To save space, there is no need to go into details within the limits of this short article. But to shorten a long story, we can summarize different types of mentalities or mindsets under two broad categories: 1) Radical-autocratic mentality, 2) Moderate-democratic mentality. One can argue that throughout history, the world has been shaped and reshaped most along the lines of these opposing mentalities.

As such, the modern world as well is being reshaped not only by technological innovation and economic change, but by those aforementioned, deeply contrasting political, philosophical, intellectual, and psychological mindsets. In other words, among the most influential factors in determining what’s going on around the world are the radical-autocratic mentality and the moderate-democratic mentality. These two worldviews or perspectives differ fundamentally in how they understand social reality and perceive power, authority, social order, and change. Their ongoing tension has become a defining force in global politics, governance, and social cohesion, influencing everything from domestic policymaking to international relations.

Understanding these mentalities is crucial for interpreting current global conflicts and for envisioning possible futures for humanity.

Radical-Autocratic Mentality

A radical-autocratic mentality is characterized by centralized authority, ideological rigidity, and intolerance of dissent. In other words, the most important characteristics of a radical-autocratic mentality are centralization, authoritarianism, uniformity, egocentrism, clash, protectionism, oppression, statism, collectivism, and central planning. Under radical-autocratic systems, power is typically concentrated in a single leader, ruling elite, or dominant institution that claims exclusive legitimacy. This mindset often views compromise and freedom as weakness and pluralism as a threat to stability.

Radical-autocratic systems frequently justify their authority through:

• Nationalism, religious absolutism, or revolutionary ideology,

• A narrative of existential threat (internal or external enemies),

• Promises of order, security, or moral “purity.”

In such systems, decision-making is fast and decisive, but rarely inclusive. Institutions like courts, media, and civil society are subordinated to the ruling authority. While this mentality can mobilize populations quickly and impose sweeping changes, it often does so at the cost of individual freedoms and long-term resilience.

Historically, radical-autocratic approaches have emerged most strongly during periods of crisis—economic collapse, war, social fragmentation—when fear and uncertainty make populations more receptive to strongman leadership and simplified solutions. Sometimes radical-autocratic leadership itself creates the crisis, and tries to use it to strengthen the political support and close the ranks around, making people see the strong leader as a savior. For autocratic-radical leaders, most of the time, the world is made up of just blacks and whites; there is only one truth, which, of course, is represented by him. Therefore, the radical-autocratic leadership thinks that it has the right to correct the world with every means, using force if necessary. The reflection of this mentality on political grounds is authoritarian, single-party or single-man regimes; on religious grounds is radical-salafi, oppressive religious movements; on economic grounds is protectionist, inward-looking, central planning economic policies with anti-free trade and anti-free market tendencies.

Moderate-Democratic Mentality

In contrast, the moderate-democratic mentality is based on freedom, individual liberties, pluralism, decentralization, open borders, free trade, and free markets. It emphasizes shared power, institutional checks and balances, and gradual reform. It is rooted in the belief that no single individual or ideology possesses absolute truth, and that governance must reflect diverse perspectives within society.

Just like a radical-autocratic mindset, there are certain and clear reflections of a moderate-democratic mindset on religious, political, and economic grounds. On religious grounds, moderate-democratic mentality supports religious pluralism and tolerance, recognizing the individuals’ right to have freedom to choose among alternatives with respect to different faiths, religious beliefs, schools, and traditions. On political grounds, this mindset reflects itself with political rights and civil liberties, pluralism, a multi-party system, separation of powers, and limited government where the authority of the government bodies is limited by the constitution, laws, and other legal institutions. Economically, a moderate-democratic mindset supports open borders, outward-looking policies based on free trade, free markets, globalization, economic integration, freedom of contract, property rights, minimal state intervention, promoting private entrepreneurship, and other economic freedoms.

In other words, key features of moderate-democratic mentality on political grounds include:

• Rule of law and independent institutions, limiting government authority,

• Protection of civil liberties and minority rights,

• Open debate, compromise, transparency, and political accountability

Moderate-democratic systems prioritize stability through legitimacy rather than coercion. Change is typically incremental, shaped through elections, public discourse, and negotiation. While this approach can appear slow or indecisive, it aims to create durable solutions that are broadly accepted by society.

Accordingly, this mentality is closely linked to pluralism, tolerance, cooperation, and trust in institutions—qualities that take time to build but are critical for long-term social cohesion.

Competing Visions of Behavior, Change and Progress

One of the most significant differences between these mentalities lies in how they approach social change. One goes for social engineering and coercive methods, the other one goes for gradual, natural change and peaceful methods.

Radical-autocratic thinking often pursues rapid, transformative social change imposed from the top down. Almost always, it frames the world in binary terms (loyalty versus betrayal, order versus chaos) and seeks to eliminate ambiguity. Sometimes this can result in dramatic short-term achievements, such as infrastructure expansion or swift policy enforcement, but it also increases the risk of repression, corruption, and policy failure due to a lack of feedback, transparency, and accountability.

Moderate-democratic thinking, on the other hand, treats change as a continuous, negotiated, natural process. It accepts imperfection and disagreement as natural features of human societies. Although this approach may struggle to respond swiftly to emergencies, it tends to produce more adaptable and humane outcomes over time. Therefore, radical-autocratic mentality mostly goes hand-in-hand with tension, oppression, conflict, and threat, whereas moderate-democratic mentality with tranquility, peace, cooperation, reconciliation, compromise, and agreement.

Global Impact and Contemporary Relevance

In today’s interconnected and globalized world, the clash between these two mentalities extends beyond national borders. Radical-autocratic regimes often challenge international norms, rules, and agreements related to human rights, freedom of the press, stability, and multilateral cooperation, favoring sovereignty, national interests, and unilateral action. Moderate-democratic states typically advocate for rules-based international systems, alliances, agreements, and diplomacy.

This divide naturally influences:

• Global security and military conflicts, attacks, wars, and occupations,

• Responses to global concerns such as pollution, climate change, and pandemics,

• Control of information, technology, and artificial intelligence.

Notably, no society embodies a purely autocratic or purely democratic mentality. Even established democracies can drift toward radicalization during periods of polarization, while autocratic systems may selectively adopt democratic mechanisms to maintain legitimacy. A typical example of this controversial observation can be visualized in the recent rise of populism, anti-globalization, protectionism, anti-free trade, and economic nationalism in the US and other parts of the world, typically characterized by economic freedom, globalization, and free trade.

Psychological and Social Dimensions

Beyond political structures, these mentalities reflect different psychological orientations. Radical-autocratic thinking often appeals to fear, certainty, and identity, offering simple explanations in a complex world. The world is made up of blacks and whites, we and others, friends and enemies, betrayers and patriots. We have to keep the ranks close, should not question and criticize the actions and policies of the authorities, because the danger is big, there are dirty games designed and implemented by our enemies against us. Appealing to nationalist or religious feelings with strong, accusing, discriminative words (e.g., unbelievers, foreigners, traitors, occupiers, exploiters, imperialists, outsiders) is typical.

On the contrary, moderate-democratic thinking requires tolerance for ambiguity, patience, and trust—traits that are harder to sustain under stress. Since demolishing is always easier than constructing, it takes more time, energy, and effort to build brotherhood, friendship, cooperation, and sharing along the lines of a moderate-democratic mentality.

This is accentuated even more by modern technology in our times. As social media accelerates information flow, disinformation, distortion, and exaggeration, hence amplifying outrage, and radical mentalities can gain attraction by exploiting emotional responses. Unfortunately, this fact has made the defense of moderation, tolerance, freedoms, and democratic norms more challenging, even within long-standing democracies.

Conclusion: Choosing the Direction of the Future

There has always been a struggle between radical-autocratic and moderate-democratic mentalities throughout history since ancient times. These mindsets have been the two main modes of looking at, understanding, and interpreting reality and taking action accordingly. This is not merely a political contest: it has crucial reflections on religious, legal, and economic as well as political grounds. Therefore, thinking about mentalities is a debate about how humanity chooses to live together: with peace or war, open vs. closed borders, free trade vs. protectionism, and central planning vs. free markets. One prioritizes control, discipline, oppression, threat, and certainty at the expense of freedom. The other prioritizes inclusion, freedoms, plurality, transparency, and accountability, accepting complexity and compromise.

While radical-autocratic systems may appear effective in moments of crisis, history suggests that sustainable progress depends on moderation, institutional balance, and respect for human dignity. As global challenges grow more complex and interconnected, the resilience of the world may ultimately hinge on the ability of societies to preserve and strengthen moderate-democratic mentalities without ignoring the need for decisive action.

The future of our world will be shaped not only by who holds power, but by the mindset through which power is exercised. We, as Muslims, should always keep in mind that we are responsible for our actions and will give an account of how we used our money, time, resources, and energy. For political authorities, governments, and leaders, it is extremely important how they exercise their power: use it to establish justice, make peace, and help the needy and the oppressed, or use the same power to destroy, kill, demolish, oppress, torture, and make life hell for others. The more we strive to promote the flourishing of a moderate-democratic mentality, the higher the chance of living in a peaceful, prosperous, and better world.

About the Author:

Necmettin Erbakan University,
Department of Economics, Konya, Türkiye.

Edraak is our newsletter that honours the Muslim world’s diversity, reflected in the multitude of its socio-economic conditions and political institutions spanning across the continents. Traced back to its Arabic origins, إدراك encompasses timely and thorough insights into the developments of the Muslim-majority countries.

We organise the Muslim-majority countries into four zones as per their current conditions of conflict, transition, stability, and development.

Zone I: Experiencing War, Conflict, Oppression, Genocide

Sudan’s Ministry of Information suspends Sudania 24

Sudan’s Ministry of Information suspended private broadcaster Sudania 24 and withdrew its licences, accusing it of “inciting tribal tensions and fueling hate speech regarding displaced persons in Northern State.” CPJ’s three-year-of-war report, published on 15 April, had already documented Sudan as one of the world’s deadliest environments for journalists; both SAF and RSF systematically target reporters, eight journalists are currently missing, three female journalists have not been heard from since February, and al-Fasher is under a near-total media blackout. Sudania 24 was one of the few remaining independent outlets operating in SAF-held territory.

Zone II: Transition toward Peace and Stability

Taliban force thousands of students across Afghan universities to sign a 14-point Hanafi pledge — Shia students beaten at Bamyan for refusing

The Taliban’s Dawat wa Irshad departments distributed a mandatory 14-point pledge at public and private universities across Afghanistan this month, requiring students to declare adherence to the Sunni Hanafi school, grow beards, ban music, and sever ties with anti-Taliban political groups. Shia and Ismaili students at Bamyan University who refused were beaten by armed Taliban-affiliated individuals inside the campus; at least 12 were injured, three critically. Afghanistan’s 208,000 university students now face ideological coercion as the price of access to higher education.

Zone III: Stable but Economically Struggling

SECP clears five brokerages for Shariah-compliant Islamic windows

Pakistan’s Securities and Exchange Commission approved Islamic brokerage windows for Insight Securities, Optimus Capital, Value Stocks, Intermarket Securities, and Darson Securities, allowing investors to trade Shariah-compliant shares, Sukuk, and Islamic ETFs through fully segregated platforms. The move follows the Federal Shariat Court’s 2022 ruling ordering Pakistan to eliminate riba-based banking by 2027. Islamic banking now accounts for 25% of Pakistan’s banking assets, over 51% of listed equities are Shariah-compliant, and represents 80% of daily PSX trading volume.

Bangladesh’s ICT arrests two journalists for their 2013 coverage of the Shapla Chattar crackdown

On 14 May, Bangladesh’s International Crimes Tribunal formally showed Ekattor TV journalist Farzana Rupa and editor-in-chief Mozammel Babu arrested in a crimes-against-humanity case, for covering a 2013 government crackdown on a Hefazat-e-Islam rally in which 58 people were killed. CPJ called it “weaponising an international criminal law framework to punish journalists” for editorial decisions, and demanded their immediate release. The investigation report is due on 7 June.

