It is a small book really, something more like a pamphlet. But when the Malaysian government sponsored the publication of a set of definitive guidelines for the observation of Islamic principle and practice in outer space, it was clearly hoping that this small booklet would make a not so subtle, if not stentorian, statement about Malaysia's newly claimed position of influence in the Islamic world (Jabatan Kemajuan Islam Malaysia 2007).Footnote ¹ The Guidelines were devised and developed not by the Malaysian National Space Agency (Agensi Angkasa Negara), as might be expected, but rather by Malaysia's Department of Islamic Development (Jabatan Kemajuan Islam Malaysia, or JAKIM). Presumably, this was meant first and foremost as a religious statement, at least as far as the intent is concerned, but there is much more to this project than first meets the eye. Given the involvement of the Malaysian government, the National Space Agency, and the Department of Islamic Development, the statement being made with the publication of these guidelines is in fact simultaneously religious, political, and scientific. This, in turn, raises a veritable slew of interrelated questions, some terrestrial, some celestial, and almost none of them without controversy.

All of these interrelated questions can be distilled down to two rather broad areas of inquiry, one dealing with intent and the other dealing with content. The first area of inquiry gravitates around the question of what specific conditions and events in Malaysia gave rise to the pursuit of space research in general and to the publication of the Guidelines in particular. The second area of inquiry gravitates around the twin questions of what specific claims are made by the Guidelines and whether the theological claims they propose hold up under careful scrutiny. In relation to the first area of inquiry, it is argued here that the decision to pursue a space research program and to publish the Guidelines was generated by a confluence of crises and challenges relating to the realignment of religious, social, and economic forces that inform Malaysian politics. In relation to the second area of inquiry, it is argued that the Guidelines do not just attempt to clarify Islamic principle and practice, but also actively and intentionally seek to innovate and renovate Islamic principle and practice as it relates to space research and cosmological precepts.

These arguments are presented through three central theaters of action into which Malaysia is projecting its complex and at times convoluted message: (1) the domestic theater of politics in Malaysia, (2) the international theater of politics in the Islamic world, and (3) the specialized theater of Islamic theology as it relates to scientific research and outer space. In the domestic theater, the Malaysian government is using the Guidelines as part of an ongoing political project to undermine conservative Islamic opposition to the putatively secularist orientation of the dominant coalition of parties that has controlled Malaysian politics since independence in 1957. In the international theater, the actions surrounding the publication of these guidelines in Malaysia are meant to signal a shift in the center of gravity of religious and cultural politics in the community of Islamic nations, away from the traditional center of the Middle East and toward an area usually cast in a supporting and almost peripheral role, namely Southeast Asia. And in the theological theater, the project of the Guidelines is designed to recapture the image of Islam as a religion of constructive knowledge and scientific innovation and also to announce Malaysia's self-conscious leadership role in this long-term project of scientific renaissance in the Islamic world.

Domesticating Space: The Theater of Malaysian Politics

The immediate causal chain that ended with the creation of the Guidelines began with the selection of Sheikh Muszaphar Shukor as Malaysia's first astronaut. Sheikh Muszaphar, an orthopedic surgeon and university lecturer, was chosen after a thorough and lengthy national competition to find the best candidate for Malaysia's maiden space voyage and to showcase the best of Malaysia's scientific talent. In spite of Malaysia's complex multicultural and multireligious demographics, with an ethnic Malay majority and substantial Indian and Chinese minority populations, it was clear from the start that an ethnic Malay was the favored “model” to represent Malaysia in space (Paidi and Ab Ghani Reference Paidi and Ghani2003). Because it is a constitutional requirement in Malaysia that all ethnic Malays also must be Muslim, it was also clear from the start that this was to be a showcase not just of national pride and scientific achievement, but of religious pride as well, an event that both Malaysians at home and Muslims around the world could celebrate with equal fervor.Footnote ² Sheikh Muszaphar was selected to travel on an already scheduled Russian Soyuz space journey, the sixteenth regularly scheduled trip to the International Space Station. The timing of the trip was crucial as well: the journey to the International Space Station was to take place in October 2007, which coincided with the month of Ramadan in the Islamic calendar. This, in turn, raised a series of religious questions about what a Muslim was to do, especially during a time of enhanced spiritual introspection such as Ramadan, in order to remain observant of the requirements of the faith even while traveling through the celestial sphere.

The religious answers to these questions, and the exact contents of the Guidelines themselves, will be dealt with in a separate section. For the present, the focus will remain on the deeper political forces that created this politically charged moment in which the Malaysian government grasped the chance to join the community of space-faring nations and self-consciously decided to make this a political and a religious achievement. To understand this in all of its nuance and complexity, one must first understand the political landscape of Malaysia, especially the array of political parties and the alliances they form to represent the interests and identities of the Malaysian polity.

At the center of the coalition that has dominated Malaysian politics since independence in 1957 is the United Malays National Organization (UMNO), a party that, from its inception, was designed to protect and promote ethnic Malay interests in Malaysian politics and to ensure the effective and continued dominance of ethnic Malay culture in defining public life in Malaysia (Milner Reference Milner and Gladney1998). The two main supporting members of the ruling coalition, known collectively as the Barisan Nasional (National Front), are the Malaysian Chinese Association (MCA), which represents primarily urban ethnic Chinese merchants and entrepreneurs, and the Malaysian Indian Congress (MIC), which represents in a rather inefficient, one-size-fits-all way the collective interests of the geographically and socioeconomically diverse ethnic Indian minority. These two parties of minority representation remain in alliance with a party that ostensibly appears to be antagonistic to their interests (the UMNO is dedicated to preserving Malay dominance) because the benefits of remaining in the alliance, however small they might be, continue to outweigh those of leaving the alliance. Until very recently, there simply has not been any democratic and viable alternative for the MCA or the MIC to better advocate for their constituencies (Mauzy Reference Mauzy, McGarry and O'Leary1993).

