottoman scion who liked to paint and collect butterflie­s and would soon be forced into exile along with his immediate family.

Mohamed Barakatull­ah, an Indian pan-Islamist sympatheti­c to the caliph’s plight, wrote how Ataturk proposed “the abolition of the institutio­n” of the caliphate, the expulsion of the caliph’s family and the confiscati­on of their property. That was followed by a bill passing the republic’s national assembly with an overwhelmi­ng majority in support.

Then a delegation of officials went to Dolmabahce Palace in Istanbul, “where they ordered the [caliph] to seat himself upon the throne, whereupon the decree declaring his deposition was read. The [caliph] was then commanded to descend from the throne and make arrangemen­ts for his immediate departure.”

The secular republic

In our historical memory, the end of the caliphate is inseparabl­e from the birth of the Turkish republic.

Sandor Lestyan, a Hungarian correspond­ent for a Budapest newspaper, wrote from Istanbul on March 3, 1924, that there was a “type of excitement” in the city that “one feels when a deeply desired wish is fulfilled or when an event opens new, promising paths for one’s life. What was sacred and untouchabl­e for nine hundred years has been rendered obsolete by a simple vote,” he thrilled.

In foreign reportage, a stark narrative was already set: An Oriental anachronis­m was being swept away by the tide of history. The dissolutio­n of the caliphate, noted The Economist on March 8, 1924, “marks an epoch in the expansion of Western ideas over the non- Western world, for our Western principles of national sovereignt­y and self-government are the real forces to which the unfortunat­e ‘Abdu’l Mejid Efendi has fallen a victim.”

Ataturk would go on to dramatical­ly transform Turkey: The Arabic script was shed for the Latin one; mosques delivered sermons in Turkish, not Arabic; muscular nationalis­m and draconian secularism defined the state, much to the chagrin of more pious Turks and ethnic minorities like the Kurds.

No moderating force left

Could the caliph have been a moderating force in the 20th century? The Ottoman leadership had embarked on major liberalizi­ng reforms in the late 19th century, including steps to accord Jews and Christians equal citizenshi­p at a time when religious discrimina­tion was rife in Europe.

But the unleashing of ethnic nationalis­ms amid imperial collapse and global conflict saw the genocidal massacre of Armenians and prefigured the new republic. Ataturk’s legacy sowed the seeds of the political backlash now seen in the religiousl­y tinged nationalis­m of long-ruling Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan.

“Turkey could have avoided the excesses of the Kemalist ‘single party’ era ... and develop a more religion-friendly secularism,” Akyol argued. “Then it could have avoided the revengeful religious comeback under Erdogan, too.”

 ?? UNESCO World Heritage Site. Library of Congress ?? The Blue Mosque in Istanbul, built in the early 17th century, now a
UNESCO World Heritage Site. Library of Congress The Blue Mosque in Istanbul, built in the early 17th century, now a

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