Maldives Broadcasting Commission orders all media to comply with Adhadhu gag order — first journalists jailed in democratic era

Following the Criminal Court’s 10 May gag order banning any reporting on or discussion of Adhadhu’s Aisha documentary, the Maldives Media and Broadcasting Commission, consolidated under the controversial 2025 media control law, formally ordered every news outlet in the country to comply on 13 May, and separately instructed Channel 13 to halt live broadcasts of opposition gatherings. The Elections Commission fined the opposition People’s National Front MVR 100,000 ($6,500) for discussing the documentary’s allegations at a public gathering. Three former presidents announced a joint meeting to coordinate a response to what they collectively called an unprecedented dismantling of press freedom in the democratic era.

Zone IV: Developed or Emerging Economies with Peace and Stability

35th Doha International Book Fair — 1.85 million books, 37 countries, Arabic language survival framed as a civilisational question

Qatar’s Ministry of Culture opened the 35th Doha International Book Fair on 14 May, largest in its 54-year history, with 910 booths, 520 publishers from 37 countries, and 1.85 million books across 231,000 titles. Qatar Foundation’s BilAraby initiative hosted a session asking how Arabic survives digital publishing. I featured the world’s largest Arabic-language book fair and scholarship on Islamic art. The Doha Book Fair is Qatar’s annual assertion that Arabic intellectual life is worth investing in, not as heritage, but as a living system.

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Islam Today

What Is "Shariah Law?"

This is an actual email I received from what I can only assume is a real live person. There’s a lot to unpack here, but I’m sharing it with you to warn about the impending threat of Shakira law on Americans. And while I can promise I personally will never push…

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a year ago · 487 likes · 145 comments · Qasim Rashid, Esq.

Fatwa No. 7, issued in 2026 by the Bangsamoro Darul Ifta (BDI), states that women cannot travel without a Mahram even if the purpose is a Halal Job, there is no Mahram at home, and she is the sole breadwinner of the family. The fatwa is based on famous hadiths of the Prophet (SAW) stating that a woman must not travel without her Mahram. There is no confusion in the saying of the Prophet; the hadith is authentic.

However, this hadith has been interpreted into two different views presented by Islamic scholars. One is the strict rule held by the Hanbali school of thought, which clarifies that the ruling is absolute. No matter what the reasons are, a woman cannot travel without a Mahram. However, our Prophet already said, “Religion is very easy, and whoever overburdens himself in his religion will be overcome by it” (Sahih Al-Bukhari). Similarly, in the Quran, Allah mentions, “He (Allah) did not make any difficulty for you in the religion” (22:78). This shows that a ruling can be changed to meet social needs because Allah does not want to place excessive difficulty on His believers.

There is a second view presented by scholars from the Maliki, Shafi’i, and Hanafi schools of thought. While arguing on this issue, they ask why the Prophet (SAW) gave such a ruling. In the 7th century, it was very dangerous for a woman to travel alone across the desert. The Mahram was needed for the protection of the woman, not as a leash. Therefore, if today the journey has become safe through trusted travel companies and secure routes, the reason for the restriction has disappeared.

Moving forward, the BDI based its ruling on the simple idea that men are providers who should earn and support their families. However, they do not mention families who have no male members, or cases where the males are unable to work due to disability or a lack of job opportunities. According to NewsLine Philippines, “women’s earnings often keep households afloat, fund schooling, and cover health costs.” The Philippines is a region ruled by the military for decades. Farmers have been displaced from their lands; businesses are closed, and job opportunities are scarce. Many men want to provide but simply cannot find work. In this harsh reality, women have to step out of their homes. Women get jobs more easily compared to men because of the type of work in demand that favors them. Jobs like caregivers, beauty salon staff, nurses, hospitality staff, and housekeeping staff demand women because women are trained for such roles. Meanwhile, men have very limited job opportunities, and most available jobs require skills that are not easy for them to obtain. So, when women are restricted from traveling for work, it can block the financial support they provide to their families.

The BDI states this is for the protection of women. There are real dangers for women working overseas. According to Radar.ph, “government data show that around 40,000 OFWs come from the Bangsamoro region, many of whom rely on overseas employment as a key source of income.” However, instead of restricting women, they should work to strengthen the Overseas Workers Welfare Administration (OWWA). They should work to improve government oversight of foreign employers. The BDI is not the first religious body to deal with such circumstances. Other countries have looked at the same texts and chosen a different path. According to them, protection should not be labeled as prohibition.

Take the example of Pakistan, the Council of Islamic Ideology (CII) issued a ruling on women traveling without a Mahram. They determined that women could perform Hajj and Umrah without a Mahram, as the journey was safe and organized. Pakistan used the Maliki and Shafi’i schools of thought in this case. They decided that modern group travel with proper registration and security meets the goal of the Prophet’s instruction to keep women safe. Similarly, in Saudi Arabia, the policy was changed in 2022, allowing women from any country to perform Hajj and Umrah without a male guardian.

The BDI had options. The Islamic tradition is much more flexible and easier to follow than the strict reading they chose. They need to distinguish between a dangerous, isolated journey and a regulated, organized employment contract. They could have verified the situation on the ground and issued a ruling that helps women.

A question arises: if a whole family depends on a woman, and there is no male member in that family, or the male member is disabled or unable to work, and now her movement is restricted because of Fatwa 7, how will that family survive? As NewsLine Philippines notes, “In practice, women’s earnings often keep households afloat, fund schooling, and cover health costs.” The result will be much quieter and sadder. Women will stop leaving. Household income will shrink. Children will stop going to school. Medical bills will go unpaid.

A region already struggling will sink a little deeper into poverty.

In April 2026, an election took place in West Bengal, India. The main purpose of this election was to choose a leader who would receive votes from a large portion of the public. In a democratic state, every citizen has the right to vote for their preferred leader. However, something unusual occurred during the 2026 election in India. The Election Commission of India conducted a Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of the electoral roll, resulting in the removal of approximately 9 million voters, meaning that 12% of the state’s electorate was eliminated. A significant number of those removed belonged to the Muslim community. Additionally, out of the 2.7 million pending tribunal cases, 65% involved Muslim voters. It means about 1.7 million Muslim voters were removed from the electoral roll in West Bengal.

This case has followed the same pattern that has been established over the past 15 years. Before that, India’s elections were based on democratic principles and served as an example for other modern states by granting voting rights to citizens based on their citizenship, rather than on status, religion, or other factors.

When India adopted universal adult franchise in 1950, it was a significant step, especially at a time when many modern Western states were still restricting voting rights based on property ownership, gender, and literacy. India provided its citizens, regardless of their social status, whether poor or rich, literate or illiterate, the opportunity to vote from day one. This was a radical move by the Indian government at that time. For the Indian government, being a citizen was enough to qualify for voting.

A significant shift occurred in 2010 when the Election Commission of India began conducting electoral roll purification. The main purpose was to remove duplicate votes and deceased voters. However, this initiative began to evolve into something more complex. In 2018, the National Register of Citizens (NRC) was established by the government to address the issue of illegal migrants in Assam; it inadvertently targeted many Bengali-speaking Muslims who were Indian citizens. While the NRC aimed to remove illegal migrants, the process resulted in the exclusion of over 1.9 million individuals, many of whom could prove their citizenship but became trapped in procedural hurdles.

Similarly, the Special Intensive Revision (SIR) was established by the Election Commission of India as a tool to help purify the electoral roll by removing duplicate voters. However, in 2026, the SIR removed 9 million voters based on a vague new category called “logical discrepancy,” which led to the exclusion of millions without clear evidence.

Therefore, the pattern is clear from NRC to SIR; targeting of the Muslim community is evident. The government uses “infiltrator” rhetoric to justify deletions, then creates procedural complexities that are nearly impossible for poor and rural populations to solve. This is how the right to vote is taken from them.

International organizations like the United Nations Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD) also highlighted the racial discrimination against Bengali-speaking Muslim communities in January 2026 in India. They formally cited that procedural irregularities and vague definitions lead to misappropriated exclusions from the electoral roll. CERD’s findings establish that what happened in West Bengal is not an isolated administrative error but part of a documented pattern of racial discrimination.

Another important concern is that the SIR not only removed Muslim voters but also altered the political landscape where Muslims could exercise their influence. Before the SIR, Muslim voters had historically helped the TMC win. Muslim-majority districts like Murshidabad and Malda were TMC strongholds. However, when the SIR removed 1.7 million Muslim voters, the BJP formed its first government in West Bengal. In Murshidabad, the TMC dropped from 20 seats in 2021 to just 9 in 2026, and in North 24 Parganas, the TMC fell from 28 seats to 8.

Racism became even clearer when, upon winning the election, BJP leader Adhikari referred to Muslim voters as “Kattarwadi” (fanatic or hardliner). He said: “The Hindu people of Nandigram made me win again. There, the entire Muslim vote went to the TMC. They are Kattarwadi. I will work for the Hindus of Nandigram”. In his statement, he clearly mentioned that he will work for the Hindu community only; also, the purpose of the SIR was not purification at all; it was to remove the Muslim community’s influence from politics. The BJP leader openly announced that the removed Muslims were largely anti-BJP. This shows how the government can use administrative processes for its own interests.

The West Bengal election shows how fragile India’s democracy is. We cannot call an election democratic when it takes place without millions of voters. Universal adult franchise was one of the most radical steps taken by India. However, today this commitment is compromised by administrative decisions about which citizens matter.

The 2026 election held in India was not democratic at all, because democracy does not mean merely whether elections were held, but whether every citizen is counted or not.

In early 2020, the world learned how quickly fear can redraw the boundaries of freedom. Borders closed overnight. Entire populations were confined to their homes. Emergency powers expanded with little resistance. Digital surveillance systems, once considered extraordinary, became ordinary almost instantly. For many governments, the pandemic was not only a public health crisis but also a moment of unprecedented political authority.

Now, as the H5N1 avian influenza virus continues spreading across bird populations and increasingly appears in mammals and sporadic human cases, old anxieties are returning. Public health agencies insist the current risk to the general public remains low, yet the language of “preparedness,” “monitoring,” and “emergency response” is once again dominating headlines.

The question is no longer merely scientific. It is deeply political and moral: if another serious pandemic emerges, will societies once again surrender fundamental freedoms in the name of collective safety?

The Shadow of COVID-19 Still Lingers

H5N1 is not a new virus. It has circulated for decades among birds, but recent outbreaks have alarmed epidemiologists because of the virus’s spread across species, including dairy cattle and other mammals. Human infections remain relatively rare, yet health agencies continue close surveillance because influenza viruses mutate rapidly.

The concern is understandable. Since 2003, the World Health Organization has recorded hundreds of confirmed human H5N1 infections, many of them severe. The memory of COVID-19 ensures that governments are unlikely to treat any emerging virus casually again.

But preparedness is not the same thing as permanent emergency rule.

One of the most consequential lessons from COVID-19 was how easily extraordinary powers became normalized. Measures initially introduced as temporary often expanded far beyond their original scope. Governments tracked movement through digital applications, restricted religious gatherings, censored dissenting opinions online, and criminalized ordinary social behavior in the name of public health.

Even years later, many societies still debate whether all those measures were proportionate.

The danger during crises is not only disease itself. It is the political temptation to govern through fear.

Fear Has Always Expanded State Power

History repeatedly shows that emergencies strengthen centralized authority. Wars, terrorist attacks, and pandemics often produce the same political effect: citizens accept restrictions they would normally reject.

