Saturday, May 1, 2021

Ethics and Knowledge in a Time of Uncertainty (continued)

Last week I raised a question about how conspiracies are not only linked to fake and untested knowledge. They may also be seen as desperate attempts to fill the gaps in a world that promises to be predictable. I closed with a quick nod to a religious worldview in which ethics is not always linked to full knowledge and predictability. I want to follow this up more closely. 

A world determined by God is both certain and unpredictable. In contrast with God, humans might never know in great detail what is to happen in the future. But they trust in God to know, and then accept whatever happens. For humans, the future remains fundamentally unpredictable. 

But let us consider how this ethic is offered in the Qur’an. Rather than a philosophical or theological postulate, it is presented in a concrete form. Consider the following Qur’anic verse (ayah, literally sign): 

Indeed, God has knowledge of the Hour and sends down the rain and knows what is in the wombs. And no soul perceives what it will earn tomorrow, and no soul perceives in what land it will die. Indeed, Allah is Knowing and Aware (Qurán 31:34)

The verse captures the sense that God knows the hidden and the future while humans do not. The verse specifically spells out aspects of the future.

I have often wondered how to translate this verse in a world in which modern sciences seek to know the world and its future. Clearly, there are aspects that are still beyond knowledge. We might count here the 'knowledge of the Hour', what one will 'earn tomorrow', where one might die. But some aspects mentioned in the verse are not as opaque. With a greater understanding of the world, for example, we have a better understanding of rain and what is in the wombs. 

I would go one step further and argue that, in general, we live in world in which what we earn tomorrow and where we might die is also probed. Economists and statisticians work tirelessly on models that predict how we might earn, and where we would die. Such models are built on extensive data fed into machines for processing. Big data in recent times is built on this conception of models and their predictability.  

Of course, we do not know what a particular person may earn or where she may die. But the models have been fairly accurate in predicting what people may do, or shaping may do. The former is embraced by scientists who think that human behavior is predictable, while the latter argue that these models fed into human relations and communication are self-fulfilling prophecies. 

My point in this is to show how one verse in the Qurán on knowledge of the future stands against a model of the world founded on knowledge and predictability. In the verse (sign) of the Qurán, humans are reminded how little they know, and thus act accordingly. In contrast, sciences founded on incremental knowledge geared towards the predictability of the future, creates an ethics based on knowing. 

Until the 1960s, social scientists predicted that this model of science would eventually replace religious worldviews determined by divine knowledge and fiat. Based on their understanding of the world, Weber, Marx and lesser mortals predicted and assumed the future course of the world. 

We now emphasize how wrong they were, sometimes with some glee. Others counter that this prediction is not dead, but needs adjustment. Again, prediction can never be accurate, but faith in it is not given up. 

For me, the question that remains is how people balance these contrasting maps of the world? What do they do when they think that everything is knowable, and what do they do when they face the uncertainty of the future?

In my previous post, I was suggesting that COVID-19 throws up this conundrum for our consideration. The development of the vaccine is predicated on eventually knowing its nature, and understanding what the future will hold. The actual production of the vaccine, its distribution and sale present a world full of unpredictables and uncertainties. 

The time of COVID-19 might be the place for thinking of the right thing to do in the face of uncertainties. It might offer ways of how religious values and ethics may work in the gaps of knowledge.


Sunday, April 25, 2021

COVID19, Conspiracies: Islamic Ethics and Predictability

To put it mildly, the COVID-19 pandemic is difficult to navigate. Apart from losing loved ones, near and far, the challenge of obtaining accurate and reliable information on the virus places additional strain.  And we turn to social media for getting information at a click or a finger push. But here the information is as ubiquitous as it is fraught with deep uncertainty. Is ethics possible when knowledge is not complete?

Ethics, COVID-19 and Science

Knowledge of COVID-19 has led to two problematic social outcomes. There are also good outcomes, but I want to address the former in this blog. The one is a headlong conviction in conspiracy theories. These range from the invisible hand of Bill Gates to the fact that there is no such thing as a unique virus. 'It is just a flu,' I have heard often. Secondly and relatedly, I have come across an increasing number of people who refuse to take social precautions to prevent the spread of the virus. 

It seems that knowledge of the virus is closely tied to the ethical behaviour of protecting oneself and others. Since many of these doubts have a tinge of religiosity, it might be good to take another look at science and its contribution to how we see and behave in the world. 

Knowledge and Predictability

Modern science is rooted in its predictability. When an experiment produces the same results repeatedly, it can be considered true until a new experiment refines or disproves it. We entered COVID with a new challenge, but with the conviction that it will soon pass. We will soon know how the virus behaves and develop a cure or vaccine against it.

