During the height of the Iran-Iraq war, which the Islamic Republic used as an opportunity to solidify its ideology, a slogan related to the veil was frequently heard: “My sister, your hijab is your fortress.” However, over time it became clear that the veil was not a fortress for women, but for the Islamic Republic itself. Now, there is no doubt that if the Islamic Republic openly declares a retreat from this position, it will not only undergo a transformation but also face the possibility of its downfall.
Now the question arises: How does a specific policy regarding women’s dress become vital for a political system? This is a question we ask ourselves every time we see the massive budgets allocated to various governmental bodies to forcibly cover women, even amid rampant inflation and absolute poverty. We also ask this when we witness the heartbreaking images of women being suppressed for choosing their own attire and the Islamic Republic’s persistent efforts to crack down on them. Despite the Jin, Jiyan, Azadi movement, clear and precise answers are still lacking.
Our perception of the Hijab as a religious matter and the Islamic Republic as the enforcer of Islamic law makes us view such regulations as natural. This perspective prevents us from exploring the deeper causes behind the issue of the Hijab. We overlook the fact that religious law and everything related to religion are intertwined with the political, economic, and social relations within society and influenced by them. Nothing exists beyond history.
Throughout history, we have encountered various forms of the Hijab in the cultures of different Islamic societies. In these societies, the definition of Islamic dress has never been as uniform and extreme as it is today (covering the entire body of a woman except for the hands and face, and ideally, covering everything except the eyes).
The current form of the Hijab is entirely historical and specific to the present era. In recent decades, we have seen a wave of forced veiling of women in countries with Islamic governments, as well as an increase in veiling among Muslim women in Western countries, often enforced or used politically.
Therefore, the Hijab is not only a historical phenomenon subject to change but also not exclusive to the Islamic Republic. The Islamic Republic is not an isolated island that we can understand merely by examining its past and the history of Islamic dress in this country. While such studies help us understand the unique historical aspects of this issue in Iran, they cannot provide a complete explanation.
The discourse of the Islamic Republic is one of the discourses of political Islam that has dominated through state power. Thus, we consider Islam not as an unchangeable essence but as a collection of discourses that have experienced various transformations throughout history.
If we can accept with condescension the Islamic Republic’s position in a “keep alive/let die” state, many supervisory and disciplinary policies related to the bio-power of such a government, especially concerning women, can be cited. The Hijab is a manifestation of disciplinary power, a tool for disciplining and subjugating individual women to ensure their participation in social reproduction. Policies aimed at maintaining the foundation of the family for childbirth have led to the enactment of stringent laws related to banning elective abortion, restricting women’s access to contraception, and discriminatory policies against single women who do not marry. All of these are conservative and repressive policies of the Islamic Republic aimed at exercising control over women’s bodies.
Political Islam
To answer the main question of how the Hijab became a symbol of the discourse of political Islam, we must consider the meaning of political Islam itself. In most texts, when they refer to political Islam, they mean Islamic movements influenced by the Muslim Brotherhood of Egypt throughout the Islamic world, which in most countries operate as illegal or semi-legal parties aiming to gain power through participation in parliament. These texts also mention another category of Islamic movements called Salafis or Jihadists, which are radical movements that reject gaining power through parliamentary participation and believe in overthrowing governments and establishing an Islamic state through jihad.
The problem with this categorization is that Islamic movements like Salafis and Jihadists, despite engaging in politics and even seeking to establish Islamic governments by overthrowing existing ones, are not considered part of political Islam. The question then arises: why are these groups excluded from political Islam?
It is clear that the Islamic movements that prevailed after the fall of the Ottoman Caliphate (3 March 1924) have all been striving for political power and the fusion of religion and politics. In this sense, they can all be considered part of the political Islam movement without ignoring the significant differences between these groups, especially regarding the methods of gaining power. However, for providing a clear definition of this movement, such a characteristic is not sufficient. These movements have more fundamental similarities and go beyond the political sphere.
They have created a rupture with the past of the Islamic world with shared propositions, distinctly different from earlier times, and have changed all our perceptions of Islam and its concepts. They have become the dominant religious discourse in the Islamic world.