The American economist and historian Robert Higgs called this phenomenon the “ratchet effect,” where state power expands dramatically during crises but rarely returns fully to previous limits afterward.

Pandemics are especially powerful in this regard because fear of disease touches every aspect of life. Unlike wars, where danger may seem distant, infectious outbreaks create anxiety around neighbors, workplaces, schools, and even family members. Fear transforms ordinary human interaction into something suspicious.

This atmosphere makes liberty appear secondary.

During COVID-19, phrases like “follow the science” were sometimes used not as invitations for scientific inquiry but as tools to discourage debate. Citizens who questioned policies were frequently portrayed as threats to public safety rather than participants in democratic discussion.

If H5N1 were ever to develop sustained human-to-human transmission, governments would likely face immense pressure to reintroduce restrictions. The crucial issue is whether free societies have learned enough from recent history to resist repeating the excesses of the past.

Liberty and Public Health Are Not Enemies

A false choice often emerges during crises: either accept unrestricted government control or embrace chaos. Yet this framing misunderstands both liberty and public health.

Free societies are fully capable of responding to epidemics without abandoning constitutional principles.

Transparent communication, voluntary cooperation, decentralized medical innovation, and targeted protections for vulnerable populations can be highly effective without resorting to indefinite emergency powers. In fact, public trust is often stronger when governments treat citizens as responsible participants rather than subjects to be managed.

The philosopher Friedrich Hayek once warned that emergencies create conditions where temporary coercion easily becomes permanent habit. His warning feels especially relevant today.

Public health matters profoundly. Infectious diseases are real threats. But freedom is not a luxury reserved only for stable times. Civil liberties become most important precisely during moments of fear and uncertainty.

Restrictions on movement, worship, speech, and privacy should therefore face the highest scrutiny, not the lowest.

The Surveillance State Never Fully Disappears

One of the least discussed legacies of the COVID era was the rapid expansion of surveillance infrastructure.

Governments and technology companies developed systems capable of tracking movement patterns, health data, and social interactions at enormous scale. Some countries introduced vaccine passport systems that effectively determined who could participate in public life. Others normalized large-scale data collection under emergency authority.

Once these systems exist, governments rarely abandon them willingly.

The continued emphasis on “monitoring” and “surveillance” in H5N1 preparedness discussions reflects a broader trend toward technocratic governance. While disease surveillance can play a legitimate role in outbreak response, the ethical question concerns limits.

Who controls the data? How long is it stored? Can emergency tools later be repurposed for political or social control?

Free societies must ask these questions before the next crisis arrives, not after.

The Real Test of a Free Society

The true measure of liberty is not how societies behave during calm periods. It is how they behave under pressure.

A society committed to freedom must be able to confront danger without surrendering its principles at the first sign of fear. Otherwise, liberty becomes conditional, existing only when it is convenient.

At present, major health organizations still assess the overall public risk from H5N1 as low, with no sustained human-to-human transmission detected. But the public conversation surrounding the virus reveals something deeper than epidemiology. It reveals how fragile modern commitments to freedom can become once fear dominates political life.

The challenge ahead is not simply preparing hospitals or vaccines. It is preparing societies to defend both human life and human liberty at the same time.

Because history suggests that viruses eventually fade. Emergency powers often do not.

Edraak is our newsletter that honours the Muslim world’s diversity, reflected in the multitude of its socio-economic conditions and political institutions spanning across the continents. Traced back to its Arabic origins, إدراك encompasses timely and thorough insights into the developments of the Muslim-majority countries.

We organise the Muslim-majority countries into four zones as per their current conditions of conflict, transition, stability, and development.

Learn More About the Four Zones

Zone I: Experiencing War, Conflict, Oppression, Genocide

Knesset passes October 7 tribunal law, death penalty, livestreamed trials, torture-extracted evidence admissible

On 11 May, the Knesset voted unanimously to establish a special military tribunal for roughly 300 Palestinians held since October 7, 2023. Three judges can impose death by majority vote; proceedings will be broadcast live; evidence obtained under “coercive conditions” is admissible. Co-sponsor Malinovsky compared it to Nuremberg, a comparison rights group Adalah called grotesque, noting Israel still holds 1,300 Palestinians from Gaza without charge. The law creates a parallel justice system with lower evidentiary standards applied exclusively to one population. That is not justice; it is the architecture of state-sanctioned execution.

Zone II: Transition toward Peace and Stability

Lebanon postpones elections to 2028

Lebanon’s parliament voted on 9 March to extend its own mandate to 2028. This action has been opposed by most Christian parties, who wanted a shorter deferral. On 13 May, Israeli forces crossed the Litani River with armoured vehicles and struck Deir Zahrani, Zawtar, and Tyre. The electoral postponement reflects both the wartime reality and Hezbollah’s political calculation: facing severe military and financial losses, the country cannot afford a 2026 vote while reconstruction has not begun in the south. Nawaf Salam’s technocratic government, the first competent executive Lebanon has had in years, continues to pursue IMF reforms and banking restructuring, but without a renewal of the democratic mandate in sight.

Zone III: Stable but Economically Struggling

Two Adhadhu journalists jailed on 12 May, one for asking the President a question, one for reporting on the gag order

Reporter Mohamed Shahzan was sentenced to 15 days and fined $1,620 after asking President Muizzu at a press conference why he made late-night calls to a former aide, the allegation at the centre of Adhadhu’s documentary Aisha. Journalist Leevan Nasir got 10 days for reporting on the court’s own gag order banning coverage of the documentary. Both were taken to Maafushi Jail after closed-door hearings. Adhadhu had already been raided, laptops seized, and its CEO’s passport frozen under an Islamic adultery charge.

Zone IV: Developed or Emerging Economies with Peace and Stability

Arts Olimpia 2026: 2,000 young performers across Baku’s stages

On 2–3 May, Baku’s Rashid Behbudov Theatre and State Children’s Philharmonic hosted Azerbaijan’s largest annual youth arts competition. Around 2,000 participants from eight cities performed across folk, academic, and pop vocals, instruments, choreography, theatrical recitation, and fine arts. JAM SS Theatre’s ensemble took the Grand Prix. ICYF President Aziz Azizov called it “key to cultural dialogue among youth.“ In a region where cultural expression often requires state sanction, a competition that draws 2,000 young performers from across an entire country and declares a theatre ensemble the winner is a meaningful act of cultural liberty.

Konya inaugurated as OIC Youth Capital 2026 on 11 May

Konya received the OIC Youth Capital 2026 title on 11 May at the Selçuklu Congress Center, beating Iran’s Tabriz and Uzbekistan’s Tashkent. Delegations from 40 OIC member states attended. The ICYF-run year includes cultural camps, media training, and a “Gaza Tribunal Aftermath Forum”. Bangladesh called for an OIC Games; Indonesia called Konya “where youth can bridge heritage and future.” Designating a city rooted in tradition as the Islamic world’s youth capital, in the same year that a Gaza tribunal law was passed, is itself a statement about what culture chooses to remember.

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The Faith We Are Given

For many, Islam begins not as a decision but as an environment. It is the sound of the adhan before one understands its meaning, the habit of fasting before one reflects on its purpose, the quiet expectation of prayer before one feels its depth. This is inherited Islam. It is received through family, culture, and community, often wrapped in warmth and belonging.

There is something undeniably powerful about this inheritance. It gives identity early, anchors a person in a tradition, and offers a moral language before one even begins to question it. A child does not choose their first understanding of faith, they absorb it. They learn what it means to be Muslim through observation long before reflection enters the picture.

Yet inheritance, by its nature, does not require understanding. It can exist comfortably without questioning. One may know how to perform the rituals of Islam while remaining distant from their meaning. Prayer becomes movement, fasting becomes routine, and belief becomes assumption. The form is present, but the depth is still waiting to be discovered.

The Moment of Questioning

At some point, often quietly, a shift begins. It may come through exposure to different ideas, through personal hardship, or simply through growing awareness. A person starts to ask why. Why do I believe what I believe? Why does this practice matter? Why does Islam ask what it asks?

This moment is sometimes uncomfortable. Questioning inherited faith can feel like stepping outside something familiar and safe. But it is also necessary. Without it, faith risks remaining shallow, vulnerable to doubt because it has never been examined.

Many young Muslims today experience this transition in subtle ways. A university student might encounter philosophies that challenge religious assumptions. A working professional might struggle to reconcile ethical dilemmas with what they were taught growing up. A person scrolling through social media might come across conflicting interpretations of Islam and feel unsure which one reflects the truth.

These moments are not signs of losing faith. They are often the beginning of choosing it.

Choosing Islam with Intention

Chosen Islam is not separate from inherited Islam, it is what grows out of it when reflection takes place. It is the moment when a person no longer practices simply because they were raised that way, but because they have come to believe in it.

This shift transforms everything. Prayer is no longer an obligation to complete but a space to return to. Fasting is no longer just hunger and restraint but a discipline that shapes the self. The Quran is no longer a text recited for reward alone but a message engaged with for guidance.

One of the most striking contemporary examples can be seen in converts to Islam. Many come to the faith after long periods of searching. They read, question, compare, and reflect before making a decision. When they accept Islam, it carries a clarity that comes from choice. They often describe a sense of certainty not because they inherited it, but because they arrived at it.

What is interesting is that many born Muslims who later reconnect with their faith describe a similar experience. They speak of rediscovering Islam as if encountering it for the first time. In reality, they are moving from inheritance to intention.

Separating Culture from Faith

A major part of this journey involves learning to distinguish between Islam and the cultural practices often attached to it. In many societies, the two are deeply intertwined. Traditions passed down through generations are sometimes treated as religious obligations, even when they are not.

This can create confusion, especially for those trying to understand Islam on its own terms. A person may feel restricted not by the faith itself, but by interpretations shaped by culture. When they begin to question these practices, it can feel like rebellion, when in fact it is a form of clarification.

Scholars have long emphasized the importance of this distinction. Ibn Taymiyyah wrote that faith must be grounded in knowledge and conviction, not blind imitation. This idea remains deeply relevant. A faith that is merely copied can feel heavy or inconsistent. A faith that is understood becomes coherent and meaningful.

Faith That Endures

The difference between inherited and chosen Islam becomes most visible in moments of difficulty. When life becomes uncertain, a borrowed faith can feel distant. It may not provide the answers or the stability one needs because it was never fully internalized.

Chosen Islam, however, tends to endure. A person who understands why they believe is more likely to turn toward faith in hardship rather than away from it. Their belief is not dependent on ease or environment. It is rooted in something deeper.

This does not mean that chosen faith is free from doubt. It means that doubt becomes part of the journey rather than a threat to it. Questions are engaged with, not avoided. Struggles are processed, not ignored.

From Identity to Conviction

Inherited Islam gives a person a place within a tradition. Chosen Islam gives them a relationship with it. One provides identity, the other provides conviction.

The goal is not to discard what was inherited. It is to grow beyond its surface. The rituals, the teachings, the practices all remain, but they are no longer carried passively. They are understood, reflected upon, and lived with intention.

In the end, faith is not only about where one begins. It is about whether one chooses to continue with awareness. Islam, when truly lived, is not simply something a person is born into. It is something they come to know, to understand, and ultimately to choose.

“Liberty is not a means to a higher political end. It is itself the highest political end.” — Lord Acton

For centuries, many Western thinkers have treated Islam as civilization’s permanent “other.” In their imagination, Europe became the home of liberty while Muslim societies became symbols of obedience, fatalism, and authoritarianism. The story was repeated so often that it began to sound like historical fact. But like many powerful narratives, it was built on selective memory.

Some of the same thinkers who praised liberty also defended empire, colonial domination, and the “civilizing mission” imposed on Muslim lands. Their understanding of freedom often stopped at Europe’s borders.