There have always been opposition parties—Malaysia is constitutionally a federal system and a multiparty democracy—which function sometimes in alliance with one another and other times as individual parties in opposition to each other and to the dominant Barisan Nasional. While the MCA may represent the urban, ethnic Chinese economic elite, there are at least two other parties that represent other sectors of the Chinese population, although, unlike the MCA, neither party was founded intentionally or exclusively as an ethnic-based party. The Democratic Action Party (DAP) was founded originally as a multiethnic, issue-based party, but, given the evolution of Malaysia's race-based system of political competition, the DAP quickly became known as an ethnic Chinese opposition party, representing Chinese interests outside of the ruling Barisan Nasional coalition. Like the DAP, the Gerakan Rakyat Malaysia (or simply Gerakan) party was also formed originally as a multiethnic, issue-driven party, but, given the political context of Malaysia, it was generally seen as a party that represented nonelite ethnic Chinese interests (unlike the MCA) but also opposed the oppositional and confrontational stance of the DAP in relation to the Barisan Nasional coalition.

The last tile in this ornate mosaic of political parties in Malaysia concerns the political battle within the Malay Muslim community to represent the “authentic” voice of that community. Although the UMNO has led the dominant coalition in Malaysia since independence, there has also been an opposition party competing with the UMNO to represent the Malay Muslim voice and to steer the Malaysian state in a different, more religious direction (Hooker Reference Hooker and Barnard2004). The Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS) has always been disappointed and disenchanted with the “secular” UMNO party, and for most of its history, it has been a staunch proponent of the idea that Malaysia should be an Islamic state, ruled in accordance with Islamic law and Islamic political institutions (Liow Reference Liow2004a). PAS has always been an opposition party, and while it has never posed a credible threat on its own to unseat the UMNO-led coalition at the federal level, it has managed to capture two state-level governments in Malaysia, namely the states of Kelantan and Terengganu. PAS has also been successful at maintaining continuous pressure on the UMNO to move toward a more Islamic perspective in its policies and actions, as seen, for instance, in the UMNO leadership's increasing insistence that its unique combination of Islamic principles and economic development will be the key to Malaysia's continued success (Noor Reference Noor2003).

The tectonic pressures that are generated by the interaction of all of these parties, at times as coalitions and at times as individual actors, help to explain the form, content, and timing of the Guidelines for Islamic principle and practice (or ibadah) in space, as well as the decision to pursue a space program for Malaysia in general. Although the UMNO-led Barisan Nasional coalition has held together and continues to dominate politics in Malaysia, it became clear in the 1990s that changes in the architecture of the coalition and of Malaysian politics in general were creating new anxieties for Malaysian political actors (Malhi Reference Malhi, Hooker and Othman2003). In particular, discontent over the legacy of the race-based structure of politics in Malaysia, a structure consciously cultivated since independence and cemented as a result of the horrific race riots of May 13, 1969, was changing the nature of the Barisan Nasional alliance and creating new challenges and political headaches for the UMNO leader and prime minister, Dr. Mahathir Mohamed (Gagliano Reference Gagliano1970; Goh Reference Goh1971; Soong Reference Soong2007).

During his tenure as prime minister from 1981 to 2003, Mahathir pursued a series of policies that were designed to rapidly develop Malaysia's economy, especially in high-tech fields such as science and engineering, and at the same time ensure that ethnic Malays were promoted in their socioeconomic status by offering them preferred access to these channels of development, either through employment preferences in these industries or scholarship preferences in educational institutions (Khoo Boo Teik Reference Teik1995; Kua Reference Kua1996). This New Economic Policy, as it was called—initiated in 1971 but enhanced, modified, and expanded under Mahathir—was designed to boost ethnic Malay visibility in the high-tech and entrepreneurial sector by creating a new Malay middle class, and to preempt possible ethnic and racial backlashes against the preferential treatment of Malays by ensuring a uniform and comprehensive economic development program in which all minorities would benefit as well (Hwang Reference Hwang2003).

In the 1990s, two changes occurred that threatened the stability of this “arrangement” under the New Economic Policy (rechristened the New Development Policy in 1990): First, the economic success enjoyed by the Chinese and Indian minority communities in the early 1990s actually led them to become more assertive in their political expression, both within the Barisan Nasional and as outside civil society actors. Second, with the Asian financial crisis of the summer of 1997 sending an unexpected and discomfiting shock into the evolution of Malaysia's economic growth, minority communities reacted strongly to the differential suffering created by the crisis, which fell disproportionately, it appeared to them, on the backs of the non-Malay communities. The alliance between the different communities as manifested in the Barisan Nasional, always uneasy even in the best of times, now showed signs of completely unraveling (Hilley Reference Hilley2001; Khoo Boo Teik Reference Teik2003).

