In Islamic societies, religion, rather than language and ethnicity, has typically defined political, social, and personal identity. Obviously, Muslims have always been aware of linguistic, ethnic, and territorial divisions, but, through much of Islamic history, these have seemed relatively unimportant to them. Their formative past and spiritual ancestry were to be found in the line of prophets and believers chronicled in the Qur˒an, prominently including the prophet Muhammad and his companions, rather than, depending upon where they lived, among the related but spiritually foreign peoples of, say, pharaonic Egypt, or polytheistic Babylonia.
Although the situation has become more complex during the past two centuries, Muslims have traditionally been integrated by their common identity as followers of Muhammad and the Qur˒an, and, secondarily, by their allegiance to dynastic rulers (caliphs and sultans). At least in theory (but very often in fact), Muslims of entirely distinct tongues and genealogies have recognized one another as brothers, yet reject as aliens compatriots who, while sharing both dialect and ancestry, differ in religious affiliation. In recent years, certain unfortunate consequences of these attitudes—generally reciprocated with at least equal fervor by the non-Muslims involved—have been strikingly illustrated in the Balkans and elsewhere.
Before residents of the region adopted such nineteenth- and early twentieth-century terms as Middle East and Near East, no equivalent vocabulary, and, hence, no unifying concept of shared geographical identity, seems to have existed in the area. Until modern times, the Turkish language had no word for Turkey; the word used today to designate the nation-state originated in Europe. Arabic still lacks a word for Arabia. On the other hand, such distinctions as that between the dar al-islam (the "abode of Islam" or "of submission [to God]") and the counterpoised dar al-harb ("the abode of strife" or "of war") were readily available and far more salient.
It must be understood that religion in the areas dominated by Islam has commonly included rather more than a mere system of belief and worship, distinct from and possibly subordinated to national and political allegiances. Those of Muslim background often retain a shared communal identity even in instances where Islamic faith and practice have been abandoned.
Initially, the fact that the Qur˒an had been revealed in Arabic, while obviously useful to its first hearers, was not enough to forge a unique identity. After all, its entire original audience, both believers and unbelievers, were Arabic-speakers. With the spread of Islam westward to Iberia and eastward to India, however, the Qur˒an's Arabic character (emphasized in the book itself at 12:2; 13:37; 16:103; 20:113; 26:195; 39:28; 41:3; 42:7; 43:3; 46:12) marked the Arabs as a favored nation whose ethnic identity was intimately connected with the identity most of them shared as Muslims. Arabic came to be the principal language of a vast civilization that, although it included considerable numbers of non-Muslims who enjoyed the status of protected dhimmis, had been formed and shaped by Arab-Islamic sensibilities. In this were sown the seeds of later Arabic nationalism.
From the start, there also existed a sense of distinct Islamic peoplehood that went beyond ethnicity. It was compounded of both genuine reality and idealistic aspiration. "Let there be from among you," says the Qur˒an, "an umma summoning to good and forbidding evil" (3:104; compare 3:110, also 2:143). The term umma is used several times in the Qur˒an to refer to ordinary ethnic groupings, both past and present. In certain passages, however, it plainly characterizes the body of Muslim believers as a new kind of supertribe, transcending family, clan, and ethnic affiliation. "This your umma is one umma," says the Qur˒an (21:92).
Even in the days of the Prophet and his immediate successors, however, old tribal and other affiliations proved resilient, as appears in early tensions between the muhajirun—the "emigrants" who, like Muhammad himself, had sought refuge in Medina—and the ansar or "helpers" who took them in. Long-standing tribal rivalries continued to be a factor in the early days of the Arab conquests. And even as Arabian tribal divisions decreased in importance, other ethnic rivalries—such as those between Arabs and non-Arabs (particularly Persians)—came to the fore in such movements as the socalled shu˓ubiyya. Moreover, the question of precisely what constituted a believer, and what caused one to forfeit that status, was a matter of significant controversy in the first period of Islamic thought.