One of the clearest examples is John Stuart Mill, celebrated as one of the greatest philosophers of liberty. Mill famously wrote that “the only freedom which deserves the name” is the freedom to pursue one’s own good in one’s own way. Yet the same Mill also argued that “despotism is a legitimate mode of government in dealing with barbarians.”

That contradiction matters.

Muslim societies were often placed into this category of supposedly “uncivilized” peoples who needed foreign control before they could become free. Liberty, in this worldview, was not universal. It was conditional. Europeans were ready for it. Others were not.

The irony is difficult to ignore. While European intellectuals accused Islam of being hostile to liberty, European empires were occupying Egypt, Algeria, India, Sudan, and countless other Muslim regions by force. Colonial governors censored newspapers, crushed dissent, and ruled without democratic consent while claiming to teach Muslims the meaning of freedom.

The problem was never simply Islam. It was that Muslim societies challenged Europe’s belief that it alone represented civilization.

The Myth That Islam Rejects Individual Freedom

A common Western assumption is that Islam only values obedience and leaves no room for individuality. This argument usually comes from reading Islam through the lens of medieval monarchies or modern dictatorships rather than through its foundational texts and intellectual traditions.

But Islamic history tells a more complicated story.

The Qur’an repeatedly appeals to reason, reflection, and moral responsibility. Human beings are addressed as thinking individuals accountable for their own choices. “There is no compulsion in religion” is not merely a theological slogan. It reflects a broader moral principle about conscience and belief.

Classical Muslim civilization also developed traditions of legal disagreement that many modern societies still struggle to tolerate. Scholars debated publicly across schools of thought for centuries. A jurist could disagree with another scholar without declaring him outside the faith. Intellectual plurality was not viewed as civilizational weakness but as part of scholarly life.

Western critics often describe Islamic law as rigid, yet Islamic jurisprudence historically contained diverse interpretations across regions and schools. In some periods of history, Muslims, Christians, and Jews lived under systems that allowed communal autonomy long before Europe embraced modern religious tolerance.

None of this means Muslim societies were perfect. They were not. Muslim empires committed injustices just as European powers did. But reducing Islamic civilization to tyranny while portraying Western civilization as naturally liberal is historically dishonest.

Freedom According to Whom?

Many Western thinkers define liberty almost entirely in terms of radical individual autonomy. The ideal human being becomes someone detached from tradition, religion, and inherited moral limits.

Islam approaches freedom differently.

In Islamic thought, freedom is not simply the removal of restraints. It is liberation from domination by other human beings, by greed, by ego, and by injustice. A person addicted to power, wealth, or desire may appear “free” in a modern liberal sense while remaining deeply enslaved internally.

This is why many Muslim thinkers see moral discipline not as the enemy of liberty but as one of its conditions.

Muhammad Iqbal once warned against societies that worship material freedom while neglecting the human soul. He admired aspects of Western dynamism and scientific progress, yet criticized a civilization that could produce both democracy and colonial exploitation at the same time.

That criticism still feels relevant today.

Modern Western states often present themselves as guardians of universal liberty while supporting dictatorships abroad, surveilling populations, restricting speech during political crises, or treating Muslim religious expression as inherently suspicious. Debates over hijabs, minarets, Islamic schools, and Muslim immigration frequently reveal that “freedom” becomes negotiable when Islam enters the conversation.

The Selective Memory of History

Another major misunderstanding is the belief that liberty itself is an exclusively Western invention.

This ignores centuries of intellectual exchange.

European philosophers inherited mathematics, philosophy, medicine, and political thought through contact with Muslim civilization. Cities like Cordoba and Baghdad were centers of learning while much of medieval Europe was still emerging from political fragmentation. Muslim scholars preserved and expanded Greek philosophy, influencing later European intellectual development.

Even the idea that authority should be morally constrained existed deeply within Islamic political thought. Many Muslim scholars openly challenged rulers and argued that unjust governance violated Islamic principles. The belief that power must answer to ethics was never foreign to Islam.

The real issue is that many Western narratives measure liberty only through secular liberal standards. If freedom does not look European, it is often dismissed as incomplete or false.

But civilizations define human flourishing differently.

A society where family bonds, spiritual purpose, and communal ethics matter deeply may not fit modern liberal expectations, yet that does not automatically make it oppressive. Sometimes, the Western demand that every culture become a mirror image of Europe becomes its own form of intellectual intolerance.

Beyond the False Choice

The debate between Islam and liberty is often framed as if Muslims must choose one or the other. But history shows that Muslims have long struggled for justice, dignity, constitutionalism, and limits on power in ways rooted within their own traditions.

The real question is not whether Islam can coexist with liberty.

It is whether modern discussions of liberty are willing to move beyond colonial assumptions and recognize that freedom may have more than one intellectual language.

Because once liberty becomes the monopoly of one civilization, it quietly stops being liberty at all.

“Civilizations are born from cohesion and die from excess.”

Long before modern political scientists began writing theories about social collapse, a 14th century Muslim scholar was already studying why empires rise, flourish, and eventually decay. His name was Ibn Khaldun, and in many ways, he understood power more clearly than some modern governments do today.

Writing in the Muqaddimah, Ibn Khaldun argued that civilizations are not destroyed overnight by foreign enemies alone. They weaken from within. Wealth changes people. Comfort changes rulers. Luxury slowly replaces discipline, and societies that once survived through unity begin collapsing under their own weight.

More than six centuries later, his ideas feel almost unsettlingly modern.

The Power of Asabiyyah

At the center of Ibn Khaldun’s philosophy was the concept of asabiyyah which roughly translates to social cohesion or collective solidarity. He believed strong civilizations are built when people share a sense of common purpose larger than themselves.

This is why, according to him, small desert tribes often defeated powerful empires. They possessed resilience, discipline, loyalty, and sacrifice while wealthy empires had grown comfortable and fragmented.

“Their courage is greater than that of sedentary people,” Ibn Khaldun wrote about tribal societies. “They are closer to being good than sedentary people because they are further from evil habits.”

He was not romanticizing poverty. He was describing a pattern. Groups bound by struggle often possess stronger unity than societies consumed by luxury and internal competition.

History repeatedly proved him right.

The early Muslim community rose from the harsh conditions of Arabia to build one of history’s greatest civilizations within decades. The Mongols emerged from the steppes and shattered kingdoms far richer than themselves. Even modern revolutions often begin with tightly connected groups confronting societies that appear powerful on the surface but hollow underneath.

When Comfort Becomes a Weakness

One of Ibn Khaldun’s most striking observations was that civilizations often destroy themselves through success.

The first generation builds.
The second enjoys stability.
The third inherits luxury without understanding the struggle that created it.

Eventually rulers become obsessed with maintaining privilege instead of serving society. Taxes rise. Corruption spreads. Institutions weaken. Citizens stop feeling connected to one another and begin identifying only with personal interest.

At that point decline becomes difficult to stop.

It is impossible to read Ibn Khaldun today without thinking about modern societies struggling with polarization, mistrust, and political exhaustion. Many technologically advanced nations appear materially successful yet socially fractured. People are more connected digitally than ever before but increasingly isolated emotionally and politically.

In many countries, citizens no longer trust governments, media institutions, or even each other. Public life becomes driven by outrage rather than shared responsibility. Ibn Khaldun would likely recognize this immediately as the erosion of asabiyyah.

America, Consumerism, and the Fear of Decline

Some modern historians and political analysts have compared Ibn Khaldun’s ideas to the anxieties surrounding contemporary superpowers, especially the United States.

America remains enormously influential economically and militarily, yet debates about cultural decline have become increasingly common. Political tribalism is intensifying. Trust in institutions continues to fall. Consumerism dominates public culture while loneliness and social fragmentation rise simultaneously.

The concern is not simply economic decline. It is moral and civic exhaustion.

Ibn Khaldun believed civilizations collapse when citizens lose the willingness to sacrifice for the collective good. Once societies prioritize comfort over responsibility, decline accelerates quietly from within before it becomes visible externally.

This does not mean collapse is inevitable tomorrow. Civilizations can survive for centuries even while weakening internally. But Ibn Khaldun’s warning was that decay often begins long before people admit it exists.

What Makes His Theory So Timeless

What makes Ibn Khaldun remarkable is that he refused to explain history through simplistic morality tales. He did not claim societies survive merely because they are rich, religious, or militarily powerful. Instead, he examined human behavior itself.

Power changes people.
Success changes priorities.
Luxury changes culture.

That cycle, for him, was almost universal.

Modern sociology, political science, and economics now study many of the same patterns he observed centuries ago. Scholars discuss social capital, institutional trust, collective identity, and civic decline using different vocabulary, but the underlying questions remain strikingly similar to Ibn Khaldun’s work.

Some even call him the father of sociology because of how deeply he analyzed the mechanics of societies rather than simply recording historical events.

The Lesson Modern Societies Ignore

Perhaps the most important part of Ibn Khaldun’s philosophy is that civilizations are not immortal.

Every empire in history believed, at some point, that its dominance was natural and permanent. Rome believed it. The Abbasids believed it. European colonial powers believed it. Yet history continued moving forward.

Ibn Khaldun forces societies to ask uncomfortable questions.

What holds people together beyond wealth?
Can a civilization survive once individualism completely replaces collective responsibility?
What happens when citizens consume endlessly but no longer believe in shared purpose?

These questions feel urgent today because modern societies often measure success almost entirely through economics and technology while neglecting the social bonds that actually sustain civilizations.

A nation can possess skyscrapers, advanced weapons, and enormous wealth yet still be internally fragile.

Ibn Khaldun understood that long before the modern world did.

And perhaps that is why a scholar writing in the 1300s still feels terrifyingly relevant in the 21st century.

In almost every modern economy, the same question keeps returning in different forms: what does a society owe its weakest people?

Some answer through capitalism and market freedom. Others answer through welfare states, taxation, and redistribution. But long before modern governments created social security programs or public welfare systems, Islam had already introduced an economic obligation that treated poverty not as unfortunate background noise, but as a moral concern tied directly to wealth itself.

That system was zakat.

Today, conversations about inequality are impossible to ignore. Across the world, prices continue to rise while many people struggle with debt, unstable jobs, and basic living costs. At the same time, wealth continues to concentrate in the hands of a small percentage of society. In this environment, zakat feels relevant not only as a religious obligation, but also as a different way of thinking about economics and responsibility.

More Than Charity

Zakat is often described as charity, but that comparison does not fully explain its role in Islam.

Charity is voluntary. Zakat is required.

For Muslims who meet a certain financial threshold, a portion of wealth must be given to specific groups in society, including the poor, widows, orphans, travelers, and those struggling with debt. The important point is that this is not presented as generosity alone. It is treated as a duty.

This creates a different attitude toward wealth itself. In many modern systems, wealth is seen mostly as private ownership. Islam recognizes private property and encourages trade and business, but it also teaches that wealth carries responsibility. A person’s success is not viewed entirely separately from the condition of the society around them.

The Qur’an repeatedly links prayer with zakat, connecting worship with social responsibility. Faith is not limited to personal spirituality alone; it also includes concern for economic justice and the well-being of others.

Welfare States and Social Responsibility

Modern welfare systems attempt to reduce inequality through government programs. Taxes are collected and redistributed through healthcare, unemployment support, pensions, education, and housing assistance.

Countries such as Sweden and Norway are often used as examples of successful welfare models because they combine strong economies with lower poverty rates and broader public support systems.

There are similarities between welfare systems and zakat. Both recognize that societies cannot function well when large sections of the population are left behind.

However, the reasoning behind them is somewhat different.

Modern welfare systems are mainly built around the relationship between citizens and the state. Zakat, on the other hand, is tied to moral and spiritual accountability. Helping vulnerable people is not only a political issue or economic policy; it becomes part of a person’s ethical obligations before God.