What does it mean to break away from the world before them? Was Islam before the great fall (the fall of the Ottomans) not political? The movements of political Islam themselves strongly oppose the concept of political Islam because they often believe that “true Islam” has always been political. They also believe that only during the period of the Prophet Muhammad and the first four caliphs (or in the case of Shia, only during the period of the first two Imams) was an Islamic government established, and thereafter the Umayyad, Abbasid, and Ottoman caliphs could not be worthy successors and were incapable of enforcing Islamic laws. In other words, in the 1400-year history of Islam, less than 50 years saw the implementation of true Islam, and everything after that led to deviation and corruption.
However, even for the claim of the existence of an Islamic government in the early decades of Islam, they lack specific historical facts. What has been obtained from the letters and writings of the Umayyad period shows that, in the eyes of the rulers of that time, Muhammad was a messenger to convey God’s message to the people, and it is his successors who implement his message by seizing political power. Therefore, even figures like Al-Walid II in his will to his successor and Al-Hajjaj emphasize that the caliphs (all rulers after the death of the Prophet) hold a rank higher than the Prophet because they are the executors of God’s commands and God’s representatives on earth (God’s Caliph: religious authority in the first centuries of Islam: 26-30).
The notion that the caliph and the Prophet held separate roles existed from the early years after the Prophet’s death. It was believed that the Prophet was a messenger, while the caliphs were political rulers who were not successors to the Prophet but successors to God. This perception that Muhammad was not a political ruler who established a religious-political system was initially prevalent and, in many cases, dominant. Essentially, historical texts do not report any indication of Muhammad’s political power in the sense that he had specific political laws and a defined form of governance over his subjects.
Even if we consider the occurrence of wars and the subsequent distribution of spoils by Muhammad as evidence of his political role, these facts are not sufficient to define a new Islamic political government. In other words, it is possible to acknowledge that the Prophet may have considered himself a political ruler, but his method of governance was not derived from his religious teachings. Instead, it was based on the political experiences of the people of his time, and he was not a messenger of a new political system but a messenger of new religious beliefs.
Patricia Crone and Martin Hinds, in their book “God’s Caliph,” argue that based on historical evidence, during the period of the first and second caliphs, the caliphate was a purely political position (and not religious), and disobedience to their orders did not mean leaving Islam. Many Muslims did not accept the caliphate of Abu Bakr or Umar and did not pledge allegiance to them, yet they remained within the fold of Islam, as these were separate domains. In other words, the first two caliphs, although true believers, did not claim to be implementing a new Islamic political system; they were simply just politicians.
It was from the period of the Umayyad caliphs, starting with the Marwanids and the third caliph, Uthman, that the caliphate took on a religious role (historically, the caliph after Uthman is considered Muawiyah rather than Ali, as Muawiyah governed a broader territory). As a result, disobedience to the caliph was seen as disobedience to God’s command and an exit from the faith. From this period onward, the relationship between religion and politics became a complex issue, and rulers constantly tried to unify them.
The concept of the caliphate is key to understanding the relationship between religion and politics during the Islamic caliphates. The caliphs considered themselves the guardians and enforcers of God’s tradition, decrees, limits, and rights. In other words, they saw the caliphate as a political-religious position. But how did a caliph, whose power was hereditary and no different from a king in a monarchy, justify such a status?
During this period in Islamic history, power was not seen as having a religious origin. Makram Abbes, in his book “Islam and Politics in the Classical Period,” compares the views of Al-Jahiz, the undisputed intellectual source of the Abbasids in the eighth and ninth centuries, with those of Augustine, the medieval Christian intellectual source, regarding the origin of authority. He writes that Al-Jahiz believed the will to power has an intrinsic rather than a religious origin; God created human nature to have a desire for dominion. In contrast, Augustine believed that the origin of authority is religious and that humans, due to original sin, are condemned to be under someone’s rule (Abbès, 2009: 40-48).
Therefore, it can be concluded that in the Islamic tradition, anyone could become a caliph. The caliph, with their religious upbringing, undertakes the establishment of justice. Justice was a sign of enforcing God’s decrees, limits, and rights. The concept of justice as the main foundation of religion in politics is the same concept that some post-Islamists are now seeking to return to.