At this point, a number of things were set in motion that explain the prioritization of the space program, in the context of Malaysia's increasingly vituperative political scene. First, as an unforeseen and certainly unappreciated consequence of the push for high-tech innovation in Malaysia's economy, civil society actors and opposition groups now took to cyberspace to voice alternative and often angry opinions about the state of Malaysia's political and economic scene, finding new and creative ways around Mahathir's increasingly authoritarian control of national media outlets. Some of these opinions were oppositional and constructive, but others were unapologetically racist and extremist, leaving Malay netizens reeling under the onslaught of hate speech, communal invective, and pseudo-apocalyptic polemic (Abbott Reference Abbott and Gomez2004; Marzuki et al. Reference Marzuki, Long, Ahmad, Wan Ab Rahman Khudzri Wan Abdullah, Fikri and Ismail2002). Years of race-based politics now revealed a deeply divided and deeply suspicious population, and the political air was filled with cries of reformasi (reformation).

Second, in the months leading up to the elections of 1999, a new oppositional alliance was formed, the Barisan Alternatif, which posed a substantial threat to the UMNO-based Barisan Nasional coalition by forming an oppositional bloc that advocated political reform through issue-based rather than identity-based political policy. The Barisan Alternatif also coalesced to take aim at Mahathir's aggressive tactics in the aftermath of the 1997 financial crisis, in particular his decision to fire his deputy prime minister, Anwar Ibrahim, and then to charge him (along with members of his family) for a ludicrous list of sexual crimes, before finally sending him jail without trial (Aun Reference Aun, Harding and Lee2007). The real reason behind the bitter split and the legal machinations to punish Anwar Ibrahim was that he had publicly undermined Mahathir's claim that only outsiders and foreigners were to blame for the crisis in Malaysia; he hinted that corruption and misrule at home, even at the highest level of governance, also played a large part in creating the crisis. This public act of “insolence” by the second in command was something Mahathir simply could not countenance (Verma Reference Verma2002).

Finally, although Mahathir had been particularly successful in orchestrating a series of domestic economic policies to help Malaysia weather the 1997 crisis, part of the recovery was going to require finding new and expanded export markets. With other Southeast Asian markets still reeling from the regionwide effects of the financial crisis, China became a logical and a necessary choice. The trouble with this choice is that it had a high probability of increasing the influence and standing of Malaysia's ethnic Chinese community, on whom the government would have to rely, at least in part, to create economic and financial networks with China. At the same time, with the threat of the Barisan Alternatif looming in the 1999 elections, the UMNO was forced to make concessions to the MCA and allow it a greater share of power and influence in the UMNO-led coalition that would also contest elections (Weiss Reference Weiss2006, 144, 169). This sudden vulnerability of the UMNO in political and economic terms, and the possibility of a renascent and assertive ethnic Chinese community taking advantage of new political and economic opportunities, had leading members of the UMNO concerned. The race riots of May 1969, a defining and cataclysmic moment in postindependence Malaysian politics, had originally been set off when two ethnic Chinese politicians won seats in a district of Kuala Lumpur that had been considered an ethnic Malay stronghold. Malaysian political institutions were not designed to accommodate rapid and transformative shifts in the electorate.

In spite of the threat of the Barisan Alternatif, the UMNO's fear-based campaign—it repeatedly warned citizens that a vote for the Barisan Alternatif was a vote for uncertainty and inaction in the face of the UMNO's proven record of stability and decisiveness—allowed it to remain at the head of the Barisan Nasional coalition and win the elections, leaving Mahathir in charge, though with a visibly reduced claim to power. What the UMNO needed at this point was something to entrench and expand its electoral mandate and to reestablish its sense of power and legitimacy, and at the same time to address the many concerns that still remained among a resurgent civil society that still demanded reformasi in the governance of Malaysia. And it is here that the space program was designed to work its multimandate magic. The space program and the desire to send Malaysia's first astronaut into space were packaged as a goal of a unified electorate, something that all Malaysians, regardless of their background, could participate in and be proud of. In effect, the UMNO could use space as a great unifier to rebuild and reclaim its electoral base, and because the space program was part and parcel of Malaysia's ongoing economic reconstruction and part of its “Vision 2020” campaign, the UMNO could also use space as a way to show its commitment to reform, thereby co-opting the proponents of reformasi, or at least rendering them redundant.Footnote ³ The UMNO felt confident enough that its policies had produced their desired effect, and in 2003, Mahathir, feeling that his work was perhaps finally done and everything was “in place,” stepped down and handed over the leadership of the party and country to his deputy prime minister, Abdullah Badawi (Elegant Reference Elegant2003).

As prime minister, Abdullah Badawi lacked the charisma and commanding authority of Mahathir, and he staked his claim to power at first largely on the continuation and expansion of policies already put in place by Mahathir, including, of course, the space program. The voices calling for increased democratization and complete structural reform (reformasi), while perhaps muted, felt more comfortable expressing themselves openly in a post-Mahathir Malaysia, and so it was not entirely an unexpected development that the administration of Abdullah Badawi announced in 2005 that there would be a nationwide competition to select Malaysia's first astronaut, a competition that would take up much of 2006, with the space flight itself to take place some time in 2007. Elections would then be held, not surprisingly, in 2008.

But there was one other element of the space program, and specifically the scheduled space flight, that went almost unnoticed, although its political intent was unmistakable. The space flight was procured in a way that completely bypassed any element of China's burgeoning space program, and the Malaysian government instead opted for a cost-ineffective and controversial billion-dollar package that required a lump-sum payment to the Russian government, plus an extensive contractual obligation to purchase several aircraft from the Russian military (specifically, eighteen Russian-made Sukhoi-30 MK fighter jets), all in order to reserve one seat for a Malaysian astronaut on a Soyuz rocket already heading to space anyway. In spite of the derisive response of many Malaysian bloggers that this, in effect, made the Malaysian astronaut more of a space tourist than an actual astronaut, the intent was clearly to find a counterbalance to growing Malaysian economic dependency on China and to growing political dependency on the ethnic Chinese in Malaysia by the UMNO.