That moral dimension changes the way wealth and poverty are understood. Assistance is not framed simply as state spending or economic management. It becomes part of maintaining justice and balance within society.

Capitalism and Its Limits

Modern capitalism has brought enormous technological progress and economic growth. It has created opportunities, expanded industries, and improved living standards in many parts of the world.

At the same time, capitalism is often criticized for widening inequality and encouraging excessive individualism. Success is frequently measured through profit, income, and consumption, while social responsibilities receive less attention.

This is where Islamic economic ethics differ. Islam does not oppose business, trade, or wealth creation. In fact, early Muslim societies were heavily involved in commerce. The Prophet Muhammad himself worked as a merchant before prophethood.

But Islamic teachings consistently warn against greed, hoarding, and indifference toward poverty. Wealth is viewed as something temporary and morally tested. The issue is not simply how much wealth exists, but how it is used and whether society benefits from it.

Welfare in Islamic History

Historically, zakat contributed to broader welfare structures across parts of the Muslim world. Charitable endowments and public institutions helped support hospitals, schools, travelers, and people facing hardship.

Cities such as Baghdad and Cordoba became known not only for scholarship and trade, but also for public welfare institutions funded through charitable systems.

Of course, Muslim societies were not free from inequality or political corruption. No civilization has been. But the idea that wealth should remain connected to social responsibility remained an important part of Islamic thought.

A Different Way of Looking at Wealth

One of the most interesting things about zakat is that it frames economics in moral terms. Modern debates often focus heavily on statistics, productivity, or economic growth. Those things matter, but they do not always answer deeper questions about fairness and dignity.

Zakat reminds society that poverty is not only an economic issue. It affects stability, human dignity, and social trust.

In a world where economic inequality continues to grow, that message still carries weight. The real question is not only how societies create wealth, but also how they choose to share responsibility for those left behind.

When people talk about political freedom today, it usually gets tied to modern democracy, elections, and constitutions. But if you actually go back into early Islam and it’s history, you find something more layered and honestly quite interesting. Power was there, of course, but it was not left unchecked in the way we often assume about early states. There was a constant tension between authority and accountability, and that shaped how governance actually worked.

The Constitution of Medina and Early Plural Governance

One of the earliest examples of political organization in Islamic history is the Constitution of Medina. When the Prophet Muhammad migrated to Medina in 622 CE, he entered a city that was not politically unified. Different tribes and Jewish communities lived there, each with their own systems and loyalties.

Instead of forcing one uniform structure, a shared agreement was formed. What stands out here is not just that people coexisted, but that their differences were formally acknowledged in a political arrangement. Each group kept its own internal affairs, while agreeing on collective responsibilities like defense and justice.

In simple terms, it wasn’t a “one system fits all” model. It was closer to a negotiated civic order where belonging came through agreement rather than force alone.

Consultation as a Governing Principle

A key idea that runs through early Islamic governance is shura, or consultation. The Qur’an itself encourages consultation in collective matters (Qur’an 42:38), and this wasn’t treated as something optional in early political culture.

Decisions were not meant to be made in isolation. Instead, discussion with trusted companions and members of the community played a real role in shaping outcomes. It didn’t erase leadership or authority, but it did place limits on how decisions were made. The idea was simple: governance works better when more voices are involved, especially on matters that affect everyone.

Accountability and the Rule of Law

One of the most striking features of early Islamic political life is how strongly the idea of accountability was taken. Leaders were not above legal or moral scrutiny, at least in principle and often in practice.

A well known case involving Ali ibn Abi Talib shows this clearly. In a dispute over a piece of armor, the case was brought before a judge. The ruling went in favor of a Jewish citizen because Ali did not provide sufficient evidence for his claim. Despite being the head of state, he accepted the judgment.

That moment is often mentioned in Islamic legal history not because it is unusual, but because it reflects what was expected: the ruler stands before the same law as everyone else. Authority did not automatically mean privilege in court.

Public Consent and Legitimacy

Another important idea was bay‘ah, the pledge of allegiance. Leadership was not simply inherited or imposed without recognition. It required some level of public acceptance.

Bay‘ah worked as a kind of public acknowledgment that a leader was accepted by the community. It was not a modern electoral system, but it still carried the idea that authority is not complete without social legitimacy. If people did not accept a leader, governance became unstable in practice, even if formal authority existed.

This is where political freedom shows up in a different form—not as voting rights, but as the idea that power needs consent to function meaningfully.

Islamic Political Thought and Ethical Governance

As Islamic societies expanded, scholars began to reflect more systematically on how power should work. One of the key figures in this intellectual tradition was Al-Mawardi. In his work Al Ahkam al Sultaniyya, he describes rulers as bound by responsibility, law, and justice, not just authority.

His writing is less about glorifying power and more about containing it within moral limits. Governance, in his view, only works properly when it is tied to justice and structured responsibility.

Later, Ibn Khaldun took things even further in his Muqaddimah. He looked at history almost like a cycle and argued that states rise when there is strong social cohesion and fall when injustice becomes widespread. For him, corruption wasn’t just a moral issue, it was political instability waiting to happen.

A Distinct Political Ethic

It would be inaccurate to call early Islamic societies “democracies” in the modern sense. That would be forcing a later concept onto a very different historical reality. But it is also inaccurate to see them as purely authoritarian systems.

What emerges instead is something more ethical than structural. Leadership was understood as a trust. Power was expected to be answerable. And governance, at least in its ideal form, was meant to operate through consultation and justice.

Three ideas keep appearing across sources:

Authority carries responsibility, not privilege
Consultation is part of decision making, not an afterthought
Legitimacy depends on trust between ruler and people

Conclusion

Early Islamic political life was not perfect, and it was never free of conflict or disagreement. But it did carry a strong expectation that power should be limited by ethics and accountability.

From the Constitution of Medina to judicial examples like Ali’s court case, and from scholars like Al-Mawardi to Ibn Khaldun, there is a consistent thread: political authority is not self-justifying. It has to be earned, maintained, and constantly held accountable.

That is where the idea of political freedom quietly sits in this tradition—not as a system, but as a principle that power is never meant to stand above the people it governs.

Saudia’s modernization agenda most visibly includes an entertainment transformation. With all the criticism, this event represents a unique opportunity for the Arab youth to engage in openness and a more socially flexible future. Under their Vision 2030, the Arab has invested billions into tourism and entertainment to amplify their economic diversification plan as introduced by Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman. This strategy focuses on developing sectors, separate from oil, that are capable of attracting investment, tourism, and employment. Entertainment has marked a central effort, with festivals, concerts, cinemas, and sporting events. According to official reports, Riyadh Season alone has attracted millions of visitors and has become one of the largest entertainment festivals in the region. However, the reaction to these developments remains deeply divided.

Critics argue that this rapid cultural liberalization risks weakening social and religious values that have historically shaped Saudi Society. Online debates reflected concerns about public modesty, gender mixing, and the growing normalisation of Western-Style entertainment. For some, the issue is not entertainment but the pace at which Arab social norms are changing. Others question whether modernization is being presented primarily through customer culture rather than broader civic freedoms.

Expanding entertainment spaces can definitely be viewed as an increase in personal freedom. Individuals are given more choice on how they want to spend their time, how they socialise, and what forms of culture they engage with. Public spaces that were once heavily restricted are becoming more open, particularly for younger generations. In this framework, freedom is often associated with autonomy and reduced intervention from the state. Yet the Saudi case complicates this understanding. Much of the country’s social liberalization is being introduced through top-down state initiatives rather than grassroots social movements. The state continues to maintain strong control over political expression and public criticism. This creates a paradox where cultural openness expands while political space remains tightly managed.

The discussion becomes even more layered as Islam places importance on concepts of modesty and communal ethics in public spaces. However, historically, Islamic governance has emphasized balance, consultation, and public welfare. This creates room for interpretation regarding how societies adapt to changing cultural realities while maintaining moral principles. This debate is not simply between religion and freedom. Rather, it reflects competing ideas about how freedom itself should function within a society and whether liberty prioritizes individual choice above collective cultural norms. There must be a way to engineer social openness while preserving religious identities.

The Saudi Transformation illustrated a broader reality facing many Muslim-majority societies today. Economic modernization and global integration ultimately bring social change, especially when the youth are exposed to global culture through media and technology. At the same time, religion and culture have a dominant impact on shaping culture, identity, and laws of a community. The real challenge is to adapt to these ever-changing trends without reducing the debate to “modern vs. tradition.” The real focus must be on navigating how societies expand personal freedoms while maintaining a sense of cultural and ethical continuity. Currently, this question persists in the Saudi context as it renegotiates the meaning of liberty and freedom itself.

On 17th April 2026, Nigeria’s Broadcast Commission (NBC) issued a formal notice that it would strictly enforce the 6th Edition of Nigeria’s Broadcasting Code against a TV and radio presenter, preventing them from expressing opinion on radio or television, which they describe as bullying or intimidating guests or spreading divisive content. Violations are classified as Class B breaches, which means that it is punishable by fines and licence suspensions.

NBC was created in 1992 with the main purpose of focusing on technical matters like issuing licenses and managing frequencies. However, things started to change during President Buhari's administration from 2015 to 2023. The institute started fining stations for reporting on different issues and imposing fines for vaguely defined hate speech.

Another more important concern is that Nigeria’s courts have given rulings several times that NBC cannot impose fines or sanctions. Despite having lost in court multiple times, the NBC issued the new directive anyway, threatening the same punishments that the courts have said it cannot impose. On 4th May 2026, the Federal High Court in Lagos granted an interim injunction restraining the NBC from enforcing its directive pending the determination of a substantive suit filed by SERAP and the Nigerian Guild of Editors.

Moving forward, another part of the issue is that it doesn’t impose fines or sanctions on other online platforms like Twitter, YouTube, TikTok, but only on TV and radio broadcasting. Most of the people from rural areas rely on TV and radio as their only source of information; they will not be able to get authentic news. People will also struggle to trust any news on any of these platforms.

Observers have also noted a clear pattern. Every time elections approach, the NBC tightens its rules. This happened in 2019, when the NBC fined 45 stations, though those fines were later thrown out by the courts. It happened again in 2023, when NBC threatened license revocations. Now, ahead of the 2027 elections, the commission has issued this new directive. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar has called this a pattern, stating that ethical standards in journalism should not be seasonal tools weaponized during campaigns.

To appreciate why this directive has sparked controversy, it helps to look back at Nigeria’s long relationship with press freedom. Although freedom of expression is constitutionally protected under Section 39 of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, the media landscape has historically navigated cycles of control. During military rule, from the 1960s until the 1990s, journalists were often arrested or silenced for criticizing the government. Even after Nigeria’s return to democracy in 1999, the country still faces challenges. For example, back in 2019, several Nigerian media houses were fined for broadcasting political content deemed harmful to national security.

This decision has stirred a lot of controversy. Some believe it is necessary to reduce hate speech. But for many others, the ban feels like a harsh restriction on the media’s ability to challenge the government. Atiku Abubakar publicly condemned the move as an attempt to “muzzle the media”. Rights groups such as SERAP and Amnesty International have echoed this concern, describing the directive as unlawful. SERAP has urged President Bola Tinubu to direct the NBC to immediately withdraw the “unlawful” formal notice.

From a perspective that values personal freedom, NBC’s directive is troubling. While the intent may be to curb hate speech, it risks undermining free speech. Robust and independent media play a vital role in holding governments accountable. When restrictions are placed on what can be debated, it creates a culture of silence where only one narrative dominates. When media outlets are censored, it becomes harder for citizens to understand the issues affecting them. This doesn’t just hurt democracy; it stifles progress and limits the exchange of ideas.

We must remain vigilant in defending the freedoms that keep us informed and empowered.