Therefore, unlike Christianity, where a specific religious foundation called the Church defined the religious boundaries and laws that kings were often obliged to enforce (especially until the Renaissance, for example in France until the time of Francis I and before the signing of the Concordat of Bologna between the king and the pope), such a foundation does not exist in Islam. In Islam, neither the mosque nor even the tekke and khanqah (Sufi lodges) ever became foundations for governance. Instead, the caliph himself determined what God’s decrees and laws were, and if he was just and faithful, he was considered the rightful successor to God, and the people were obliged to obey him. In other words, the caliph did not need cognitive support from a religious foundation in matters of politics; essentially, his power did not have a religious origin.
The main sources of policy during the Abbasid period were pre-Islamic writings such as the Testament of Ardashir, Kalila wa Dimna, and Ibn al-Muqaffa’s Al-Adab al-Kabir. They did not hesitate to use non-Islamic sources for governing the state and were not accused of deviating from the faith, because they themselves (and not a religious foundation outside their power structure) were the criterion for their legitimacy and righteousness. However, this did not mean that they considered themselves independent of the legitimacy conferred by jurists and religious scholars.
Jurists and religious scholars, especially during the Abbasid period, enjoyed a certain degree of intellectual freedom and operated independently of the political institution. However, the Ottoman caliphs tried to systematize and institutionalize their relationship with scholars and jurists. They established a hierarchy for the scholars and jurists of religion, founding the position of Sheikh al-Islam at the top, followed by positions such as Qadi, Asker, and Mufti.
Holders of these positions were salaried employees of the Bab al-Khalifa (the administrative) and were particularly sought after when there was a need to legitimize political actions (this does not mean that religion was merely a tool for legitimizing politics; rather, the relationship between the two was much more complex). The Sheikh al-Islam would issue fatwas for jihad during wars with infidels and supervise the signing of treaties with non-Islamic countries to ensure that no un-Islamic actions were taken. However, in the end, it was the caliph who made the final decision and did not necessarily feel bound by the recommendations of the Sheikh al-Islam.
For example, in the early 17th century, the Ottoman Sultan favored England over France in a conflict over part of what is now the Netherlands, despite having previously allied with France. Sheikh al-Islam Muhammad Efendi had advised him to honor his pact with France, but the Sultan acted against the Sheikh al-Islam’s recommendation.
With the onset of colonial policies by Western countries in the 19th century in territories governed by Muslim rulers, and the successive defeats of Islamic powers against the West, Muslims began to feel the impact of these defeats and global inequalities in their daily lives. As a result, the Ottoman and Qajar ruling apparatuses in Iran were compelled to implement widespread changes and reforms. The relationship between religion and power was also affected by these changes in the long 19th century.
Figures like Jamal al-Din al-Afghani (1839-1897) and Muhammad Abduh (1849-1905) recognized the necessity of reconstructing Islam and published their first magazine, “Al-Urwah al-Wuthqa,” in Paris in March 1884. Their primary concern was to create Islamic unity against Western power and advance the Islamic lands.
With the fall of the Ottoman Empire, the Islamic world found itself facing rapid changes, and religious leaders confronted the question of whether the caliphate was a religious principle that Muslims were obligated to establish again or if they could have other forms of governance without departing from Islam, implying that the caliphate was not essential to the principles of the faith. All Islamic movements of the 20th and 21st centuries sought to answer this question and were shaped by their responses. Thus, Islam directly engaged with one of the fundamental concepts in political science, which is the issue of sovereignty. This issue, which had previously remained somewhat within the realm of politics, marked the beginning of a significant rupture within Islam.
Ali Abdel Raziq (1888-1966) is the most famous thinker whose views on this question went against the mainstream and, ultimately, could not represent the dominant religious discourse of the present century. Largely influenced by Muhammad Abduh, he emphasized the freedom of people to determine their form of governance and believed that the caliphate was not a religious matter, and the Prophet himself did not see himself as a political ruler (Abdel Raziq, 2012). However, those whose ideas most represent the dominant discourse in contemporary Islam, such as Rashid Rida (1865-1935) and Hassan al-Banna (1906-1949) in Egypt, Abul A’la Maududi (1903-1979) in Pakistan, and Ruhollah Khomeini (1902-1989) in Iran, held views that were diametrically opposed to Abdel Raziq.
Below, we will briefly discuss the commonalities between the views of these individuals to identify the propositions that define the contemporary Islamic discourse, which has become known as political Islam.