The survival and even flourishing of non-Muslims within areas of Islamic rule also helped adherents of Islam to refine and sharpen their own sense of identity. Central to this was the Qur˒anic Arabic term milla (Turkish millet). In the Qur˒an, the word milla is essentially equivalent to religion, and it came, with the passage of time, to signify a religious community, especially the Islamic community. Opposed to the community of Muslims, according to a popular tradition rather dubiously ascribed to the prophet Muhammad, was the community of unbelievers—undifferentiated because their differences, like those among believers, were unimportant: "Unbelief is one milla," the Prophet is reported to have said. Nonetheless, by the time of the Ottomans in the fourteenth century, the term millet also signified non-Muslim communities, legally recognized to be plural and varied.
From at least the fifteenth century, Muslim rulers (particularly among the Ottomans) managed religious diversity in their domains through a system based on the millets. A quite complex structure of semiautonomous communities whose religious leaders had formal relations with their Muslim overlords promoted peaceful coexistence and minority representation at court. In the nineteenth century, however, under the influence of European nationalism and with grave implications for traditional arrangements, millet came to mean "nation" as well as "religious community."
The Ottoman Empire and Its Immediate Aftermath
In its classic Ottoman form, the millet system dates from the reign of Mehmed II (r. 1451–1481), and endured until the nineteenth century. By the end of Mehmed's reign, Orthodox Christian, Armenian Christian, Jewish, and Muslim millets had been organized. Each was headed by its own highest-ranking religious dignitary (respectively, the Orthodox patriarch, the chief rabbi, the Armenian patriarch, and, for Muslims, the Shaykh al-Islam). Once chosen by their respective communities, these officials were confirmed into office (or, occasionally, rejected) by the Ottoman government. Millets decided on issues related to religious doctrine and practice and questions of personal status (e.g., marriage, divorce, and inheritance).
However, Ottoman sultans understood themselves, first and foremost, as Muslim emperors ruling an Islamic empire. Subsequent Ottoman monarchs accordingly sought to transcend their dynasty's origin as a line of successful war lords and border skirmishers—so frankly expressed in the title sultan itself, which is derived from the Arabic word sulta, meaning "power"—and to claim religious sanction for their rule. This is evident in the treaty of Kucuk-Kaynarca (1774), in which, for the first time, the sultanate asserted extraterritorial religious jurisdiction over non-Ottoman Muslims. A few years later, the story appeared that the last Abassid caliph had transferred the caliphate—the right to universal Islamic rule as legal heir of the prophet Muhammad—to Selim I upon the Ottoman conquest of Egypt in 1517. While the claim had relatively little practical impact beyond the effective borders of Ottoman political power, it reinforced the sultan's claim to authority based on the religious identity and self-understanding of the majority of his subjects.
Vocal claims to Islamic authority, however, carried no weight with the sultan's non-Muslim subjects, and, indeed, probably tended to alienate them. Thus, as the empire weakened and Western influences (including legal and commercial privileges granted to European powers) increased in Ottoman lands, nationalist sentiments arose among the empire's Christian minorities, who had a natural kinship to the Christian West and were understandably more susceptible to its influence. These new nationalist ideas were introduced to populations lacking any prior experience of secularism, or of a separation between religion and politics. Minority nationalisms therefore came to be expressed religiously, within the context of the already existing millet system.
In partial reaction, the Ottoman government attempted to establish "Ottomanism" as the legal basis of the empire as reflected, for example, in the law of nationality and citizenship promulgated in 1869 and the Constitution of 1876. The related concept of hubb al-vatan, "love of country" or patriotism, had already appeared in Turkish by 1841. Thinkers connected with the Young Ottoman movement (formed in 1865) were promoting the "fatherland" (vatan; Arabic watan) and the Ottoman "nation." Ottomanism, however, was somewhat ambivalent with regard to the weight to be placed upon Islamic faith as component in individual, societal, and political identity. The new constitution also included a formal declaration that the "high Islamic caliphate" belonged to the Ottoman ruling house, thus staking a claim to universal Muslim authority. And the writings of Namik Kemal, the Young Ottomans's intellectual leader, show interest neither in the history of Anatolia prior to the arrival of the Muslim Turks nor in the history of the Turks before their conversion. In fact, he seldom uses the word Turk at all. Instead, he emphasizes the term Ottoman, which, although it sometimes designates all of the sultan's subjects, of whatever religion, often denotes only the sultan's Muslim subjects.