The Meaning of the Hijab

The hijab is one of those things people think they already understand. It shows up in headlines, debates, and arguments about Islam, and almost everyone seems to have a fixed opinion about it. But once you actually listen to people, it becomes clear that the meaning of the hijab is not fixed at all.

For some, it is tied to modesty and a sense of closeness to religion. For others, it feels like something shaped more by culture than faith. And then there are those who see it mainly through politics, either as a sign of control or as a statement of identity. The problem is that these interpretations are often imposed from the outside, without much attention to the lives of the people who actually wear the hijab.

Muslim Women and Everyday Choice

When people talk about the hijab, they often say they are speaking about Muslim women, but they rarely let them speak for themselves. Instead, the conversation gets divided into two extremes. Either the hijab is described as completely oppressive, or it is presented as purely empowering.

Reality is messier than that. Some women actively choose to wear the hijab because they see it as part of their Islamic identity. Others grow into it over time because of family or social expectations. And some struggle with it, moving between wanting to wear it and questioning it.

This does not mean choice does not exist. It means choice is shaped by surroundings. As Leila Ahmed, who traces how the veil has shifted in meaning across early Islamic societies, colonial debates, and modern revival movements, has shown, the hijab has carried different meanings in different periods. In A Quiet Revolution, she notes how the resurgence of veiling in the late twentieth century cannot be reduced to a single cause, but reflects a mix of faith, identity, and political context. It has not always meant the same thing, and it still does not.

Islam, Text, and Obligation

Within Islam, the hijab is often discussed as an obligation, but even here there is more than one view. Different scholars read the same text differently. Some see covering as clearly required, while others focus more broadly on the idea of modesty without reducing it to a specific form.

What often gets lost is that interpretation has always been part of Islamic thought. There has never been just one way of understanding these issues. But in many communities today, that space for disagreement feels smaller. The discussion becomes rigid, and questioning is seen as a problem rather than part of the tradition.

Gender and Pressure in Society

The debate around the hijab is also tied to gender in a very real way. Expectations about modesty are not applied equally. Women are more visible, more judged, and more likely to be told what they should or should not do.

In some places, choosing not to wear the hijab can lead to criticism or exclusion. In others, wearing it can create barriers. Laws in countries like France have introduced forms of ban on religious dress in public settings, often in the name of secular values. But these policies can limit access to education or work for those affected.

So the pressure comes from both directions. In one setting, there is pressure to cover. In another, pressure to uncover. Either way, the space for personal decision becomes smaller.

Islamophobia, Feminism, and Confusion

The conversation becomes even more complicated when it is shaped by islamophobia. The hijab is often used as a symbol to criticize Islam as a whole, which pushes some people to defend it more strongly, sometimes without acknowledging real issues.

At the same time, debates within feminism do not always agree. Some feminist voices see the hijab as something oppressive by definition. Others argue that telling women what not to wear is just another form of control. Neither side fully captures the whole picture.

The problem is when these arguments stop listening. When the discussion becomes about proving a point rather than understanding lived experiences, it stops being useful.

Beyond the Binary

It is tempting to look for a clear answer. Is the hijab a free choice or a form of pressure? But that question is too simple. In reality, it can be both, depending on the situation.

What matters more is whether women actually have the ability to decide for themselves. That includes freedom from family pressure, social judgment, and state control. Without that, talking about choice does not mean much.

A More Honest Way to Look at It

The hijab is not just about clothing. It sits at the intersection of religion, identity, and power. Treating it as a single, fixed symbol ignores how people actually experience it in their daily lives.

A more honest perspective would accept that there is no single story here. Some women wear the hijab with full conviction. Others feel pushed into it. Some remove it and face backlash. Others choose it in response to public hostility.

If there is a common thread, it is this. The real issue is not whether women wear the hijab, but whether they are given the space to decide what it means for them.

Imām al-Shāfiʿī’s (d. 820) al-Risāla is widely regarded as the first complete work of Islamic legal theory. Even influential orientalist studies—such as David Samuel Margoliouth’s (d. 1940) The Early Development of Mohammedanism, which relied heavily on al-Shāfiʿī’s al-Umm in interpreting the founder of uṣūl al-fiqh—demonstrate the limitations of interpreting a tradition through only partial access to its textual corpus. Significantly, Margoliouth died in 1940, the very year Aḥmad Shākir (d. 1958) published a far more rigorous critical edition of al-Risāla.

This essay addresses the question: what happens when Islamic tradition is approached primarily through expansion and proselytization (daʿwa), rather than through restoration, interpretation, and intellectual inheritance?

Consider the mausoleum of Muḥammad ibn Idrīs al-Shāfiʿī in Cairo. Al-Shāfiʿī, a 9th-century jurist, theologian, poet, and founder of one of the four major Sunni schools of law, remains a central figure in Islamic intellectual history. His mausoleum is part of a restoration project funded in part by the United States government—an initiative publicly acknowledged at the site and documented by the U.S. Embassy in Cairo.

What does it mean for a modern Western power to contribute to restoring the legacy of a foundational Islamic jurist? I leave this question open for reflection.

In secular societies, maintaining clear boundaries between the academic study of religion, its private or communal practice, and its public promotion is essential. The latter—known in Islamic terminology as daʿwa—can become contentious when it assumes organized, expansionist forms. While Western societies generally permit the construction of mosques, they are often less receptive to overt proselytization, especially when it is tied to movements seeking growth and influence.

This tension is not unique to the West. In many Muslim-majority countries, public proselytization of other religions—particularly when directed at Muslims—is restricted or prohibited. Thus, when Islamic expression in Europe shifts from personal practice or scholarly discourse toward organized expansion, it can provoke defensive reactions. These responses range from concerns about secular values to broader anxieties about the “Islamization” of Europe.

Yet the question remains: is this issue merely political or cultural, or does it also invite an internal Islamic critique?

From within the Islamic legal and intellectual tradition, one may argue that certain contemporary forms of expansion—particularly the proliferation of mosques—are not fully aligned with classical jurisprudential principles. To assess this claim, it is necessary to revisit the concept of the mosque itself.

In the Qurʾān, the term masjid often denotes a place of worship. A well-known ḥadīth, narrated in Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, states: “The earth has been made a place of prayer for me,” suggesting that any clean space may serve this purpose.

Over time, however, Islamic societies developed a more complex institution: the jāmiʿ (congregational mosque). Derived from the root jamaʿa (to gather), the jāmiʿ was not simply a place of prayer but a center of communal life—hosting education, governance, intellectual exchange, and social services. It embodied a broader civilizational vision.

Classical jurists were attentive to preserving this centrality. They often discouraged the unnecessary multiplication of mosques when it risked fragmenting the community. The following excerpts illustrate this concern:

Andalusian judge, Ibn Rushd al-jadd (d. 1126), was asked about a man who bypasses his local mosque to pray elsewhere. He replied: if he goes to the main congregational mosque, there is no issue; but if he goes to another mosque, this is not recommended unless the imām of the first is unjust (or unrighteous).

He further noted that this opinion is also reported from Imām Mālik (d. 795) (al-Bayān wa al-Taḥṣīl, 2/195).

Some ʿulamāʾ held that the Friday prayer is valid only in the main congregational mosque. Andalusian theologian and jurist, Al-Bājī (d. 1081), said that if an excuse prevents its establishment there, it should not be held elsewhere (al-Muqaddimāt al-Mumahhidāt, 1/222–223).

Tunisian jurist, Saḥnūn ibn Saʿīd (d. 854) stated: “There is no harm in building a second mosque in a village if its population is large and both are maintained. But if the population is small and the first mosque risks being abandoned, then it should be prevented, as it would constitute harm (ḍirār)” (Ibn ‘Arafa’s Mukhtaṣar, 1/356). These discussions reveal a structured and principled approach. The concern was not merely architectural but social: unity, cohesion, and the preservation of a shared intellectual and spiritual space. This is particularly significant given that these debates emerged in the Mediterranean context, where Muslims extended into southern European regions such as Crete, Cyprus, Sicily, and al-Andalus within a broader geopolitically confrontational environment.

The post-colonial era witnessed a more unstructured pattern of mosque construction, which later extended into the West. These mosques (masājid), however, could not—and still cannot—replace the traditional role of the central mosque (jāmiʿ), which historically provided care for women, the sick, the traveller, the homeless, and the vulnerable; education for children; and advanced instruction in madrasas that trained ʿulamāʾ, scientists, and intellectuals. As this fiqh-based spirit and heritage have been largely overlooked by modern Islamic movements focused on numerical growth and influence, the mosque has lost much of its function as a space for intellectual and cultural exchange with other traditions and religions in Western contexts.

Several counterarguments may be raised. One might argue that, in the West, there are not enough historical Islamic landmarks to serve as foundations for guiding Muslim communities and educating younger generations. Others may point to persistent sectarian divisions that make it difficult to gather all Muslims around a single institution, as different groups maintain their own symbolic and institutional attachments. However, these considerations do not justify the often chaotic construction of mosques in both Western and Eastern contexts, frequently driven by a limited awareness of the institution’s historical, legal, social, ethical, and civilizational dimensions.

To move from theory to practice, consider a concrete example. While managing the Grand Mosque of La Seyne-sur-Mer in Provence, France—the largest Islamic structure in the region, accommodating over 2,500 worshippers, yet lacking a library, museum, or comprehensive intellectual and educational program—I encountered a recurring challenge. Members of the community repeatedly sought funding to build additional mosques nearby, despite the evident absence of essential intellectual infrastructure in the existing center and the strong polarization within it. Its shelves were filled with pamphlets representing various daʿwa movements (Salafī, Tablīghī, Ikhwānī, and Aḥmadī), placed alongside copies of the Qurʾān. Meanwhile, the surrounding neighborhood—and the Muslim community in particular—faced serious social challenges, including drug addiction, criminal activity, and illegal immigration. This situation is not unique to this mosque, but reflects a broader pattern observable in France and other Western countries.

This contrast raises a fundamental question: what is the purpose of multiplying mosques if their foundational intellectual, social, and civilizational roles remain unfulfilled? Rather than restoring these roles, such spaces risk being overtaken by daʿwa movements driven by expansionist ambitions—movements that may contribute, at times, to the generalization of prejudice and suspicion toward Muslims on a global scale.

In conclusion, restoring classical works—both texts and institutions—and educating Muslims, particularly younger generations, through these original frameworks can foster cultural bridges and strengthen trust. One may recall, for instance, the U.S. contribution to restoring the space of learning and reflection associated with al-Shāfiʿī. What I have elsewhere described as the genealogy of Islamic legal thought in Europe may offer a safer, less confrontational, and more enriching path that better supports dialogue initiatives than the narratives of certain daʿwa movements, often shaped by claims of superiority, absolutism, and ideological agendas.

Al-Shāfiʿī profoundly influenced the 12th-century philosopher and theologian al-Ghazālī (d. 1111), who authored Maqāṣid al-falāsifa (The Objectives of the Philosophers). Its Hebrew translation was studied in a PhD dissertation by Rabbi Gershon Shertoff (d. 1984) in 1953. Notably, it was the United States that funded the restoration of the mausoleum of Imām al-Shāfiʿī, the father of Islamic legal theory, born in 767 in Gaza and buried in Cairo. This cooperation between Egypt and the United States highlights how the legacy of traditional Islam can serve as a bridge between cultures, fostering mutual recognition rather than division. It also reflects the inherently inclusive and multidisciplinary spirit of the Islamic intellectual tradition, which has historically engaged with law, theology, philosophy, and the humanities and continues to offer a shared space for dialogue across religious and cultural boundaries, unlike certain modernist exclusivist narratives or some contemporary daʿwa movements.

