The Ethics of War According to Ali
Muhammad Ali being conferred the Honorary Degree of “Doctor of Laws” at Columbia University’s 245th Commencement in 1999. Princeton University also awarded him the Honorary Degree of “Doctor of Humanities” in 2007.
No, I don’t mean the late American boxing icon, Muhammad Ali (d. 2016). But the ethics I am about to describe are apparently in line with what he would have subscribed to. While the name “Ali” may readily conjure the image of the heavyweight champion boxer to many Americans, for many others in the United States and across the globe the personality that comes to mind is the Ali (d. 661) of early Islam.
Ali, or Imam Ali as he is typically titled, was the fourth temporal successor to the Prophet Muhammad (d. 632), according to both Sunni and Shia Muslims today, and the very first Divinely designated vicar of the Prophet Muhammad according to Shia Muslims. (There are details and exceptions based on how labels are defined, but I am trying to avoid being too technical with this post –follow up for more resources). Imam Ali has also been a key personality for Sufi mystical orders, most – if not all – tracing their spiritual chains back to him or one of his descendants.
Volumes upon volumes have been written about him in the various languages of this Blue Planet, so I will not pretend to do justice in introducing him properly here. But one of his lasting legacies is the wisdom with which he dealt with friend and foe alike, passing on what he would describe as the teachings of Prophet Muhammad properly understood, and which can function as an ethics of engagement for humanity even if they do not believe in other aspects of an Islamic worldview.
When Mosul, Iraq fell to ISIS (aka ISIL, Daʿish, or the organization calling itself ‘the Islamic State’), many observers came to realize that the surprise attack would be a game-changer. The prospects appeared grim at first. The capital Baghdad was being threatened and the not-too-distant Shia Muslim shrine cities of Karbala and Najaf were bracing for the unknown. It was from the Friday Prayer pulpit at the final resting place of Imam Husayn (d. 680), the son of Imam Ali, in Karbala, that the announcement was made: the June 13, 2014 fatwa calling for Iraqi defensive jihad against the terrorist incursion.
It was delivered on behalf of the leading religious authority for Shia Muslims in Iraq, one with arguably the largest Shia following worldwide, and revered by many Sunni Muslims: the Grand Ayatollah, (Sayyid) Ali al-Sistani. Al-Sistani’s standing as a leading Ayatollah with such a following among (Shia) Muslims is very much analogous to the standing of the Pope among (Catholic) Christians, albeit there are technical differences (not to be discussed in this brief post). As the masses of Iraqis responded to al-Sistani’s call, the tides of the ISIS rampage turned more quickly than expected by early assessments. What I mean to focus on regarding that historic moment, however, are al-Sistani’s guidelines regarding ethical conduct in battle, which soon followed his call to defensive struggle, and which drew thoroughly upon the teachings associated with Imam Ali.
A particularly significant highlight of these guidelines is the call to avoid inflicting harm on noncombatants, regardless of their religious affiliation, and even if they be the very family members of combatants (see guidelines #5-7). To support his directives, al-Sistani frequently quotes Imam Ali. On one occasion, he describes how Imam Ali experienced visibly intense grief when he received news that women (both Muslim and non-Muslim) at the edges of his dominion in Iraq had been attacked in their private quarters, that the attackers would tear off their anklets, bangles, necklaces, and earrings, that they could not defend themselves against the attackers except by begging for mercy, and that the attackers left unscathed. Commenting on this, Imam Ali is quoted to have said, “If a Muslim dropped dead out of sorrow over this, then he would not be to blame for it, but rather it is worthy of him in my eyes.” (See guideline #7).
I wonder what Imam Ali would have to say about killing thousands of women, children, and other noncombatants, and what the appropriate, empathetic response to that would be. Stop the war. Ceasefire now.
Note: I must caution that even though the guidelines referenced above have been translated into English, additional layers of ‘translation’ in the Arabic version (let alone the English version) are arguably required to contextualize and better relate to some of what has been expressed in the original Arabic so many centuries ago. For such nuances, please consider consulting with a qualified specialist who has been deeply immersed in both the worlds of Middle East cultures as well as contemporary English-speaking communities (at or close enough to a native speaker level). As with all sensitive matters, when in doubt on an issue of consequence, be on the safe side and seek an additional specialized opinion. For your convenience, you can book a consultation with me online here.
Intro to this Blog
I have been considering the pros and cons of focusing this blog on a particular theme or intended readership. With all the merits of specialization, I submit that my academic specialization has me niched enough for the rest of my time on Earth, and that I will be looking forward to this blog as a more diversified avenue of expression. It will still be me, just not always the PhD dissertation mode of me. For that, I beg your pardon, you will have to wait for the occasional academic study I announce here, or read parts of my dissertation (hint to fellow academics, in particular). So you can expect this blog to shed light on the more far-reaching implications of my work as an academic, tailored to a diverse and broad readership, weighing in on current events while also contextualizing and drawing lessons from history. Without further ado, welcome to Ali Moughania’s blog!