All of this can at least explain the politics behind Malaysia's decision to pursue a space program and to send Malaysia's first astronaut into space, but there still remains the question of why Malaysia then went out of its way to make this into a religious statement about Islam as well. To address that question, one needs to examine both the shifting party platform of the other ethnic Malay political party in Malaysia, PAS, and the changing competitive relationship between PAS and the UMNO (Zain Reference Zain2005). While it has become a convenient shorthand in political writings on Malaysia to refer to the UMNO as secular and PAS as religious, the reality is somewhat more complex: both parties are necessarily Islamic in orientation (as legally, all ethnic Malays are required to be Muslims), and they differ only in their interpretation of how religious, or how Islamic, the Malaysian state should be (Hamayotsu Reference Hamayotsu2002; Hussein Reference Hussein, Wah and Teik2002). Until the 1990s, at least, PAS consistently accused the UMNO of “selling out” Malaysia's Islamic roots for the prize of political power, while the UMNO repeatedly accused PAS of trying to “talebanize” Malaysia and turn it into a fundamentalist, theocratic state (Liow Reference Liow2004b). Once the fog of hyperbole and rhetoric dissipates, the struggle between the UMNO and PAS boils down to a struggle over who has the right to define what “authentic” Islam is in the context of Malaysia (Shamsul Reference Shamsul, Hefner and Horvatich1997).

What Abdullah Badawi brought to the leadership of the UMNO was a considerable catalog of Islamic credentials that Mahathir seemed to lack. Under Badawi's leadership, for instance, the Malaysian government has been engaged for the past few years in an ongoing project that it describes as “Civilizational Islam” (Islam Hadhari), a form of Islam that embraces the gifts of modernity such as science, technology, and education, and that is intentionally counterpoised to the more traditional and conservative type of Islam embraced by PAS (at least until recently) (Khambali and Hamid Reference Khambali and Hamid2006; Liow Reference Liow, Reid and Gilsenan2007; Saleh and Ismail Reference Saleh and Ismail2006).Footnote ⁴ The use of Islam to buttress the UMNO's religious credentials is not an entirely new development, of course (Fealy Reference Fealy, Lahoud and Johns2005). Throughout its long era of control at the political helm of the Malaysian state, the UMNO has repeatedly preempted challenges from PAS by intervening more aggressively in the politics of Islam in Malaysia. Since the 1970s, for instance, the UMNO-led state has sponsored periodic dakwah (Islamic mission) campaigns to extend and entrench the presence of Islam in Malaysian society (Nagata Reference Nagata, Matthews and Nagata1986; Shamsul Reference Shamsul and James1995). When Anwar Ibrahim first emerged as a supporter of PAS and a charismatic leader of ABIM (Angkatan Belia Islam Malaysia), an Islamic youth movement, Mahathir personally recruited him to the UMNO, thereby co-opting what might have been a strong personal challenge to Mahathir and UMNO rule. And in the 1990s, when a somewhat radical and certainly heterodox sect of Islam calling itself the Al-Arqam movement emerged, the UMNO-led government at first allowed it to operate in the hope that it would split the PAS electorate, but when Al-Arqam began to engage in practices that violated the Malaysian constitution (e.g., practicing gender segregation), the UMNO shut down the Al-Arqam movement and reasserted its authority by claiming the right to define what was acceptably Islamic and what was not (Abdul Hamid Reference Abdul Hamid2003; An'Naim Reference An'Naim, Bauer and Bell1999). Indeed, JAKIM, the office that issued the Guidelines at the request of the UMNO-led government, was established in 1996 and entrusted with the task of reforming, modernizing, and standardizing Islamic practice in Malaysia (Riddell Reference Riddell2001, 258–60). While its record may lack a certain consistency and its level of performance may be somewhat imperfect, JAKIM persists as a central institution of Islamic modernization in the service of Malaysia and the UMNO. As Joseph Chinyong Liow rightly points out, “[JAKIM] remains a vital institutional pillar of UMNO's objective of defining and safeguarding the parameters of Islam while augmenting the party's and the government's Islamic credentials” (2009, 52).

It is in this context that the issuance of the Guidelines makes perfect sense. With PAS toning down its earlier rhetoric on the need for a state governed by Islamic law and shifting instead to a rhetoric on the need for institutional reform and issue-based politics, the UMNO has used the space program in general and the Guidelines in particular to show that it has stayed true to its original principles, that it has successfully brought science and development to Malaysia without compromising the integrity of Islam or of the state itself, and that it still commands the legitimacy and authority to define Islam in a way that is theologically rigorous and politically relevant. As a domestic political event, the UMNO has managed to package its space ventures to gain maximum political mileage: with an ethnic Malay astronaut, the space program is something that Malays can celebrate as a political achievement; with an astronaut who is also a Muslim, the space program is something that Muslims can celebrate as a religious achievement; and with a Malaysian national as an astronaut, it is something that all Malaysian citizens can celebrate as a national achievement.