Edraak is our newsletter that honours the Muslim world’s diversity, reflected in the multitude of its socio-economic conditions and political institutions spanning across the continents. Traced back to its Arabic origins, إدراك encompasses timely and thorough insights into the developments of the Muslim-majority countries.

We organise the Muslim-majority countries into four zones as per their current conditions of conflict, transition, stability, and development.

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Zone I: Experiencing War, Conflict, Oppression, Genocide

Somalia Press Crackdown

Last Week, Southwest State banned journalists from reporting insecurity, terrorist attacks, clan conflict, or criticism of officials; Mogadishu’s police commander separately threatened criminal charges against anyone covering the president’s term limit. Since January, the Somali Journalists Syndicate has documented 18 violations, including one journalist shot dead by a Jubaland police officer on 2 March. This shows a deliberate blocking of public access to information about government actions, perpetuating cycles of impunity and civilian vulnerability.

Zone II: Transition toward Peace and Stability

Iran Internet Blackout

Iran’s internet shutdown became the longest in its history, over 30 days of near-total connectivity blackout as of early April, per CPJ. Diaspora journalists are receiving direct threats from security services and having Iranian assets seized, with family members inside Iran used as leverage. Mass internet blackouts function as tools of information control that strip citizens of their ability to verify facts, access independent sources, and even communicate with loved ones.

Zone III: Stable but Economically Struggling

FIFA Afghan Women’s Team

FIFA introduced a new rule formally recognising the Afghan Women’s National Football Team despite the Taliban’s blanket ban on women’s sport inside Afghanistan, allowing the team to continue competing internationally as a recognised entity, in exile, without requiring a functioning domestic federation. International institutional recognition of exiled athletes from authoritarian regimes establishes an important precedent by creating alternative pathways for participation when domestic governance actively suppresses fundamental freedoms.

Kano State and Nigeria Collaboration

The Kano State government confirmed active collaboration with the Federal Government to deliver infrastructure in education and health across the state, at a time when federal-state tensions over resource allocation are acute. N54.8 billion has already been allocated across sectors by the Federal Government. Such institutional cooperation on education and health infrastructure investments demonstrates how federal-state alignment can advance citizens’ access to essential services, countering the governance fragmentation that often disadvantages vulnerable populations.

Bahrain Criminalising Factual Public Records

Convicted under wartime charges including “promoting content supportive of Iran” and “publishing defence-related material,” freelance photographer Sayed Baqer Al-Kamel was sentenced to 10 years on 28 April for posting a video of a burning high-rise in Manama’s Seef and for posting condolences on the death of Supreme Leader Khamenei. Using vague “national security” and “wartime” charges to criminalise the documentation of factual public records transforms courts from arbiters of justice into instruments of press suppression.

Zone IV: Developed or Emerging Economies with Peace and Stability

ICESCO & IIFA MoU

The Islamic World Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation and the International Islamic Fiqh Academy signed a memorandum of understanding to jointly promote interfaith dialogue and develop Islamic scholarly frameworks to counter hate speech, a significant institutional alignment between two of the OIC’s most influential bodies.

Malaysia Refugee Registration

Malaysia’s new digital refugee registration system, which replaces UNHCR-issued cards with a government-run biometric database, has raised serious concerns among refugee communities and advocates: those not yet registered face increased risk of detention, and the system excludes refugees from legal employment and education pathways that the old UNHCR card informally enabled.

RSF World Press Freedom Index 2026

For the first time in the Index’s 25-year history, over 52.2% of all countries now fall in the “difficult” or “very serious” categories for press freedom. The 2026 global average score is the lowest ever recorded. Eastern Europe and MENA remain the most dangerous regions for journalists. The weaponisation of national security laws and the criminalisation of journalism represent a fundamental erosion of the freedom of expression that underpins democratic accountability, leaving citizens in two-thirds of the world without meaningful access to independently reported news.

Article Pick

Between Rusafa and Ramla

What Does An Islamic Government Look Like?

In 2022 I attended a conference in Abu Dhabi that was all about “strengthening the values of citizenship and coexistence.” I didn’t really want to go. This was not long after the UAE normalized relations with Israel in the so-called “Abraham” Accords, part of their foreign relations…

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a year ago · 159 likes · 12 comments · Firas Alkhateeb

On the day Kazakhstan’s ambassador presented the new constitution to Brussels as democratic, human rights organizations delivered a totally different verdict, questioning whether the reforms represent a new era or are once again increasing presidential power.

Before understanding the debate, we need to look at Kazakhstan’s constitutional history. Independent since 1991, a 1995 constitution under Nursultan Nazarbayev granted the president significant powers, including the ability to suspend parliament and the constitution during emergencies.

In 2019, Nazarbayev resigned, and Kassym-Jomart Tokayev took control. Change began in January 2022, when protesters demanded political reform during Bloody January. Tokayev suspended the government and removed Nazarbayev from his security post. Five months later, he announced a political reform plan called “New Kazakhstan.” Referendum held in June 2022 brought changes, i.e., the president must leave his party, relatives cannot hold senior jobs, the president serves one seven-year term, and the Constitutional Court was restored.

Moving to 2026, a new constitution was announced despite major reforms in 2022. Official results claim 87% support. Major changes include: a unicameral legislature giving more power to the president; a vice president appointed by the president, not elected; a new People’s Council (Halyk Kenesi) of 164 members appointed by the president with power to propose laws; international law cannot override Kazakh law; NGOs must make foreign funding public; and the right to strike was removed.

But does this make governance more efficient, or is it weakening democracy? At an April 20 roundtable in Brussels, Kazakhstan’s ambassador called these changes democratic progress. However, Human Rights Watch and the International Federation for Human Rights strongly disagreed.

The government’s claims do not align with the constitutional text. According to the government, the unicameral parliament will be more efficient and effective. However, it will increase the power of the president, like the older system of Kazakhstan. The president will have the power to appoint the chairman of parliament and can shut parliament down. The president-appointed council can bypass elected lawmakers whenever it seems appropriate to him. So, Kazakhstan’s new parliament is weaker, not stronger, than its predecessor.

Similarly, referendum results require skepticism. The 2022 referendum occurred in a “restrictive media environment”. The 2026 draft appeared ten days after the Constitutional Commission was established, leaving no room for revision. In state-controlled media, voters receive only the government’s framing. High numbers in managed systems tell us more about state control than public enthusiasm.

Removing international law as a priority is also problematic. As Amnesty International noted, the Constitutional Court can disregard international human rights decisions if deemed incompatible. Russia made the same change in 2020 and ignored European court rulings. Kazakhstan’s change opens the same door.

Moving forward, the vice president and the People’s Council add tools to presidential power. Both are appointed by the president. The vice president serves as a loyal successor. The People’s Council allows the president to bypass parliament.

Similarly, NGO funding raises concerns. Article 6, Section 5 requires full disclosure of foreign funding. Russia’s 2012 “foreign agent” law began similarly and expanded into fines and closures.

A fair look shows Kazakhstan’s new constitution shows that it gives more power to the president, not less. According to Chatham House, “The changes will cement Tokayev’s grip on power.” The OSCE/ODIHR found “a lack of transparency and inclusion in the drafting of a new constitution.”

Some things have improved Nazarbayev’s special status is gone, and the president now serves only one term. But most changes give the president more control: an appointed vice president, an appointed People’s Council that can make laws, no priority for international law, restrictions on NGOs, and the removal of the right to strike. The 87% voting result shows people were tired of the old system, not that they agreed with every new rule.

The real test will come in 2029, when Tokayev’s term ends, and we see if he leaves.

“Can freedom become a burden, too heavy for man to bear?” — Erich Fromm

The uneasy weight of being free

Freedom sounds simple until it becomes real. It is easy to demand it in slogans, much harder to live with its consequences. A person who is free is no longer guided by fixed roles or unquestioned authority. They must decide what to believe, how to live, and who to become. That sounds empowering, but it also strips away certainty.

Erich Fromm, in Escape from Freedom, noticed that this shift creates a strange kind of loneliness. Traditional structures once gave people a place in the world, even if that place was restrictive. Modern freedom removes those structures without always replacing them with something stable. The result is not always liberation. Sometimes it is disorientation, a psychological reaction to perceived threats.

Choice is not always comforting

The assumption that more choice leads to more happiness does not always hold. Psychologist Barry Schwartz has shown that when choices multiply, people often become less satisfied, not more. Too many options raise expectations and make regret more likely.

This helps explain a quiet resistance to freedom. If every decision feels consequential and uncertain, it becomes tempting to avoid deciding at all. Clear rules, traditions, or authorities begin to feel less like constraints and more like relief. They reduce the burden of constant judgment.

In this sense, freedom is not just the presence of options. It is the ability to carry the psychological weight that comes with them. Not everyone finds that easy.

Security has its own appeal

Human beings are not driven by freedom alone. They also seek stability, recognition, and belonging. In societies where these needs feel threatened, freedom can seem secondary.

After World War I, much of Europe experienced economic collapse and social fragmentation. Old hierarchies had weakened, but nothing secure had replaced them. Fromm argued that in such an atmosphere, many people did not simply lose their freedom. They turned away from it. Systems that promised order and clarity became attractive because they reduced uncertainty, restricting the freedom of choice.

This pattern has not disappeared. Even today, people often accept limits on their freedom if those limits are presented as necessary for safety or stability. The language changes, but the instinct is familiar.

Quiet ways of giving freedom up

Not all resistance to freedom is dramatic. It rarely looks like a conscious rejection of liberty. More often, it appears in everyday habits.

One of these is submission to authority. This does not always mean political dictatorship. It can take the form of strict ideological loyalty or unquestioned trust in institutions. The appeal lies in simplicity. Someone else defines what is right, and the individual no longer carries that burden alone.

Another is conformity. Here, there is no visible authority, yet people align themselves with prevailing opinions and social expectations. The pressure is subtle but powerful. It offers acceptance in exchange for independence. In digital spaces, this is especially visible. People adjust their views to fit dominant narratives, often without noticing the shift.

Fromm described this as becoming an “automaton,” someone who feels free but moves within boundaries set by others. It is not imposed control. It is internalized.

When freedom feels like too much

The most extreme response to freedom is not withdrawal but destruction. When individuals feel powerless in the face of uncertainty, they may try to eliminate the source of that uncertainty altogether. Fromm saw this impulse in the rise of Nazi Germany, where millions embraced a system that removed personal autonomy in exchange for identity and direction.

This was not simply a political failure. It reflected a deeper psychological need. Freedom, without support or meaning, had become something many people were willing to abandon.

A more difficult conclusion

Resistance to freedom is not irrational. It is rooted in the tension between independence and insecurity. Freedom asks individuals to stand on their own, but not everyone feels equipped to do so.

The real challenge, then, is not only to secure freedom in law or politics. It is to make it livable. That requires education that encourages independent thought, social conditions that reduce fear, and a culture that values responsibility as much as autonomy, exploring the balance between these elements.

Without these, freedom remains fragile, often perceived as a threat to stability. It is celebrated in theory but quietly avoided in practice.

In the middle of the Industrial Revolution, Marx observed the exploitation of labor by capitalists. In his study of the production process, Marx argued that all value is created in the production process and by the labor effort while the capitalist extracts the surplus value in the exchange process. As a result, he advocated the denial of private ownership of means of production so that labor could not be exploited by the capitalists.

Nevertheless, due to coordination and incentive problems, the radical policy suggested by Marx could not be fully implemented and wherever it was implemented to a smaller or larger extent, it was eventually abandoned.

The alternative mainstream neoclassical perspective rests on the market mechanism, in which economic agents make self-centric economic choices based on marginal valuations of costs and benefits. Hence, the mainstream economics literature since the second half of the twentieth century has focused more on economic choices by households to decide how much time should be allocated between leisure and labor supply.