Science, from this perspective, has introduced a dimension of predictability in the world. It creates a strong impression that the laws of nature are known or knowable. Knowledge or belief in science creates a conviction of the world. And, to a greater or lesser extent, we live and act by this conviction. Human action in a world of science is rooted in the predictability of the world.

When a mobile phone does not work, for example, we know that it can be fixed. Something that is supposed to work in a particular way has malfunctioned. Another way of saying this is that the malfunctioning has worked unpredictably. When repaired, it will again be as predictable as it was before. 

Medicine is more difficult but works more or less on the same foundation. The human body is highly complex and human behaviour is even more so.  But deep down, medicine works with the same model of knowledge and predictability. The more we know, the better we can behave in the future.

COVID19 and Unpredictability

Covid19 has introduced a dimension of unpredictability to this outlook. As the "behaviour" of the virus is tracked in experiments, it also changes regularly in relation to new variants. As the virus seems to react differently in different bodies, the unpredictability of its effects grows. And as scientific results and anecdotal information is shared across social media, the prognosis of the virus seems to defy predictability. 


COVID-19 is a great introduction to how science works. Scientists have been producing results and vaccines in peer-reviewed journals at great speed. But no sooner have these results been disseminated, new results refine or contradict the earlier results. And the process continues incrementally until we get a better idea of the virus, its effects and its prognosis. Or we might come up with information that we were wrong all the time. This is how science works.

COVID19 has given as a time-lapse version of this process. What used to take years and decades is now seen on television, Facebook and Twitter playing out in less than 18 months. 

But the picture is mediatized, which is better and worse for science and its goal of predictability. Journalists summarize, and scientists share their alternative results. Political leaders see COVID-19 as a challenge or opportunity. And pharmaceutical companies promote experiments and vaccines with profits, not always science, in mind. Social media has given us access to knowledge that we could never have imagined.

As many commentators have argued, this has created a perfect place for conspiracies. But conspiracies are not only the result of popular social or religious lore - they are not only spun from untested beliefs. They are supported by a perception of science that it can predict the future with pinpoint accuracy. Conspiracy theories are filling in the gaps that scientists cannot fill fast enough. 

Many conspiracies are based on pseudo-scientific notions that pretend to be science. New unknown "facts" are offered through "shares." An alternative is offered, one that is rooted in a scientific model that is more predictable than the one scientists are working with the COVID-19 epidemic. 

So while conspiracies seem to be defying all scientific norms, they peddle the predictability of science in highly problematic ways. 

Ethics and Full Knowledge

But I want to come back to the ethics of knowing and not knowing. When knowledge of something is not guaranteed, does it mean that ethical behaviour should be suspended? Since we do not know with certainty how the COVID-19 virus acts, we can suspend ethics towards others.

I am reminded of a central story in the Chapter of the Cave in the Qur'an where the Prophet Moses wishes to accompany a wise man to learn something from him. One of the main morals from this story is that much of life is obscured from full disclosure. Doing good does not sometimes appear to be doing good. Knowing everything is not a precondition for doing good. 

We live in a modern world determined by science and technology. But the COVID-19 might point to doing good when knowledge is not complete as yet, or will never be. So, ethics cannot be based on certain knowledge. It cannot be dependent on knowing everything beforehand. A good deed is one done in some darkness, and it may change the world. 


Friday, January 1, 2021

Ethics of a COVID Vaccine

In the last few days, South African television has raised questions about the availability of COVID vaccines. The television debate fanned a now familiar and plausible narrative that the government of the country has botched up again. This easily believable story has been pushed by opposition spokesperson offered extensive airtime. As usual, there is more to the story than is evident in contemporary democratic politics.

Behind the narrative, it was clear that questions remained on the process that led to the vaccine. This included the great science and scientists behind the vaccines, but also government subsidies given to large companies, the testing of the vaccines across the world, and various attempts made to distribute the vaccine in an equitable manner. 

Now, it seems that wealthy countries are getting ahead of the queues. Pushing up the prices, they are threatening the availability of sufficient vaccines for all. In the rush to stem the second wave, the ethics of fair distribution of vaccines are forgotten. The first sign of light at the end of the tunnel has brought back the familiar world and its morality.

The COVID19 pandemic has been difficult to say the least. But it seemed to have elevated a realization of the precarity that faces the world as a collective. And it showed that working together was the only option available for the world. One person who chose to ignore the dangers of the virus exposed potentially many more. And one person who cared could make a huge difference to many. Ironically, the virus brought forth the potential for another world. 