With the rise of nationalist tendencies among the territories that were previously under Ottoman rule, and the presence of British and French colonial powers in the region, the emergence of another caliphate became practically impossible. Each part of the region, through border demarcations by France and England, sought to form its own nation-state. Entering a new era of governance in the Islamic world, religious thinkers were also compelled to abandon the idea of the caliphate and once again redefine Islamic discourse and the relationship between religion and power based on the new form of governance.
With the rise of nationalist tendencies among the territories that were previously under the Ottoman Empire’s rule, and the presence of colonial powers such as Britain and France in the region, the emergence of another caliphate became practically impossible. Each part of this region, with borders drawn by France and Britain, sought to establish its own nation-state. Entering a new era of governance in the Islamic world, religious thinkers were also compelled to abandon the idea of the caliphate and once again redefine the Islamic discourse and the relationship between religion and power based on the new form of governance.
This reconstruction was not a conscious and planned effort but rather a set of concerns and responses in the post-Ottoman world, resulting from the political and economic conditions of their time, which gradually constructed the propositions of this discourse. The leaders of political Islam mentioned before emphasized the existence of an Islamic government led by religious leaders, seeing it as a successor to the caliphate.
Khomeini says in his book “The Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist” (Velayat-e Faqih):
“The tradition and practice of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) provide evidence for the necessity of establishing a government. Firstly, he himself established a government. History testifies that he formed a government, implemented laws, established Islamic regulations, and managed society. He sent governors to different regions; he judged disputes and appointed judges; he sent ambassadors to foreign lands and to tribal chiefs and kings; he entered into treaties and pacts; he commanded wars. In summary, he enforced governmental decrees. Secondly, by God’s command, he appointed a ‘ruler’ for after himself. When Almighty God appoints a ruler for the society after the Holy Prophet (PBUH), it means that government is necessary even after the Prophet’s demise. Since the Holy Prophet (PBUH) conveyed God’s command through his will, it signifies the necessity of forming a government”.
The religious model for these rulers is not the corrupt caliphs of the Umayyad, Abbasid, and Ottoman dynasties but rather the Prophet and the four caliphs who followed him (and in the Shiite view, the fourth caliph and his sons). This was an era in which faithful rulers established justice and marked a period of flourishing and prosperity in the Islamic world. Therefore, the first step involves constructing an image of an idealized society from the past, an Islamic golden age that is worlds apart from the contemporary state of Muslims under Western Christian dominance.
The idea of the Islamic golden age and the emphasis on the political leadership of the Prophet and his successors (contrary to the views of figures like Abdel Raziq) make the role of contemporary religious leaders in politics and entrusting them with affairs to return to this golden age more convincing. Essentially, Salafism means this very idea: a return to the past, a past in which affairs were in the hands of religious leaders, and Muslims were the masters of the world.
This does not mean that Salafism is an idea for preserving the past or looking backward. They reject the entire 1400-year history of Islam after the era of Muhammad and the caliphs, and their conception of those few decades is based on their current ideas since there is a severely distorted and limited historical archive of that era. They have constructed a past for the future, so Salafism is actually a profoundly forward-looking idea. In this sense, Salafism is the first common point among all Islamist movements of the 20th century. It is no coincidence that Rashid Rida emphasizes Salafism (Al-Qahtani, 2018) and that Hassan al-Banna, the intellectual leader of all Brotherhood movements, considers his movement to be a Salafi movement (Al-Banna, 1400).
The Identification of Religion and State, God and Ruler
The question arises: What type of Islamic government did these movements have in mind? In other words, which political form is most identifiable in their discourse? Given that Islamists view governance as the rightful domain of Islamic rulers, considering them representatives of God on earth, in their intellectual framework, the concepts of “religion” and “state” on one hand, and “God” and “ruler” on the other, are often redefined using common terms, to the extent that they sometimes become interchangeable.
Abul A’la Maududi, in his book “Four Basic Quranic Terms,” which is one of the main references for Islamic movements, attempts to redefine the concepts of divinity and lordship, religion, God, and believer within the Islamic intellectual framework, and to combat the “ignorance of the age.” He vehemently opposes anything that stands as an intermediary between God and the servant, arguing that God’s power is indivisible; the servant is directly connected to God, obedient and submissive, and God is omnipresent and aware of the believer’s life. According to him, believing in any intermediary constitutes polytheism (shirk). Rashid Rida, in his magazine Al-Manar, combats the concept of “tawassul” (seeking intercession) and considers belief in any intermediary between God and the believer as a sign of deviation from Islam (Al-Qahtani, 2018).