Ottomanism was, in fact, incoherent, torn between particularistic loyalty to the multiethnic, multi-faith empire as it was and a dream of Muslim unity similar to that which motivated the famous pan-Islamic activist, Jamal al-Din Afghani (d. 1897). Of course, despite his own public piety, Afghani himself seems to have been a natural-law deist and rationalist, and to have valued Islam primarily as a civilization rather than as a religious faith. Clearly indicating that he recognized its power as a political force, however, he insisted on orthodox Islam for the masses.
Ottomanist ambivalence did not escape the non-Muslim minorities. Understanding that they were not, and could not be, incorporated into the empire as full equals, sharing a common culture, they realized that they could not truly be Ottoman patriots in the same sense that English, Spanish, or French patriots were loyal to a country and a unified nation-state. In contrast, the separatist ethnic nationalism that had already arisen in the polyglot empires and small principalities of eastern and central Europe was fully available to them. Thus, when in 1875 the Ottoman treasury declared insolvency, nationalist revolts broke out among the Christians of the Balkans, leading to bloody ethnic and religious confrontations. Responding, the European powers pressured Ottoman leadership to grant autonomy to Christians. And, in fact, the short-lived legislative assembly established by the Constitution of 1876 included deputies from all the peoples of the empire.
A disastrous war with Russia nearly ended the Ottoman state in 1877, and the difficult negotiations that ensued continued until 1882. Ultimately, the Ottomans surrendered large territories to Russia, the Balkan states, and other powers. These territorial losses, which cost the sultan many of his Christian subjects and precipitated a substantial migration of Muslims from Russia and the Balkans into the remaining Ottoman lands, left the empire overwhelmingly Muslim. Seen by many Muslims as an episode in the battle between the dar al-islam and the dar al-harb, the crisis inflamed religious sentiments and, by the century's end, inspired a yet more insistent Muslim nationalism—before which the ambivalent and never very popular "Ottomanism" quickly gave way.
Attempting to cope, ˓Abd al-Hamid II (r. 1876–1909) concentrated government investments and reforms in the predominantly Muslim parts of the empire. He emphasized Islam as a basis of internal social and political stability and solidarity, further stressing his authority not merely as sultan but also as caliph in a bid to simultaneously neutralize opposition from the varied Muslim ethnicities within his dominions and to mobilize support, when needed, among Muslims beyond his borders. Although he affirmed the principle of legal equality for minority religions, he felt that Muslims were the only truly loyal Ottoman subjects. For this reason, pan-Islamists like Afghani regarded ˓Abdulhamid as a symbol of Islamic solidarity and cohesion.
By the opening of the twentieth century, however, nationalistic movements in and about the Ottoman empire had destroyed more than the idea of political unity among Muslims, Christians, and others. With the imperial regime in Istanbul looking increasingly helpless both domestically and in foreign affairs, separate nationalist movements arose even among Muslims—which severely undermined ˓Abdulhamid II's appeal to Islamic solidarity. As various non-Turkic peoples sought to dissolve their ties to the sultanate and to forge their own destiny, Ottoman intellectuals became aware of the pre-Islamic history of the Turks. Partially on that basis, they created a distinctively Turkish nationalism. At the same time, centralizing, industrialized European nation-states—foreign to the reality in which they found themselves—became the ideal among the Ottoman elite. Consequently, when the Young Turk revolution occurred in 1908, it was strongly pro-Turkic, devoted to a centralizing and secularizing vision.