In addition, the mainstream literature also focuses on labor market dynamics, agency conflicts, insider–outsider relationships, industrial organization, and other frictions that hinder market clearing in the labor market and result in persistent unemployment.

From an Islamic perspective, we do not fundamentally need to try to suggest a new positivist explanation of labor as a factor and explain labor market dynamics. However, it is vital to find the right balance between the two standard economic perspectives and to suggest ways to overcome coordination and incentive failure (as in Marxism) and to avoid labor exploitation and systemic inequalities in income distribution between capitalists and labor (as in capitalist economics).

A Critique of the Marxian View of Labor

In Marxian economics, it is argued that labor creates surplus value in the production process that capitalists extract in the exchange process. Marx said that the capitalist purchases the use value of labor (service) and pays labor something equivalent to the exchange value of labor time. It is barely enough to keep the labor survive. However, when the capitalist sells products created by “labor power,” these products command more exchange value and this excess is known as surplus value. The surplus accumulates and this is exploitation of labor by the capitalists.

However, upon closer inquiry, it is clear that the payoffs to labor and capitalists are different in the production process. Labor gets a fixed wage, whereas the capitalists earn variable profits from the sale of a good or service in the exchange process. Labor gets a fixed wage irrespective of profit to the capitalists, which could be negative.

It was rare for losses to occur at the height of the Industrial Revolution, but that does not suggest that profits are the necessary outcome of every production process for the capitalists. Capitalists compete among themselves and their competition in theory may in the long run bring prices down to the level of marginal cost in competitive markets. If there is allocative efficiency in the market, then the producer price is only as much as the cost of production, which only includes the normal profit for the entrepreneur.

Furthermore, in the countries where labor was exploited during the Industrial Revolution, per capita incomes have increased manifold. We know by experience and data that most new startup firms fail and not all capitalists are always able to reap value greater than labor from the production process. Hence, capitalists take the risk of uncertain profits, prices, and sales fluctuations and they must have an incentive to take the risk. The incentive is in the ability to make profit from the sale of products. But profits can be negative as well. As long as they are earning profits from the sale of goods (with intrinsic value) sold to willing buyers at competitively set market prices, Islam does not regard it as exploitation.

Further, social relations are no longer mutually exclusive. Employee stock ownership plans, general and limited partnerships, and joint stock companies have modified actor relations. In a joint stock company, there is no one big capitalist. There are small shareholders in large numbers who are workers in other organizations. Nowadays, scientists, programmers, and artists can have patents.

As per Marx, labor has only one thing which he can use to earn income: labor power. However, why does the laborer not become a capitalist? It can be said that the lack of seed capital acts as a constraint. But, in most developed countries, there are fewer constraints on borrowing. Then why do the majority of people not become entrepreneurs by choice? If the working class is always greater in number than the capitalists, then why do most democracies not overthrow the market system?

The fact of the matter is that markets create incentives and encourage competition, and that allows capital accumulation, technological change, economic growth, and the transaction of a wide range of goods as well as services.

According to the Islamic perspective, there is no harm if people specialize and engage in the voluntary trade of goods in a legal and ethical way. Islam does not recommend an arbitrary equal distribution of income for all people with diverse work efforts and skills. The promise in communism of equal wages and standards of living is very attractive at face value, especially to the masses, who generally do not have highly employable and demanded skills, access to quality education, and opportunistic circumstances.

The argument that each person as a human being should have equal rights and an equal standard of living seems convincing. However, it is a fact that people have different tolerances for risk, different innate abilities, different attitudes toward progression in life and career, and different levels of ambitions; as a result, they exert different levels of effort in acquiring education and skillsets and so their productivity levels are different. The difference in characteristics highlighted above may not necessarily be a result of discrimination or exploitation. Most of these could be controlled and determined by individuals and by their intertemporal choices. Equating everyone’s compensation despite these factors would be unjustified.

Labor in Neoclassical Theory

In classical economics, the labor theory of value was used as a framework to explain why the prices of some goods were higher than others. If the production of a commodity requires more labor effort, the price of such commodities will be higher than other commodities that require fewer labor hours to be produced.

This theory remained in vogue in the pre-Industrial Revolution era and Muslim thinkers like Ibn Khuldun explained it in their works long before Smith, Ricardo, and Marx used it to explain the production processes and determination of prices. Later on, this theory was replaced by marginal value and the marginal cost principle as a foundation for demand and supply behavior in the marketplace.

Another stream of literature in labor economics focuses on the labor market itself and how wages are determined in the labor market. Frictionless labor market equilibrium is a simple and useful framework to analyze comparative static results of supply shocks and technological advancement on equilibrium wage and employment. However, the frictionless model is not able to explain the presence of unemployment and vacancies at the same time. Search models tried to fill the gap by adding frictions in the model to incorporate the empirical realities of the labor markets.

Peter Diamond, Dale Mortensen, and Christopher Pissarides are some of the prominent contributors in this strand of literature. Diamond along with Mortensen and Pissarides explain wage determination in search models and how jobs are destroyed and created with frictions. This brand of literature is focused on a positive explanation of the empirical realities of labor market dynamics.

Another brand of literature in labor economics has tried to explain labor market rigidity, especially wage rigidity, to explain short-run business cycle fluctuations. The wage rigidity is explained on the basis of differential work effort by labor and the tendency of firms to pay above market clearing wages, i.e. efficiency wages to retain the talent pool and reduce the tendency toward labor shirking. New Keynesian and other economists have also focused on industrial organization and bring labor unions into the models to explain how insider–outsider relationships also result in wage rigidity.

Yet another stream of literature has focused on explaining the micro foundations of labor supply and labor demand. To explain labor supply decisions at the micro level, mainstream microeconomic theory uses the consumption/leisure framework to explain the allocation of time between leisure and working. Using this framework as a foundation, later studies have tried to explain the labor supply dynamics of, for example, immigrants, women, and minorities.

While the provision of property rights and self-centric choices is a better alternative to over- come coordination and incentive problems in the Marxian framework, the capitalistic economy has been unable to check extractive institutions which create systemic inequalities between capitalists and labor in income distribution.

There are two reasons why wealth inequality may still persist in a capitalist society: (i) interest-bearing capital accumulation and (ii) incapacitated wealth redistribution mechanisms. Both the absence of broad-based wealth taxes and the legal decree of allowing compound interest on money capital are the prime sources of wealth concentration in a market economy. Das Capital, Volume III, Chapter 24 starts with this statement: “The relations of capital assume their most externalized and most fetish-like form in interest-bearing capital.”

The disincentive to enter into entrepreneurial pursuits because of a lack of willingness on the part of capitalists to put capital at risk while having the opportunity to earn fixed interest income reduces investment in the economy. A decline in the potential investment in productive pursuits reduces real sector economic growth, raises unemployment, and adds burden on governments’ fiscal positions to expend on transfer payments. Then, if more money is printed, it increases national debt, which can eventually result in a country paying a major portion of its gross national income every year in the form of interest.

In an Islamic economy, the principle of making without leaving the long-term planner in the private sector to worry about fiscal policy reversals.

Labor from an Islamic perspective

The key difference in an Islamic framework comes in regards to moral injunctions such as filter and ethical checks on defining various legal and moral imperatives on the economic behavior of both capitalists and labor.

Islam removes the extractive institutions that perpetuate income and wealth inequality in an economy, especially the institution of interest and the freedom to devise tax policy for elite interest groups in capitalist democracies that put the welfare of future generations in jeopardy by excessive deficit financing and inflation tax.

In an Islamic economy, the principle of “risk-based productive enterprise” and “interest- free financial intermediation” can result in growth that is inclusive and not hierarchical in its distributional effects.

The principle of risk-based productive enterprise can foster capital formation and entrepreneurship in an Islamic economy, disallowing fixed returns on money capital in the form of interest. Increases in investment through entrepreneurial activities will increase labor demand and wages. Increases in wages will improve the standards of living of the poor working class and enable them to improve their productivity further. Productivity may also rise with the increase in capital per worker.

About the Author:

Salman Ahmed Shaikh hold Ph.D in Economics from the National University of Malaysia. He is also an Editorial Advisory Board Member of Emerald International Journal of Islamic and Middle Eastern Finance and Management and Field Editor of Turkish Journal of Islamic Economics, while also serving as Associate Editor of ISRA International of Islamic Finance.

This article was originally published on the Islamic Economics Project and has been reposted with permission. Link to the original article is here.

Few countries show the tension between religion, state power, and liberty as clearly as Turkey. For much of the twentieth century, it was held up as a model of strict secularism in the Muslim world. More recently, it’s often described as moving in the opposite direction. But framing it as a simple shift from “secular” to “religious” doesn’t really capture what’s going on.

The more interesting question is about power; who holds it, how it’s justified, and how far it can go.

A Secularism Imposed From Above

Modern Turkey was shaped by Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, and his version of secularism was not something that developed slowly over time. It was imposed, quite firmly, through state institutions, reflecting the tension between law and individual rights. Religion didn’t disappear, but it was pushed into controlled spaces. Public expressions of Islam were limited, especially in political life.

That approach did create stability of a kind. It aligned Turkey more closely with European political norms and reduced the direct influence of religious authority. But it also left a mark. For many people, secularism didn’t feel neutral—it felt restrictive.

That tension didn’t vanish. It just stayed beneath the surface.

The Shift Under Erdoğan

The rise of Recep Tayyip Erdoğan changed that balance. In its early phase, his government presented itself as opening things up rather than overturning the system. Economic growth, electoral legitimacy, and a more visible role for religion all became part of the picture.

Restrictions on religious expression eased, allowing for a more open public discourse on Islamic values. Headscarf bans were lifted. For many, that felt like a genuine expansion of personal freedom.

But over time, something else became more noticeable. Political power began to concentrate. Media space narrowed, limiting the development of a vibrant civil society. Criticism carried more risk than it used to. The system didn’t just become more religious—it became more controlled.

That’s what makes Turkey hard to read. Gains in one area were matched by losses in another.

Liberty Caught Between Two Models

It’s tempting to frame Turkey as a clash between Islam and secularism, but that’s a bit too neat. The deeper issue is how authority is organized.

On one side, you have a rigid secular model that limits religion in the name of modernization. On the other, a system that gives religion more public space but also centralizes power.

Neither one, on its own, guarantees liberty.

That’s something Mustafa Akyol has pointed out in his work. As he writes:

“The real issue is not Islam versus the West, but freedom versus authoritarianism.”
(Mustafa Akyol, Islam Without Extremes, 2011)

It’s a simple line, but it shifts the focus in a useful way. The problem isn’t identity by itself. It’s what happens when power isn’t limited.

Public Religion, Private Limits

In today’s Turkey, religion is more visible than it used to be. You see it in public life, in political language, even in how identity is expressed. But that visibility doesn’t automatically translate into broader freedom.

Journalists face pressure. Opposition voices don’t always have equal space. Institutions that once acted as checks on democracy have weakened significantly.

So you end up with a strange mix. Religion is less restricted, but liberty, in a wider sense, isn’t clearly expanding.

Beyond the Binary

Turkey tends to get pulled into simple arguments, either as proof that secularism is necessary for freedom, or as an example of why religion should have a larger role in public life.

In reality, it doesn’t fully support either claim.

What it shows is something more basic: liberty depends less on whether a system is secular or religious, and more on whether power is limited and accountable.

A secular system can become restrictive. A religiously influenced one can do the same. The label matters less than how authority is actually used.

An Ongoing Question

Turkey isn’t a finished story. Things are still shifting, and that’s part of why it’s worth paying attention to.

It raises a harder question than the usual debates: not whether Islam and secularism can coexist, but whether either can support liberty without real limits on power.

For the wider Muslim world, that question isn’t abstract. It’s practical.

And if Turkey shows anything, it’s that identity alone doesn’t decide the outcome. Structure does.