Claiming Space: The Theater of International Relations

Even as the UMNO has tried to reserve for itself the right to define Islam in Malaysia in a way that suits its political goals and provides a mantle of cultural legitimacy to its means and methods, the UMNO-led government of Malaysia has also sought to assert itself in the international arena in ways that are designed to challenge the informally accepted view that orthodoxy and legitimacy in the Islamic world flow from the Middle East, the “heartland” of Islam, to the outer Islamic periphery, and not vice versa (Abdul Hamid Reference Abdul Hamid2005; Mehmet Reference Mehmet1990; Nair Reference Nair1997). Whether in earlier centuries of the transmission of Islamic knowledge into Malay cultural centers, or in more recent movements of Islamic reform dating to the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the prevailing view has been that the Malay Muslim world received and adapted, rather than produced and disseminated, authoritative knowledge and practice regarding Islam (Azra Reference Azra, Dudoignon, Hisao and Yasushu2006; Riddell Reference Riddell2001, 8–10). But under the leadership of Mahathir and, more recently, of Abdullah Badawi, there has been an effort to cultivate Malaysian Islamic civilization as its own center of knowledge, and to promote this outwardly, in essence reversing the traditional flow of knowledge throughout the Islamic world, with Malaysia making its claim for leadership in this process through its various initiatives (Shuib Reference Shuib, Mustaffa, Abdullah and Ghani2006, 166).

One of the most dramatic and perhaps the most egregious example of this was Mahathir's last public speech—spectacle might be a better term—in October 2003, when Malaysia hosted the annual summit of the Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC). Much to the dismay of some of those in attendance, but perhaps in perfect harmony with Mahathir's grand vision for Malaysia's future, Mahathir went on the offensive and called on Muslims in Malaysia and around the world to rise up and unite and to use the tools of science and modernity to unsettle and overturn Jewish domination of the world.Footnote ⁵ The Jews, argued Mahathir, had been able to achieve a position of dominance, in spite of their small numbers, because they had embraced education, science, and technology, and then had used those tools to expand their influence into other fields, including politics. Mahathir even went so far as to say that human rights were a Jewish conspiracy designed to secure Jewish domination in global politics. Mahathir thus concluded that Muslims had to embrace the same tools—namely science and technology—and use them to gain a global influence that would first emulate and then overtake the dominance that, by Mahathir's claim, the Jews had achieved.

What Mahathir was doing here was as brilliant as it was disturbing. By making the claim that he knew what was necessary and best for Muslims around the world, he was clearly making a claim for leadership in the Muslim world. By stating that the pathway to a new Islamic world that would assert itself in a dominant and dignified way on the global stage was the pathway already being forged by Malaysia, Mahathir was implicitly arguing that Malaysia's path was superior to anything yet offered up from the traditional “heartland” of Islam, the Middle East. The new assertiveness of Mahathir's campaign is described by Mohd Ali Kamarudin and Jamaie Hj Hamil as a new political environment in which “[f]actors of globalization, with the influence IT and global development planning, demand that the Malays become more audacious, progressive, and competitive, with a heightened sense of consciousness, to create a new era for Malay politics” (Reference Kamarudin, Hamil, Mehbob and Musa2005, 116). According to Lily Zubaidah Rahim, the decision to host the OIC conference was part of a concerted and intentional bid by Mahathir for leadership of the Islamic world:

The periphery was, in essence, making a bid to usurp the presumed authority of the center. By arguing that Islam could only reclaim its past glory by embracing the tools of science and modernity, Mahathir was also attacking the traditionalists of the Islamic world, both internationally and, more importantly, in Malaysia (Ibrahim Reference Ibrahim2002). Mahathir was clearly making a claim that only the UMNO's interpretation of Islam, and not that of PAS, could put Malaysia and Islam back at the center of global politics (Nagata Reference Nagata2007). And by linking human rights to a global Jewish conspiracy, Mahathir was also indirectly attacking the growing chorus of critics in Malaysia who were expressing frustration and concern with Mahathir's legacy of heavy-handed authoritarianism and the concomitant deterioration of human rights in Malaysia. Anyone who complained about Mahathir's tactics or voiced concern over his trampling of human rights standards, it seems—and this would include the former deputy prime minister, Anwar Ibrahim, who at the time was still in jail—was, in fact, part of a larger Jewish conspiracy that no “true” Muslim could possibly support.

Not all of Malaysia's attempts to claim a more influential role in the community of Muslim nations have been this dramatic. Malaysia has competed to host a number of international sporting events in recent years, including grand prix races and golf tournaments, and the country has even gone so far as to build an entirely new aquatic complex to attract international swimming competitions to Malaysia. Sporting events are politically symbolic, and clearly the intent here is for Malaysia to counter the common image of Islamic countries as being too restrictive and prohibitive to host such events, especially swimming competitions, which may include female competitors (Radzi Reference Radzi2006). Malaysia has also introduced, through its very own car manufacturer, Proton, what it calls the world's first Islamic car, a luxury model that comes complete with a qiblat compass and a dedicated compartment for a Quran (Brant Reference Brant2007).Footnote ⁶ Malaysia is also well aware that it is in fierce competition with Singapore to attract investment and create a vibrant economic environment in Southeast Asia, and Malaysia has tried to gain an advantage by introducing Islamic banking principles for potential investors who may show a preference for this style of finance (Hassan Reference Hassan, Razali, Ghani and Abdullah2005; Hamayotsu Reference Hamayotsu and Gomez2004; Nagata Reference Nagata, Brook and Van Luong1997). Yet all of these efforts, including the push for Islamic finance, are part of a sustained campaign to assert a leadership role for Malaysia in the Islamic world, and no longer to accept an inferior role as “small brothers” to the Arabs:

Even Abdullah Badawi, in linking all of these developments to the cultivation of Islam Hadhari in Malaysia, has described his country as “a modest working model of renewal, reform, and perhaps a ‘renaissance’ in the Muslim world” (Reference Badawi2006, 45).