Mustafa Kemal Ataturk's famous and more lastingly significant political involvement began in terms of Ottomanism, and, early on, he tended to speak in pan-Islamic terms. His conversion to Turkish nationalism was accelerated by the disastrous 1912–1913 Balkan War, but, although he is associated with secularism, there is no evidence that he ever sought to attack Islam. Ataturk's notable successes garnered immense prestige for the secular nationalism he came to espouse, which has assured its dominant role in Turkey into the twenty-first century.
Among the Arabs
The Young Ottoman thinker Namik Kemal argued that separatist movements would not arise among the empire's diverse ethnic groups because they were too intermingled to be able to form viable states. The only possible exception to this, he felt, was the Arab community. However, he reasoned, Arabs were bound to the Ottoman state not only by their loyalty to the sultan but by their sense of Islamic brotherhood with the empire. And, in fact, Afghani's great Egyptian disciple, Muhammad ˓Abduh (d. 1905) opposed local patriotism or nationalism as a threat to Islamic unity. Race and nation, in his view, were unimportant accidents, irrelevant to one's fundamental identity as a member of the Islamic umma.
Kemal was wrong. Arab nationalism—the idea that Arabic speakers form a single nation with legitimate aspirations to separate statehood—seems to have been born among the Christian Arab elite of Lebanon, perhaps under the influence of their European fellow believers. They, of course, felt no religious loyalty to the sultan, but deeply prized the language and culture they shared with their Muslim fellow-Arabs. In 1860, the Christian journalist Butrus al-Bustani founded "The Patriotic School" (al-madrasa al-wataniyya); by 1870, the motto "love of country is part of the faith" appeared on the masthead of the magazine he edited. The watan of which he spoke, however, was not the Ottoman empire. His "country" was Syria, an Arabic-speaking land.
Graduates of newly founded schools in Syria and Iraq were likewise infected with nationalism and political consciousness, but their pride, too, was in Arabic language and Arabic history. They called first for decentralization, then independence. The Arab revolt of 1916 resulted in the eventual creation of at least nominally independent states in Syria, Iraq, Lebanon, and Jordan after the interwar British and French mandates ended. These were constructed essentially on the European model that had been invoked previously by the Young Turks.
Local patriotism did appear in Egypt, somewhat later than in Turkey, largely under the influence of Shaykh Rifa˓a Rafi˓ al-Tahtawi (d. 1873). In numerous odes and poems, al-Tahtawi, also fond of the formula "love of country is part of the faith," praised Egypt, the Egyptian army and its soldiers, and the then-ruling dynasty of the Khedives. While his works evince little or no interest in other Muslims or Arab speakers beyond Egypt, the history and legacy of the pharaohs clearly fascinated him. They also served the complexly pan-Islamic purposes of Afghani, who praised the glories of pagan Egypt (as well as the ancient polytheistic Hindus) in polemics composed, unlike those of Kemal and the Young Ottomans, in Arabic.
For their part, the khedives encouraged and even sponsored this new patriotism, since the cultivation of a distinctive Egyptian identity and personality so obviously furthered their own separatist ambitions, and the "National" or "Patriotic Party" (al-hizb al-watani) was founded in 1879. It cannot be maintained that the new Egyptian patriotism was wholly secular—for most of its advocates, Islam was an essential part of Egyptian identity—but it grounded a movement that even non-Muslim Egyptians felt they could join. Thus, even prior to British occupation in 1882, the Christian journalist Selim Naqqash coined the slogan "Egypt for the Egyptians," which was then popularized by the Jewish pamphleteer Abu Naddara and put into practical action by the Muslim soldier ˓Urabi Pasha. But the Syrian intellectuals and others who had taken refuge in the relatively open society of Egypt were often marginalized as "intruders" (dukhala) by prominent Egyptian patriots.
Significantly, it was chiefly Syrian immigrants who brought the idea of political Arabism to Khedivial Egypt. Prominent among these were ˓Abd al-Rahman al-Kawakibi (d. 1902), who was perhaps the first to demand an Arab state headed by an Arab caliph independent of Ottoman Turkish rule, and Muhammad Rashid Rida (d. 1935). On the whole, however, Egypt proved resistant to pan-Arabism, although that ideology played a substantial role during the presidency of Jamal ˓Abd al-Nasser (under whom, for a time during and after his abortive merger with Syria, the venerable name Egypt was officially sacrificed in order to build a "United Arab Republic").