Thus, the concept of tawhid, the oneness of God, becomes the central signifier of the political Islam discourse. This not only involves the theological unification of political sovereignty but also extends to issues such as healing the sick and protecting believers from evil. Any form of intercession or intermediary between humans and God is considered polytheism, which is regarded as the gravest sin (although this second characteristic of political Islam’s discourse took much longer to take root among Shiites).
The question is, where does this emphasis on the indivisibility of God’s duties and the absence of any partner originate?
The insistence on the singularity of God’s power and the direct relationship between God and believers is rooted in the early Islamic principle of tawhid, which emphasizes the absolute monotheism and unity of God. This principle was foundational in distinguishing Islam from pre-Islamic polytheistic practices and ensuring that the relationship between God and the individual remained unmediated by clergy or other figures. This emphasis re-emerges in political Islam as a reaction against perceived corruptions and divisions within the Muslim world, aiming to restore a purer form of governance and social organization that reflects this theological purity.
The rise of colonialism and the subsequent fragmentation of the Muslim world into nation-states created a crisis of authority and legitimacy. Islamic thinkers like Maududi and Rida sought to address this crisis by advocating for a return to the fundamental principle of tawhid, which they saw as inherently opposed to both the colonial order and the traditional monarchies and religious institutions that had accommodated it. By emphasizing God’s absolute sovereignty and the direct relationship between God and the believer, they aimed to undermine both the colonial powers and the local rulers who collaborated with them, proposing instead a unified Islamic governance model based directly on divine authority.
Before the spread of the discourse of political Islam and under the influence of Sufi traditions, people viewed sheikhs as closer to God and as intermediaries between themselves and God. People did not conceive of God as directly overseeing His servants and responding to their daily needs but believed that God required representatives on earth. Sheikhs, Imams, and the graves of the Prophet and other religious figures played such roles for Muslims, much like the emirs appointed by the Ottoman caliphs in distant major cities, who sometimes had to enter into agreements to act as intermediaries between the caliphs and the people, exercising autonomy in determining laws and methods of governance. Consequently, people could not envision a caliph who would handle all matters directly.
However, with the collapse of the Ottoman Empire and the formation of states that gradually managed to directly control all regions through military development, the idea of a ruler who could directly interact with the people and oversee their daily affairs became conceivable. These changes manifested in each region through simple questions among the people, sometimes leading to verbal disputes between parties, such as: Can the Prophet and his companions intercede for us on the Day of Judgment? Does the Fatiha we recite reach the deceased? Is visiting graves permissible? Can we seek intercession from the Prophet? The answers from the new generation of believers consistently affirmed the absolute power of a God who never shares His power with anyone.
In fact, what religious leaders wanted was to modernize Islam, supported by the process of forming a modern state. Maududi himself acknowledges this in his book, stating that the closest thing to what he calls religion is the state in English (Maududi, 1389: 157).
If Carl Schmitt believed that the state in the West engaged in institution-building by following the Catholic Church and borrowed its form from religion, it can be argued that in the twentieth century and in the Islamic world, it is religion that reconstructs itself in accordance with the process of state-building. In other words, if in Europe, absolute monarchy emerged in imitation of a powerful God, in the contemporary Islamic world, a powerful God takes shape in imitation of a centralized state—a state with a strong desire to control and impose disciplinary power over bodies.
Religion endorses and mimics this desire for control and discipline over bodies by the state. In a religion-state model, such as the practical example of the Islamic Republic, elective abortion is considered equivalent to murder, and childbearing and maintaining the family foundation are strongly encouraged. Given the lack of sufficient means for childcare in the absence of mothers and the insufficient industrial development that would create a vast need for cheap female labor, women’s presence in public spaces is discouraged, and the complete covering of women’s bodies is deemed necessary. This ensures women’s presence in the home and their loyalty to the family.
Therefore, the Hijab, as a symbol of submission and obedience to this order, more evident than any other repressive policy, becomes a symbol of the religion-state’s sovereignty within the Islamic discourse, including that of the Islamic Republic.
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