But now that there is some glimmer of hope, the sense of belonging to one world is being jettisoned. Countries that can afford the vaccine are jumping ahead and buying up stocks. Public funds used to subsidize the vaccines are forgotten. Countless people who volunteered to be tested are ignored.

It seems that greed and competition are the only ethical values that determine who gets to live and who gets to die. There are some platitudes passed around about availability of the vaccines in the future.  But the ethics of working together is jettisoned. 

South Africa presents a familiar scenario. The opposition is there to point to the folly of the government. but it too has no real alternative to the ethics of funding that drives the vaccine and its distribution. Given half a chance, it will perpetuate the bifurcated world we have come to accept. A few will be offered the vaccines at inflated prices, while the rest will be herded in crowded and dangerous places. As usual, it will seem that modern science has one again failed delivered a bettter world for all. 

When distress befalls man, he supplicates Us. Then, when We grant him a blessing from Us, he says, ‘I was given it by virtue of [my] knowledge.’ Rather it is a test, but most of them do not know (Qur’an, Zumar, v. 50).

Monday, August 24, 2020

Mawlana Sampson, Gender Justice and Public Ethics

The last four months have been challenging for most people on this planet. Apart from trying to understand and respond to an unknown and unpredictable virus, we have become acutely aware of the inequalities of our societies. Every now and then, thanks to social media, this inequality is revealed in one or other particular aspect of social life. 

In the last ten days, a video broadcast by a Mawlana Sampson went viral in the Muslim community of Cape Town and put the spotlight on the dignity of women. 

Announcing his impending second marriage, Mawlana Sampson also called upon others to follow his example. His use of language to describe men and women was offensive, and it was rejected as soon as it hit the social mediascape of the Muslims of the city and the country. Eventually, the Mawlana apologized for his video.

But his language revealed a deep flaw that runs through the Muslim community in particular and the South African nation in general. In a country where violence against women has become the norm, the language of Sampson was rightly and quickly rejected. The language seemed to match a pandemic of violence against women in the country through murder, rape and mutilation. 

But not all Muslims agreed with the critics of the video, particularly after Sampson extended an apology.  Many regarded the video as an unfortunate human error that deserved to be forgiven. 

But the issue has raised important issues on ethics and the general response of Muslims on equality and human rights. I would like to reflect on the politics of language and ethics provoked by the Sampson video.

Sampson's video clip is more than a straight-forward expression of a patriarchal world. It is also a form of resistance or turning away from a dominant world that has promised equality and rights, but which has been denied to most people in the world. 

When we put up human rights as universal values, we often forget that inequality has been built into the modern system and its rhetoric of rights. Whether we turn to its origins in capitalism or the aftermath of World War II, human rights were born in a world of increasing inequality. As more gains were recorded on statute books, much less was achieved in the actual lives of most people on the planet. For most,  COVID19 has merely revealed a world that becomes more unequal, while appeals for equality and dignity grow louder.

Some suggest that turning to religion is a form of deep resistance to such norms, but others say religious revival turns its back on such norms. The late Saba Mahmood has given a detailed glimpsed of this rhetoric of devotion and commitment in pockets of Muslim communities. If her analysis is valid for Sampson's community, then the video might be a sign of the community turning its back against modernity in general, and the rhetoric of human rights in particular. 

Sampson's appeal for Muslim men to follow the example of the Prophet should not only be placed against the rhetoric of human rights. It should also be placed against an appeal of religious rhetoric in Sampson's mosque community.  

Some have reminded us through social media that Sampson serves his working-class community with commitment and devotion. If this video clip is more than a passing byte, what do his images and words mean in his context? And more importantly, what does polygyny mean for his listeners, both men and women? 

If this analysis is correct, we should take another look at the world of devotion and commitment. It is not sufficient to invoke the rhetoric of rights against a community, but see how Sampson and others like him offer an alternative vision and values. I do not know Sampson's context in greater detail to make further comments. 

However, I would like to make some comments on the support for polygyny in Muslim discourse. Polygyny is presented as an unassailable good for Muslim societies. Sometimes, it is justified by the fact that polygyny serves some social contexts. In a time of war when men die in greater numbers than women, for example, polygyny is a better alternative for society. Some of these justifications have emerged in social media since Sampson's video went viral. I want to question these justifications on two levels.

I do not want to contest the fact that polygyny is acceptable in the Qurán and the practice of the Prophet. But rather than arguing for the limits placed on its practice by jurists and modern intellectuals, I would like to suggest that it is hardly presented in the Qurán as an unmitigated good. The Qurán presents various scenarios where the family of the Prophet Muhammad, particularly with regard to the relationship with his wives, was wracked by tension and hostility. The presentation of a polygynous family in the Qurán is anything but an idyllic household. In many cases, it was only a revelation from God that saved the day.

