Western scholars have tried, since the 18th century, to explain the differences between Sunni and Shia traditions of Islam; Muslim scholars have tried since the death of the Prophet Muhammad. Epistemological problems beset these efforts. How to describe beliefs, held by individuals across 5,000 miles and 1,400 years?
Toby Matthiesen tackles this problem head-on by taking a very long view and exploring an exhaustive list of Sunni and Shia thinkers. The result is a convincing argument for accepting ambiguity. The distinction between Sunnism and Shiism is much less clear cut than many writers, both Muslim and non-Muslims assert. Over long periods of time the sharpness of that distinction often has more to do with politics than theology. For most of their common history, Sunnis and Shia have shared a common destiny, living side by side. Current extreme positions, like that of ISIS or the Taliban, are the historical exception—we hope of short duration.
Matthiessen repeatedly emphasizes that toleration was at least as common as conflict across these 1,400 years.
At the death of Muhammad in 631 CE, a dispute arose whether his successor, or caliph, should be an early supporter, Abu Bakr, or the Prophet’s son-in-law and nephew Ali. Though Ali eventually was elected as the fourth caliph, his partisans, Shi’a in Arabic, claimed primacy for Ali and later his descendants, the Alids, calling them the leaders, or imams. Others followed the tradition, Sunna, of the elected caliphs; these were the Sunnis. This dispute about authority gave rise to different interpretations of the Quran, and different ways of performing religious duties. As time passed these different practices became codified into incompatible laws, in areas like marriage, inheritance and legal procedure.
This was probably inevitable in an era before mass media. People followed their local leaders, who transmitted oral traditions from their masters. In the first century of Islam, a wide variety of teachings prevailed. The caliphs of Damascus and then of Baghdad made great efforts to systematize Islamic laws, eventually imposing a choice of four recognized schools, each with its own jurisprudence. One of these schools, the Shafii, showed a great deal of sympathy for the Alids and respected some Shia practices. The Shia, in turn, when they did not openly revolt against the caliphs, rejected the authority of the four schools, and developed several of their own. The least extreme Shia emphasized respect for the Alids, while tolerating the de facto political supremacy of the caliphs. The most extreme Shia publicly cursed the caliphs, and added Ali’s name to the profession of faith. This often resulted in deadly conflict between the two traditions. Some scholars and statesmen on both sides strived for peaceful coexistence; others stoked the fires of sectarianism.
The mid-18th century eruption of the Sunni Wahhabis into the narrative is as epochal of that of the Shia Safavids.
Matthiessen repeatedly emphasizes that toleration was at least as common as conflict across these 1,400 years. The fact that there are sizable Shia minorities in many otherwise Sunni-dominant states, speaks for an attitude of live-and-let live. A major exception is the 16th century Safavid revolution in Iran, when a millenarian, militant sect conquered the country and forced most of the population to convert to Shiism. But even under the Safavids, many rural populations remained Sunni. In 18th and 19th century Iraq, the Sunni Ottoman government protected and patronized the large Shia community, partly to ensure their loyalty in any conflict with Shia Iran, and partly to enlist their support against the rising threat of the Wahhabis of Arabia.
The mid-18th century eruption of the Sunni Wahhabis into the narrative is as epochal of that of the Shia Safavids. At the dawn of the modern age, they defined a new extremist position, which, thanks to improved transportation and emerging mass media, spread quickly from Arabia to Calcutta. At the same time, the modern state increasingly interfered and organized private lives; people had their identities thrust on them by census takers, judges or border surveyors. This dynamic prevailed both in British India and in the Ottoman empire. The tolerance of the old “don’t ask, don’t tell” ethos was lost, and communal conflicts began to spiral out of control.
Matthiessen’s interweaving of the Indian subcontinent’s narratives with those of Egypt, Iran and Syria, adds much depth. He untangles the complex history of Sunni/Shia relationships in such problematic situations such as Yemen and Oman, forcing the reader to reimagine Islam’s history at a much more granular level, much closer to the lived experience of people than the grand, simplifying narratives of previous histories.
The closer he gets to contemporary events the denser and more twisted the narrative thread becomes. Occasionally the reader feels ambushed by sentences that make no sense until the reader supplies the missing word or replaces the wrong word (eg, “he commanded the Qajar governor for limiting festivities in the city”; “commended” is obviously intended) but persistent readers will be rewarded with many insights into current events, like the rise of militant Shiism in Lebanon, or the politics of the Assad family in Syria.
Covering 1,400 years of history however does make it hard to get the flavor of each era correct. Oddly, Sultan Mahmud of Ghazna is called Ibn Sebuktagin. The author refers to Afghan emir Abdulrahman Khan as “Khan” and occasionally confuses Pashtuns (a people) and Pashtu (their language). In a book of this length, it is hard to get all the details right. Muhammad Shah was not the last Mughal emperor, but rather the last effective one. Shah Abbas did not found Isfahan, but he rebuilt it. These are minor quibbles in a 800 page book, including 400 pages of footnotes, but speaks to a need for better copy editing.
Surprisingly, for such a detailed survey, there is a lack of vivid anecdotes about the disputed doctrines themselves, but Matthiessen does offer one pertinent example. Pakistan’s founder Muhammad Ali Jinnah is said to have originally been an Ismaili, and later converted to Twelver Shiism. Following his death, the execution of his estate turned into a legal imbroglio. Jinnah, embracing the pan-Islamic ethos of early Pakistan, had refused to acknowledge allegiance to either school. Ismailis and Twelvers, though both Shia, differ in the treatment of men versus women in inheritance. So, his survivors battled away for years to establish Jinnah’s religious preferences in order to score the biggest share of his estate.
Different rules about inheritance reflect, ultimately, disagreement as to who provides a more authentic transmission of the Prophet’s teaching, Ali and his descendants, or the caliphs and their scholars? One can ask the same question about Matthiessen’s book. With over 400 pages of footnotes, we are left wondering whether his sources are accurate or not. Certainly, for some controversial figures, like Iran’s Nader Shah who tried to reconcile Shiism and Sunnism, we may never get to the truth of his original intent. It is fitting that The Caliph and the Imam itself be subject to epistemological uncertainty. The luxury of certainty is only enjoyed by the fanatics of ISIS and the Taliban.