˓Abd al-Hamid II's imperial pan-Islamism thus proved entirely unsuccessful. And, eventually, with the abolition of the sultanate in 1922 and of the caliphate in 1924, the last effective, legitimate political symbol of collective pan-Islamic identity disappeared. Former Ottoman Muslims found themselves residing in a disunited variety of nation-states, much as their descendants do today.
The Mogul Empire
Founded in 1526 and lasting until the mid-eighteenth century, the Mogul empire ultimately dominated the entire Indian subcontinent excepting the south. Yet the existence of a vast, subjugated population of Hindus had always posed a problem for India's Muslim rulers, and continued to do so under the Moguls.
Acutely aware of the problem, Akbar (r. 1556–1605), arguably the greatest of the Mogul emperors, chose a radical method of dealing with it. He integrated Hindus into all levels of imperial administration, married Rajput princesses, and abolished the jizya tax on non-Muslims. Worse, in the eyes of many devout Muslims, he began to experiment with an eclectic blend of Islamic and Hindu concepts. Akbar's actions, in their view, represented a serious threat not only to the Islamic identity of Muslim India but to Islam itself.
The most significant opposition to Akbar's syncretistic liberalism emerged out of the Naqshbandi Sufi brotherhood. This helped to foster a religious revival among Indian Muslims in the face not only of the emperor's heresies and the resurgence of local Hinduism, but, as time passed, in opposition to Portuguese, Dutch, English, and French incursions into India. Ahmad Sirhindi (d. 1624), an Indian Sufi who powerfully influenced the development of the Naqshbandi order, is often considered by Muslim admirers to have saved Indian Islam.
Certainly Sirhindi represented a challenge to Mogul authority. Accordingly, a subsequent emperor, Awrangzib (r. 1658–1707), banned portions of his writing. But as Naqshbandi-inspired Islamic opposition grew, and amid spreading Hindu and Sikh restiveness that many Muslims attributed to Mogul laxity, Awrangzib also found himself obliged to dismiss non-Muslims from government service and to replace them with Muslims. Furthermore, under pressure from the orthodox ulema, he ordered the restoration of the jizya tax and reimposed shari˓a (Islamic law).
But Naqshbandi revivalism was by no means limited to the Indian subcontinent. As early as 1603, Naqshbandi emissaries had entered the Arabic lands, and, soon thereafter, texts of the order were being translated from Persian into Arabic. The important Naqshbandi figure Shah Waliullah of Delhi (d. 1765), in fact, sometimes composed his works in Arabic, probably in an effort to address a much wider Islamic public.
Mogul power had virtually disappeared by the mid-eighteenth century, and the British deposed the last emperor in 1858. Many Muslims, however, feared that their loss of political power would also result in Islamic cultural and religious losses. Accordingly, figures such as Sir Sayyid Ahmad Khan, while still maintaining loyalty to British rule and admiration for English culture, insisted on a separate political identity for Indian Muslims. Similarly, educational movements such as the Deobandis sought to cultivate and preserve Muslim traditions. More dramatically, Sayyid Ahmad Barelwi emerged from circles close to the family of Shah Waliullah to lead a jihad in northwestern India, seeking to restore Muslim political rule in that region. His followers persisted in the attempt for roughly thirty years after his death in battle in 1831.