And then there is the Malaysian space program and the publication of the Guidelines, both of which can be seen as part of the same process of claiming a political space for Malaysia in the theater of international politics. Domestically within Malaysia, the publication of the Guidelines may have been a strategic act to reassert the UMNO's authority to define the acceptable limits of Islam from the top down, but there is an equally important international strategy as well. The Guidelines were initially written in Malay, after a conference of clerics hosted in Malaysia first debated and then devised the set of principles for Muslims in space. But almost immediately, the government of Malaysia declared its intention to have the Guidelines translated into other major languages of the world, starting with Arabic, English, and Russian, with others to follow. Sheikh Muszaphar Shukor may be the first Malaysian to go into space, but he is not the first Muslim; that honor belongs to Prince Sultan bin Salman Abdulaziz Al-Saud from Saudi Arabia. But the idea here is that for any Muslims who travel to space in the future, they will look not to the heartland of the Islamic world or to the traditional learned centers such as Al-Azhar for guidance on how to practice Islam in space, but rather to the Guidelines offered to the world by Malaysia.

There is an extraordinarily rich and complex set of political questions that is summoned by the publication of these Guidelines. Malaysia has long been aware that its peripheral status in the Islamic world is based only partly on geography. Like so many other nations on the periphery, Malaysia has a diverse set of cultural influences that inform the practice of Islam and create the elements of “Malaysian-ness.” Because many of these influences take religious and cultural practice further and further away from the putative standards emanating from the Islamic heartland, Islam on the periphery is often seen as too syncretistic or perhaps even too impure to offer a leadership role of any effective guidance on the practice of Islam (Riddell Reference Riddell2001, 258–60). Malaysian Islam, as one observer put it, “is seen to lack the depth and authenticity of strains found elsewhere,” and, as a result, its influence in the Islamic world has been “minimal” (Gatsiounis Reference Gatsiounis2006).

Within Malaysia, this awareness has informed much of the competition between the UMNO and PAS, and many of the UMNO-sponsored dakwah campaigns dating to the 1970s were designed not merely to preempt efforts by the PAS leadership to define an Islamic standard for Malaysia, but also to expunge syncretistic practices and other perceived anomalies in the practice of Malaysian Islam and to bring it closer to the practices of the Arab heartland (Abdullah Reference Abdullah, Sham, Ibrahim and Endot2000; Ibrahim Reference Ibrahim, Sulaiman Ibrahim and Puteh2000; Jomo and Cheek Reference Jomo, Cheek, Kahn and Wah1992). But each of these campaigns always produced a backlash within Malaysia from various quarters, with many opponents arguing that both the UMNO and PAS were confusing Arab practices with Islamic ones, and that the Arabization of Malay culture would ultimately undermine, if not completely contradict, the whole project of cultivating Malay dominance in the cultural and political realm of Malaysia (Liow Reference Liow2009, 163–66). As pointed out by Salika Hassan and Che Hamdan Che Mohd Razali, the need to orchestrate campaigns that are simultaneously Islamic and (culturally) Malay is an important part of the UMNO's strategy, as it “gives an important assignment to the UMNO with regard to its contribution to the image of an Islamic kingdom” (2005, 254).

The outward reorientation of Malaysia from the periphery toward the center, and the attempt to find acceptance at the center, has created a tension in Malaysia between those who embrace the “cleansing” of Malaysia Islam and those who favor the cultivation of a unique Islam based on traditional Malaysian cultural values (Daud Reference Daud2006, 111). As Khoo Gaik Cheng argues, “This continues to be problematic for Malays who regard themselves as Muslims first and who try to separate themselves from the cultural context of their identity, an identity whose founding Islamic elements incorporated Hindu elements” (Reference Cheng2006, 108). Some, such as Ahmad Fawzi Mohd Basri and Mohd Idris Sallah, have explicitly delinked some aspects of Malay Islam from the “Arab practices and cultural forms that are observed half-heartedly by Malays in Malaysia” (Reference Basri and Sallah2006, 188). The Guidelines, as a project to define a unified and uniform Islamic practice for all space-faring Muslims, can be seen in some way as an attempt to transform the perspective of Malaysia as a peripheral nation looking toward the center to one of Malaysia as an alternative center in a new Islamic world, one with a plurality of centers, and hence a plurality of identities.Footnote ⁷ The irony here is that Malaysia ends up stifling Islamic diversity at home in order to buttress a claim to recognize diversity elsewhere, specifically in the international relations of the Islamic world.Footnote ⁸

Sacred Space: Islam, Science, and the Guidelines

Secular politics aside, there is a whole theological component to the Guidelines as well, including some elements of what might be called theological politics. The Malaysian government, through JAKIM, might have been making a political gesture to claim a central spot for what is normally considered a more peripheral country in the Islamic world, but this political bid would only work if both the science and the theology of the Guidelines held up under scrutiny. There is nothing inherently arrogant about the theological intent of the pamphlet. As Michael Cook notes in his eloquent treatise on right and wrong in Islam,

There is also nothing unusual about the attempt to link theology, or at least religious practice, with modernity and science, as this has been done many times before. Indeed, the whole project of Islam Hadhari endeavors to make this link explicit and permanent (Wahida and Hanim Reference Wahida, Kamil, Rahim and Murad2006, 85–86). But JAKIM, and through it the Malaysian government, is trying to do something more than just link together theological principles and scientific acts; it is striving for more, for a definitive statement about a frontier element of both theology and science, and that frontier element is outer space.Footnote ⁹ Therefore, it only makes sense to turn a critical eye to the Guidelines to see whether there is rigor in its theological rhetoric and scientific methods.

