The term “secularization” is used to qualify that manner of change which occurred in the Islamic system of civil law from 1451 to 1926. It refers to the processes that caused gradual revision and/or change in Islamic Ottoman and Turkish civil law and connotes a departure from the orthodox tenets prescribed by Islamic law. This departure is a process that may create gradual or abrupt change. Also that which in retrospect is classified as a change may not at the outset be classified as such. Specifically, this change may begin in the form of supplementation and continue in this manner without the process taking the form of major change. On the other hand there may be total change within the structure undergoing these experiences. This structure, which is the subject of discussion, is the Islamic Ottoman and Turkish civil law. The secularization process in this case represents: (1) supplementation, (2) reform (Tanzimat and the Mecelle), (3) change (abrogation of the capitulatory system), (4) complete secular change in civil law (adoption of the Swiss Civil Code).

According to its constitution and the ideology of the ruling Ba?th party, Syria is a socialist people's republic with a planned socialist economy. This does not mean, however, that there is no place for a private economic sector: agriculture is almost entirely private,1 as is small-scale industry, almost 90 percent of internal trade, most road transport, tourism, construction, and up to one-third of Syria's foreign trade. There is also a Syrian bourgeoisie apparently flourishing under the auspices of Syrian socialism. Since independence, however, the specific development of Syria's private sector has to a large extent been determined by political decisions, i.e., by decisions of those running state affairs.

The Ottomans, after a long period of peace that began in 1740, declared war on Russia in 1768, disputing territory essential to the continued existence of the empire: Moldavia, Wallachia, the Crimea, and Georgia. The war lasted until 1774, during which time the Ottomans proved that they no longer posed a military threat to Europe. The signing of the Küçük Kaynarca treaty of 1774, which granted Tatar independence in the Crimea, was the first instance of an Ottoman cession of a predominantly Muslim territory to a European power, and it provoked an internal crisis and long debate over the future of the empire. The Ottoman administration, especially the scribal bureaucracy, contributed a number of political advice manuals to the debate, which form the core of the following discussion. Four examples have been selected with the purpose of extending the analysis of Ottoman advice literature into the 18th century and testing the assumption of Ottoman inability to accommodate changing political realities.

The Greco-Turkish War was one of the major aftershocks in the wake of World War I. In attacking war-ravaged Turkey, Greece sought to realize her goal of a new Hellenic presence in Asia Minor. This action, together with British, French, and Italian designs upon Anatolian territory, threatened Turkey's existence as a nation.

The Palestine Group was a loosely connected collection of young anti-Shah activists some of whom were arrested and tried publically in 1970 for the crime of acting against the Pahlavi monarchy and Iran's national security. Their plight became global, receiving support from anticolonial figures such as Jean-Paul Sartre. But while they played an important role in inspiring the revolutionary generation, in the historiography of the 1979 revolution and that of the global south, their story has been mostly forgotten. This article argues for remembering the Palestine Group by focusing on two facets of their prerevolutionary activism: the importance of a connection to the anti-imperial/colonial struggles that spread from “Asia to Africa”; and the centrality of maḥfilī politics (friendship circles) in addition to tashkīlātī (organizational) politics, which the historiography has traditionally emphasized. It demonstrates that as resistance shifted from maḥfil to tashkīlāt, it also shifted from a global struggle where Iran was one node out of many, to a nationalized struggle.

Like many other parts of the world, in the last two hundred years or so the Middle East has gone through a process of de-industrialization followed by reindustrialization.* The decline in handicrafts continued until well after the First World War. But by then another development was under way: the growth of a modern factory industry that started around the 1890s, gathered increasing momentum in the 1920s and 1930s, and since the Second World War has proceeded at a very rapid pace.

Exploring generational changes and continuities among Palestinian families in Denmark, this article investigates why the children of the fidāᵓīn (fighters) and many of the fidāᵓīn themselves have turned their backs on secular politics and embraced Islam. The Palestinians who arrived in Denmark from Lebanon in the wake of the Lebanese Civil War were members of the Palestinian Liberation Organization and were known as the generation of the revolution (jīl al-thawra). Extending Karl Mannheim's approach to generations, I argue that in order to explain the transition among Palestinians in Denmark from revolutionaries to Muslims we can rely on neither genealogy nor historical context alone, but need to pay equal attention to the structural continuities that crosscut generations. I suggest that rather than conceive of revolutionaries and Muslims as oppositions, we should think of them as substitutions, as liminal becomings that are actualized across historical generations.