In contrast to the Qur'anic narrative, polygyny is presented in Sampson's video and modern Muslim discourse in a very different way. Polygyny is embraced as a distinctive and meritorious value for Muslims. It is better, Muslim apologists claim than the nuclear family promoted in modern discourse. In this counter-modern discourse, a polygynous family is celebrated as an unmitigated good. And this is not what I see in the Qurán.

My second point is related to my experience of reactions among Muslims to polygyny on a personal level. What do Muslims do when they are not defending polygyny as a greater good in public debate? In my experience, whenever a man in a family decides to take on a second wife, that decision is received with anger, rejection and great disappointment.  Apart from the woman who must share her husband, other women generally reject the apparent desire of the man to do good. Close friends and family reject the practice for what it means to the dignity of the first wife. 

These comments might seem anecdotal from my experience, but they reflect a contradiction between public support for polygyny and its experience at a personal level. It seems to me that from the time of the Prophet to the present, Muslims know that the practice of polygyny harms the dignity of women. Public debate obscures this awareness.

Sampson's video has raised two sets of questions. Firstly, it has posed questions on how the rhetoric of human rights works in communities that live with poverty, inequality and lack of dignity. How is the turn to religion to be interpreted against the contradictions of a human rights ethics, and actually existing inequalities. We need to bring a greater awareness of this in our public deliberation.

Secondly, the video has also raised critical questions about the justification of polygyny as an unmitigated value. From a practice which is put under surveillance, polygyny is promoted as an unmitigated good. More importantly, public discourse of both Sampson and his supporters ignore the deep attack on the dignity of women of which they are not unaware. 


Works Cited 

Mahmood, Saba. “Feminist Theory, Embodiment, and the Docile Agent: Some Reflections on the Egyptian Islamic Revival.” Cultural Anthropology 16, no. 2 (2001): 202–36.



Mahmood, Saba. Politics of Piety: The Islamic Revival and the Feminist Subject. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005.


Saturday, July 4, 2020

Covid-19 and Religion: Cosmologies of Islam and Science (Part 1)


I recently received a WhatsApp message that claimed that Muslims are disproportionately represented in COVID-19 fatalities in two provinces in South Africa. I have not been able to establish its veracity, but I have heard there are a multiplicity of views among religious people on how to respond to the COVID-19 pandemic. Such views are confusing for some, and I have been asked to offer my view on this. 
Since the lockdown in South Africa, I have been collecting statements on religious responses in South Africa. In this first part of this two-part blog, I would like to share this random collection of Muslim responses. This is far from exhaustive, but I have identified a familiar pattern that I can share. 


In this first blog, I will offer my usual approach to Muslim discourse. This is a method that I have used over the years, focusing closely on how Muslim discourse on an issue takes shape. Whether this is apartheid, democracy, or radicalization, a language game clearly emerges. The discourse is deeply contextual, but it is informed by a long history of religious values, practices and ethics. I might even say that there is one discourse that is easily understood and engaged with by its interlocutors. This discourse does not mean that there is one Islam, but neither does it suggest multiple Islams. At the same time, the discourse may be seen to confront or respond to new developments in religion, politics, values and technology. So, my approach lies in starting with the discourse and its response, rather than beginning with the new and working backwards.

The discourse on COVID-19 is marked by a sharp debate that is by definition unresolvable. Participants in the discourse make a claim to truth, some with more confidence and vehemence than others. But the discourse is fundamentally diverse, divisive and multiple. There is a beautiful Hadith that captures this feature: “The difference of opinion in my community is a sign of compassion.” Not all Muslims treat their opponents with compassion, but most accept this diversity in theory.

This discourse on COVID-19 includes discussion on the virus, its nature and history. It includes questions about how to respond to government regulations. Apart from the act of staying at home, the Muslim discourse turns specifically around how to pray and where? Each of these terms (virus, state and prayer) pivot the discourse in a different direction. Central questions and positions are shaped around them. They also show that older questions are addressed and reformulated.  

Religious leaders, through their organizations and mosques, say that the pandemic is the will of God, but they also advise Muslims to take the necessary precautions and to focus on their sinful behaviour. In particular, they accept that daily prayer should be performed at home. Regular attendance at mosques for men is a central practice in South Africa. This accommodation, especially for Friday prayers, shows the extent to which the religious scholars in South Africa have accepted the main pillar of the lockdown. There was one special appeal to President Ramaphosa to allow Muslims to celebrate the end of Ramadan. But it hardly received any support among Muslims. 