The introduction to the Guidelines makes it clear that the elements of Islamic principle and practice, known collectively as ibadah, are strictly obligatory for Muslims, regardless of situation, time, or location, but that certain “obstacles” (halangan) can often interfere with the ability to perform ibadah, in which case the rules of performance can be eased, but in a principled manner rather than by individual discretion. The Guidelines were thus drawn up by qualified Islamic scholars so that scientists and other space travelers would know with certainty the proper rules of easing the religious obligations of ibadah so that they could concentrate on the secular obligations of their own research. “Living by the principles of Islam,” concludes the introduction of the Guidelines, “ensures that the current scientific investigation will be meaningful.” Science and Islam are thus linked, insofar as the scientific research remains “meaningful” if the astronaut can remain mindful of religious practice while in the midst of scientific enquiry.

The domain covered by the Guidelines, namely outer space, is also defined in the text, although the definition lacks any sense of scientific rigor or specificity. Space as a term is first given in three alternative forms: (1) udara, which can mean generally the air or the atmosphere; (2) langit, which can mean the sky or “the heavens” (cf. Ar. samāwāt); and (3) angkasa lepas, the general term for “outer space” (which translates more accurately as “open space”). Then the definition is elucidated: outer space is “the space outside of the layers of atmosphere that encircle the earth.” This is a negative definition—whatever is not Earth or atmosphere is space—but the phrasing is decidedly ambiguous: it can mean either whatever is outside the atmosphere that encircles the Earth, or it can mean whatever encircles the Earth outside the atmosphere. If the latter is correct, it would imply that the Guidelines address outer space only to the extent that the astronaut remains somehow connected to Earth, that is, within the pull of Earth's gravitational field. Interestingly, Sheikh Muszaphar Shukor unwittingly touched off a note of controversy by stating that he looked forward to being in space so that he could be “closer to Allah,” thereby walking right into a centuries-old debate among Muslim theologians as to whether Allah pervades and saturates the universe or whether Allah has a place and location within the universe, specifically in the heavens (Nasr Reference Nasr and al-Hassan2001).

The Guidelines refer to the existence of multiple and often contradictory opinions on the issue of Islam in space, and state quite clearly that the Guidelines are intended to provide a solution to this and other related problems regarding Islam in space. The focus of the Guidelines is specific and practical, centering on the observance of ibadah through the performance of the following ritual acts.

Cara beristinja’(the method ofistinja,or cleansing). This section deals with the removal of any “filth” (najis) that would make one unfit or impure for prayer (11). While discussing both wet and dry methods of cleansing, it also calls for a solution that is quite specific to the International Space Station by specifying that an astronaut should simply use no fewer than three of the special disinfectant wipes available on the station. This very specific instruction is somewhat odd and out of key with the tone elsewhere in the Guidelines, as it would seem to work against the ability of the Guidelines to be a general reference to the practice of Islam in space.

Mengangkat Hadas(ablutions). The Guidelines differentiate between minor (kecil) and major (besar) impurities (hadas), but propose the same solution for both in the form of tayammum, or dry ablution. Normally, hadas kecil would require ablutions, while hadas besar would require bathing to remove the existing impurities. In spite of the fact that the International Space Station is largely a dust-free environment, the ritual ablution must still be performed, and the Guidelines recommend that this be done through slapping the hands on any clean, flat surface, such as a wall or mirror (12).

Penentuan Qiblat(determiningqiblat,or proper direction of prayer). This was the original issue that generated the need for a set of rules for Muslims in space: in which direction does one face to pray when orbiting the Earth in a weightless environment at 17,000 kilometers per hour? The proposed solution is somewhat trivial and straightforward, and seems drawn more from common sense rather than from theological disputation. The astronaut is to face in one of the following directions, which are listed in order from most preferred to least preferred: (1) the kaabah; (2) the projection (unjuran) of the kaabah (into space); (3) Earth; (4) any direction (mana-mana arah). The Guidelines do not address or resolve in any way the complexities of determining qiblat in terms of geometric specificity, which remains an issue even in terrestrial theological debates (12).

Penentuan Waktu Solat(determining time of prayer). This seemingly straightforward part of the Guidelines actually creates more questions about the practice of Islam in space than it answers. On this point, the Guidelines are succinct: the five prayer times will be kept on a twenty-four-hour clock (one Earth day), and the time of prayer will be determined by the time zone of the last point of Earth contact (tempat berlepas) of the astronaut (13). The first strange thing to note here is that this section seems to hold that the twenty-four-hour clock of one Earth day will remain valid in outer space, and presumably throughout the universe or wherever a Muslim astronaut might need to travel. This creates a certain theological tension, as the requirement of praying five times per day is clearly based, scripturally and theologically, on Earth-based practice and Earth-centric experience. But the chronology of the universe is complicated, and time is a fluid component of the cosmological architecture; at the simplest level of objection, the concept of a “day” differs on every celestial body, and requiring the universe to conform to a telluric chronology will ultimately reveal a contradiction that is impossible to resolve. The same is true of requiring a Muslim in space to maintain prayer times based on the last point of Earth contact. If space becomes colonized or if an increasingly large number of Muslims enter space from different points on Earth, there will be no unified prayer time in space. This, in turn, would make prayer times idiosyncratic and individualistic, working against the collective practice of ritual that provides the foundation for the Islamic community, or umma.