This article examines the impact of the Ottoman Empire's battle against legal imperialism on the status of Central Asians in its domains, specifically after the promulgation of a nationality law in 1869 that classified them as foreigners. It traces how the threat of Muslim colonial subjects attaining European consular protections led to the emergence of a “Central Asian protection question”: whether Afghans, Bukharans, and Chinese Muslims had legitimate claims to European legal nationality and, by extension, capitulatory privileges. Through a number of case studies, the article shows how the Ottoman Foreign Ministry fused international legal norms and pan-Islamic claims to arrive at the position that Central Asians from informally colonized lands were not “real” subjects of European empires, and that they were under the exclusive protection of the caliphate. This strategy, I argue, undermined the creation of an Ottoman citizenship boundary and opened up a complex field of inter- and intraimperial contestation about who was a foreigner. In contrast to positive associations with legal pluralism in this period, Central Asian migrants and pilgrims who were protected by the caliph but not recognized as Ottomans or European subjects found that they could not benefit from practices such as forum shopping and affiliation switching. And while the notion of foreignness remained subject to multiple and conflicting interpretations across the empire, I argue that nationality as a legal category was incontrovertibly becoming a defining feature of these foreign Muslims' rights and status in the sultan's domains.

A substantial number of social-psychological studies dealing with the Arab world purport to explain the ‘Arab basic personality’, or ‘the Arab mind’. The alleged purpose of these studies is to understand the ‘psychology of the Arabs’ the underlying motivations of their behavior, and the reasons for their underdevelopment. Most of these studies emphasize the use of projective analyses of the Arab personality on the basis of supposedly dominant childrearing practices. The personality pattern which emerges from this research includes characteristics such as free-floating hostility, rigidity, the lack of reality testing, and suspiciousness6 which are said to explain the nature of Arab political behavior.

Scholars have long noted that the Prophet Muhammad assumed increasing importance in Sufi thought and practice over the centuries. For Sufis, belief in Muhammad's perfection often went beyond the standard affirmation of his immunity from error, and sometimes went so far as the assertions of the Spanish Arab Qadi ʿIyad (d. 1149/50) that Muhammad had assumed all the qualities embodied in the Ninety-nine Beautiful Names of God. Belief in Muhammad as a primordial cosmic light of divine origin is documented as early as the 8th to 9th centuries, and reached its fullest exposition in the works of Ibn ʿArabi (1165-1240) and his successors. Popular devotion to the Prophet in the form of poetry in his honor and celebrations of his birthday is documented at least as early as the 13th century.

Until recently, the topic of charitable organizations seemed to have fallen in disgrace. Social scientists have given little attention to this sector of associational life. Instead, a great deal has been written on the issues of democratization through pressure groups or on the transformation of social movements into professional organizations while assessing the overall impact of development promoted by donors. Yet three signs point to the need for a better understanding of charitable organizations. First, new research studying Islamic activism through the lens of social-movement literature has offered innovative results. Second, studies on the impact of aid during the second intifada have revealed that charitable organizations as well as Islamic organizations offered a significant amount of emergency support, sometimes competing with professional nongovernmental organizations (NGOs). Finally, the fact that Hamas, also known for running a vast network of charitable organizations, achieved such a significant political success in the 2005 municipal and 2006 legislative elections should invite social scientists to consider whether and how political momentum can also be obtained through activism in the charitable sector.

In the historiography of Egypt it has long been accepted that private ownership of land was introduced in the nineteenth century. This development in statute law has often been linked analytically to a process of “modernization.” Modernization theory posits a fundamental dichotomy between two ideal-type societies, the traditional and modern, which implies an equally sharp discontinuity between historical eras: before and after the beginning of modernization. In this view, traditional societies lack the potential for generating significant social change from within. Change results rather from the expansion of communications and diversification of technology worldwide from modern Europe and North America. In the process of modernization, traditional norms and structures break down in the host societies, and new, rational values and institutions emerge in their place. The development of Egypt's new land regime is usually considered one such change.

This article concerns the dominant institution of religious authority within modern Usuli Twelver Shiʿi Islam: the marjaʿiyya. The most senior clerics serve as “sources of emulation” (marājiʿ al-taqlīd), informing the moral conduct of their lay “imitators” (muqallidūn). Despite the importance of this relationship, academic writing on what we call its “affective” qualities, especially from lay perspectives, is limited. We provide ethnographic data from anthropological research into Islamic medical ethics in Lebanon. Interviews in 2003 with infertile Shiʿi patients who were considering controversial assisted reproductive technologies revealed rare insights into which authorities they followed and in what numbers and how this relationship was experienced and drawn upon by those in need. We compare the very different relationships inspired by the two authorities most cited in our study: the late Beirut-based Ayatollah Fadlallah; and the Iranian Ayatollah Khaminaʾi, Hizbullah's patron. From his local base, Fadlallah offered a vivid and responsive persona of a qualitatively distinct type.

The Islamic fundamentalist doctrine on riba states that the rate of interest is zero, a doctrine based upon the Quranic injunctions against it. The word ‘riba’ means ‘increase’ as interpreted by Imam Razi, which corresponds to the word ‘interest’ as defined by Webster's New World Dictionary. In both cases the increase refers to the amount beyond what is owed. Thus, the strictest interpretation that can be given to the word riba is that it means interest—an amount, or rate, due above the principal of a loan. The word riba, however, is commonly translated as usury which is defined by Webster's Dictionary as “an excessive or unlawfully high rate or amount of interest.” Thus, the fundamental aspect of the controversy about the doctrine of interest in Islam is whether the rate of interest is zero, in which case riba is interpreted to mean interest per se, or whether a positive rate of interest is permissible, in which case nba is interpreted to mean usury.