Closely tied to this assent is a general emphasis from these religious leaders to urge Muslims to turn to God in supplication (du’a) and increasing charity. The focus on supplication asks Muslims to repent for their sins, to develop a better relationship with God. The pandemic is seen as an opportunity for refocussing on personal piety, on deep introspection. 

Sometimes, when I think that a WhatsApp group is focussed exclusively on prayer and supplication, I notice a call for charity follows. Charity is extended to all. And it is also not so exclusively connected with the object of mission (daʿwa). Both these features have been central to charity. Charity in Islam is divided into kinds, some are exclusively set aside for Muslims. And charity is also seen as a way of extending the faith. I have not seen an emphasis on either in the various statements sent around social media during this time. Of course, these observations need to be tested with more data.

But there are smaller groups who argue that the general Muslim establishment has not recognized the full challenge of the pandemic. In an early statement, the former premier of the Western Cape pointed to the still insular and "survivalist" preoccupation of the Muslim response, and its rejection of scientific evidence. By focussing only on Muslims and denying the evidence of science, Ebrahim Rasool argued that Muslim responses seem very much like Trump. Islam, in his view, was rather a religion of mercy and science. Muslims should turn outwards, not inwards in this difficult time.

Others have followed these critical remarks with different nuances. The closure of mosques, according to some, has exposed the continued marginalization of women and the poor in the communities. When a group brought a court order to argue that going to a mosque was unconditional for Muslims, their views could not justify why women were systematically excluded in many mosques. Others have pointed to the deep inequalities that have been exposed by the virus, which is unacceptable to general Islamic norms and values. In this strand of the discourse, the virus offers an opportunity to revisit old values and paradigms of thinking and acting among Muslims.

But there is a strand in the discourse that has challenged all the other positions. It is represented by a group of religious scholars across the country who seem to want to establish themselves as the representatives of a "pristine" Islam. They seem to offer an alternative position to the "mainline" religious leadership, clearly wishing to replace them. They heap scorn on the closure of the mosques and the scientific analysis of the virus.

It also believes that the pandemic is the will of God. Based on a prophetic Hadith, however, it goes further that there is not such a thing as an infection. Also based on a hadith, Muslims should stay in one place during a pandemic. But there is no provision in the religious literature, it claims, for staying away from mosques, limiting the number of males attending, or keeping a social distance inside. It asks Muslims to stay away from mosques that keep to such regulations. It promises that the punishment of God will soon descend upon society, especially when the mosques are empty. Again, this is supported by a Prophetic hadith. 

When one ignores the incendiary language, this is a consistent argument. Interestingly, when we turn to what it shows (what a Muslim has to do), this statement supports staying away from mosques. It asks Muslims not to attend mosques which adhere to social distancing. Unexpectedly, but based on different reasoning, it complies with government regulations even while it fulminates against other Muslims. This compliance, of course, comes when Muslims are not compliant with its recommendations. So, it thrives on contradiction. 
   
But taking another look, this strand represents a worldview that focusses on the will of God, and several prophetic statements and juridical arguments on how to behave. Even though promoted by a minority, it forces other Muslims to respond to its views in one form or other. So the Islamic Medical Association's statement on the pandemic is that the will of God works "through an apparent cause and effect." Similarly, critical Muslims point to its lack of attention to the values of Islam. They point to its rejection of scientific evidence, and its lack of attention to the needs of the greater society.

The minority position plays thus an important role in the discourse, even though its main role seems to be a counter-point of what Muslims are really doing and thinking. Does this mean that this is the ideal Muslim position, against which real values and practices are negotiated? Scholars of religion would support this argument. For some like Jonathan Z. Smith, a ritual presents an ideal for society, but society flouts it. I do not agree with this model of ritual, but I will pick up this in my second blog. I do think though that what this group says cannot be avoided by most Muslims today. 

For now, I have hopefully shown that in the last few months, a discourse on COVID-19 has emerged among Muslims. This is a discourse shaped by Muslim actors across the board. I have used some social media exchanges to point to its main strands. There are dominant and marginal strands, but they form a debate on values and practices about the virus (science), the state (society and politics) and prayer (religion).  

I would conclude that the main questions are not resolvable. But they show us how religious responses engage the present crisis. The crisis cannot be left alone - it forces everyone to respond. What we see from the discourse is the attempt by some to gain a position against others. This conflict is endemic to religion, as it is to other spheres of life. Religion discourse points to existing views that dominate or that trouble society. These include the value and role of science, relations with a state, neighbours or the world. The discourse points to the value of others, particularly the most vulnerable and weak. And through its reflection on prayer, it also points to the individual's vulnerability at a deep and personal level.  The discourse shows that religious views are continually assailed by new developments.