Cara Menunaikan Solat(determining the demeanor of prayer). The first rule regarding the demeanor of prayer in the Guidelines is that while prayers can be combined (jama’) or shortened (qasar), they cannot be compensated (qadā’), on the grounds that prayer is an essential pillar of faith (rukun) (13). Then there are six possible options for the correct physical performance of prayer, listed in order of most preferable to least preferable: if upright standing is not possible, then (1) any standing posture; (2) sitting (with forehead facing the knee as a substitute for prostrating); (3) lying on the right side facing qiblat (according to the rules above); (4) lying flat on the back; (5) using motions of the eye to signal the various gestures of prayer; and (6) using the mind to visualize (menggambarkan dirinya) the ritualized sequence of prayer (13–14). One cannot work one's way down the list merely out of convenience; serious and strenuous effort (berupaya) is required at each level before one can move down the list to perform a less preferred manner of prayer. Finally, the Guidelines emphasize that all of these options refer only to physical gestures; the words of prayer are not to change or differ in any way from the manner of utterance on Earth. This raises the question of where the meaning and spiritual depth of prayer occurs in Islam—in physical expression, in verbal utterance, or in some combination of the two. Given the demanding environment of space, one wonders whether there might come a day when prayers become exclusively verbal in Islam, at least as it is practiced in space.

Cara Menunaikan Puasa(determining the method of fasting). Fasting (puasa) during Ramadan can be performed in space, provided it is possible or, in the case of the International Space Station, does not interfere with scientific research. Unlike prayer, fasting can be compensated (qadā’) by fasting for an equal amount of time on Earth to make up for the time when fasting was avoided in space (15). If fasting is observed in space, the time of fasting is set according to the time zone of the point of departure from Earth, which remains in effect throughout the duration of the space journey. Both of these ritual clarifications seem to assume a short-term space journey, and both remain Earth-oriented in their interpretation. What would happen if no fasting were observed at all during Ramadan, given that the astronaut is in a harsh environment and in space during the entire duration of Ramadan? The compensation is supposed to occur also during Ramadan, according to the Guidelines, but long-term space travel might make this inconvenient, if not outright impossible. And the earlier caveat about imposing Earth-based time zones for observance of religious rituals holds true here as well: in a space colony where Muslim travelers left the Earth from many different locations, fasting might cease to be a collective act, and would instead become individualized, assuming it could be observed at all in the demanding environment of outer space.

Pengurusan Jenazah(disposal of the dead). The first preference is that the body of the deceased should be returned to Earth for proper funeral rites and burial. If this proves to be logistically impossible, then the dead should be spiritually “contemplated” (menyemadikannya) and then jettisoned into space, accompanied by a concise ceremony (dengan pengurusan jenazah secara yang ringkas) (15). The strong preference for bringing the body of the deceased back to Earth implies that the proper procedure to accord with Islamic eschatology remains Earth based. It is unclear either in Islam or in other religions how methods of disposing of the dead will necessarily change if space colonization proceeds as planned, either on the grounds of logistics or of public (cosmic) health.

The Guidelines conclude with a number of general observations and claims, some straightforward, and some quite profound. If halal food cannot be obtained on the International Space Station or during space travel, notes the Guidelines, then the Muslim astronaut is permitted to eat whatever is available, but just enough to cease the sensation of hunger (16), The issue of proper Muslim clothing is also addressed, in relation to the need to cover the aurat of a space-faring Muslim: for the man, the restriction of aurat is navel to knee (di antara pusat dan lutut), whereas for a woman, it is the entire body except for the face and palms of both hands (selain muka dan dua tapak tangan) (16). Incidentally, this happens to be the only place in the Guidelines where the possibility of a woman in space is specifically mentioned; at no point in the entire text is the word angkasawati (female astronaut) used, and in the clarification of aurat, only the generic word for woman (perempuan) is used.

The final two claims of the Guidelines are certainly the most profound and provocative, and both remain unsubstantiated by theological reasoning or textual support, at least within the Guidelines themselves. The first is that traveling into space is not just encouraged but obligatory (diharuskan) by the principles of Islam (16). This is a rather strong claim, and would seem to appear in the Guidelines to preempt any challenges to Malaysia's space program by other Islamic theologians or politicians and to challenge other Muslims to engage in scientific pursuits by intertwining the principles of science with the principles of Islam. Indirectly, it is an attack on fundamentalist and extremist Muslims who feel that tradition is a far better foundation for the global Islamic community than modernity.

The second claim is that a Muslim astronaut must respect the ethics of space travel according to the principles of Islam. These principles require that space travel simultaneously serve the following goals: first, to perpetuate relations with Allah; second, to create harmony with all fellow creatures (makhluk); and third, to preserve the surrounding environment (alam sekitar) (17). The suggestion that space travel can and should perpetuate relations with Allah can mean either that travel to space may bring a Muslim astronaut closer to Allah, that travel in space is desirable because it allows a Muslim astronaut to see more of Allah's wondrous realm, or that a Muslim astronaut should simply remain mindful of Allah in the course of space travel and all accompanying endeavors (such as research). The suggestions that space travel should create harmony with fellow creatures can imply that a Muslim astronaut who has been to space will develop a new appreciation for life on Earth (makhluk specifically refers to nonhuman fellow creatures), or that a Muslim astronaut should respect alien life in the universe, when and if it is encountered. And the suggestion that space travel should preserve the surrounding environment articulates a desire that Muslims practice a form of mindful environmentalism, both in terrestrial and extraterrestrial ecologies.