Know from where you come and where you are going. (Akavya Ben-Mahalalel, Avot, 3)

It has been argued that the difference between liberal democracies and theocratic, communist, or fascist states is not that liberal states promote different ideals of the good, but that they promote none. Whereas illiberal states regard it as a primary function of the state to prescribe the moral character of society, liberal states shun such attempts and allow freedom to citizens to develop their own conceptions. Liberals hold that governments cannot use as their justification for any action the fact that one person's plan of life is more or less worthy than that of another. Since many people believe in more than one objective “correct” set of values, every person should enjoy the freedom to arrive at her own conception of the good. By “conception of the good” is meant a more or less determinate scheme of ends that the doer aspires to carry out for their own sake as well as of attachments to other individuals and loyalties to various groups and associations. It involves a mixture of moral, philosophical, ideological, and religious notions, together with personal values that contain some picture of a worthy life.

This article explores the “fundamentalist dilemma,” or how fundamentalist movements participate in secular political systems, especially when they gain prominent political positions that allow them to impose their extreme ideology on the entire society. After analyzing prevailing responses to this dilemma, ranging from political integration to aggressive takeover, the article turns to the case of Israeli Haredim. It explores three models of political integration through which Haredim have applied religious practices in the public sphere: protest, consolidation, and takeover. The study's main finding is that, opposite to a commonly accepted assumption that fundamentalists’ integration into secular politics causes them to moderate, the more political power that fundamentalists accrue the stronger is their tendency to promote their religious agenda. Yet the Israeli Haredi case also reveals the limitations of this tendency: fundamentalists often restrain their expansionist instinct when having to take nonfundamentalist reactions into consideration.

The Book of Dede Korkut is an early record of oral Turkic folktales in Anatolia, and as such, one of the mythic charters of Turkish nationalist ideology. The oldest versions of the Book of Dede Korkut consist of two manuscripts copied sometime during the 16th century. The twelve stories that are recorded in these manuscripts are believed to be derived from a cycle of stories and songs circulating among Turkic peoples living in northeastern Anatolia and northwestern Azerbaijan.According to Lewis (1974), an older substratum of these oral traditions dates to conflicts between the ancient Oghuz and their Turkish rivals in Central Asia (thePecheneks and the Kipchaks), but this substratum has been clothed in references to the 14th-century campaigns of the Akkoyunlu Confederation of Turkic tribesagainst the Georgians, the Abkhaz, and the Greeks in Trebizond. Such stories and songs would have emerged no earlier than the beginning of the 13th century, andthe written versions that have reached us would have been composed no later thanthe beginning of the 15th century. By this time, the Turkic peoples in question had been in touch with Islamic civilization for seeral centuries, had come to callthemselves "Turcoman" rather than "Oghuz," had close associations with sedentary and urbanized societies, and were participating in Islamized regimes that includednomads, farmers, and townsmen. Some had abandoned their nomadic way of life altogether.

Afghanistan proceeded along the road of constitutional monarchy for a decade from 1963 to 1973 in the reign of King Muḥammad Ẓāhir (1933–1973) much as it had during the reign of King Amān Allāh (1919–1929). In the 1950s, parliamentary democracy was also practiced for a brief period. But these experiments failed, and the reigning monarchs were forced into exile in Italy. In 1973, Afghanistan was proclaimed a republic. This article examines why, in the last period, the constitutional system of government, as well as the well-established Afghan monarchy, collapsed.

This article examines the growing interest in questions of memory, trauma, and justice in Turkey, with a special focus on the notion of “coming to terms with the past.” Through an analysis of key academic and popular texts published between 2002 and 2013, it argues that “coming to terms with the past” is a therapeutic public discourse that rewrites national history through the temporality of trauma. In other words, this discourse reconfigures the sequence of past, present, and future as the beginning, development, and end of a case of collective trauma, applying the psychotherapeutic terminology of victimhood, healing, and forgiveness to social realities. The article offers new perspective on existing debates over “coming to terms with the past” by analyzing the limits of this therapeutic discourse and by exploring the potential and open-endedness of the politics of memory in Turkey.

Over the last fifteen years the Syrian Ba'th Party has succeeded-in a country previously known for weak governments and military coups-not only in entrenching a strong relatively stable system of single party rule, but also in launching its own variety of socialist and modernizing revolution. The explanation of this transformation in the nature of Syrian political life is one of the interesting problems of contemporary Syrian and Middle Eastern politics. What accounts for it? This essay will explore one approach to a partial explanation: a study of party recruitment and socialization practices.