The concept of a sovereign Islamic political domain was kept alive by various figures over the intervening years. In 1906, the All-India Muslim League was established as a counterweight to the Hindu-dominated Indian National Congress. Eventually, Muhammad ˓Ali Jinnah (d. 1948), arguing that both Islam and Hinduism were comprehensive social orders that could not be merged into a single nationality, concluded that the religious, political, and cultural interests of Muslims could be safeguarded fully only in a separate Muslim state. Interestingly, the Deobandi ulema overwhelmingly opposed Jinnah and his proposed separate state, presumably because his vision for Pakistan—and that of the poet-philosopher Muhammad Iqbal (d. 1938)—was insufficiently grounded in strict observance of the shari˓a. Nonetheless, Pakistan came into existence on 14 August 1947, following the independence and partition of British India, and is now the world's second most populous Muslim nation. Uniquely among Islamic countries, it was expressly established in the name of Islam. More than a hundred million adherents of Islam continue to live in India, however, making it roughly equal to Pakistan (and thus one of the largest of all nations) in terms of Muslim population.
Iran, the ancient Persia, resembled Egypt in possessing a long and distinguished history and relatively clearly demarked borders. Its people spoke a distinct language that was deeply rooted in antiquity. Perhaps most importantly, it was distinguished from the Sunni Ottomans to the west and the Sunni Uzbeks and Moguls to the east by the Shi˓ite form of Islam that it had adopted after the founding of the Safavid dynasty in 1501. When the Shi˓ite Safavids assumed power, Iran was mostly Sunni, but descendants of ˓Ali enjoyed prestige and privileged status among ordinary people. The Safavids themselves were originally Turkic speaking, possibly even of Kurdish extraction, so Persian nationalism as such was not acceptable to them as a basis for fostering unity within their domain and between themselves and their subjects. A national transition from Sunni to Shi˓ism suggested itself to them, therefore, as both desirable and reasonably easy, and, thus, within the first century of Safavid rule, an orthodox form of Twelver Shi˓ism was established as the state religion.
In the sixteenth century Iran was already far along the path to becoming what we would today recognize as a national state. There has been relatively little tension between Iranian patriotism and Islamism as foci of national identity, since the two are so closely related. Despite strong interest in Persia's ancient past (as reflected, for example, in Firdawsi's epic tale, Shahnameh) and with some fluctuations of emphasis, Islam has maintained its primacy in Iranian self-identification. The constitutional revolution of 1906 gave a considerable boost to the Iranian national identity and to patriotism, and the modernization of the state under the Pahlevis (r. 1921–1979) went hand in hand with the enhancement of Iranian national identity in modern schools. The late shah, like his father before him, launched a campaign to glorify pre-Islamic Iran. Leaders of the Islamic Revolution denounced the effort as a return to paganism and even spoke of destroying the ruins of Persepolis (as, more recently, the Afghan Taliban obliterated the Buddhas of Bamiyan). But an unmistakably Iranian patriotism thrives even amid the explicitly religious rhetoric favored by leaders of the Islamic Republic.
The Persistence of Islamic Identity
Through the ideological turbulence of the past two centuries, the fundamental self-understanding of Muslims as Muslims remained intact, though sometimes tacit. The first Arab rebellion against Ottoman Turkish rule came with the rise of Wahhabiyya in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and its attempt to repair, Islamically, what it perceived as serious defects in Muslim society. Although that irruption was contained and reversed, Wahhabiyya again came to power, this time more lastingly, with the Saudi conquest of the holy cities of Mecca and Medina in 1925. The discovery of Arabian petroleum in the 1930s has made advocates of this brand of militantly Islamic self-identification both wealthy and influential.
Resistance to European imperialism has been most effectively captained, in many instances, not by political or military officials but by popular religious figures. For example, Ahmad Brelwi, who was both an initiate of the Naqshbandi order and a Wahhabi, led armed resistance between 1826 and 1831 both to perceived encroachments of the Sikhs and to the rising menace of British power in northern India. Slightly later, from 1830 to 1859, Shamil of Daghistan, another Naqshbandi, led similar resistance against the infidel Russians, and, between 1832 and 1847, ˓Abd al-Qadir, a chief of the Qadiriyya dervish order, fought the infidel French in North Africa. Likewise, the struggle of the Sanusi order in Libya against the Ottomans and, later, the Italians, and the revolt of the Sudanese Mahdi, were explicitly conducted in the name of Islam, not local patriotism.
The Young Turk revolution faced a short-lived mutiny in 1909, when members of a pan-Islamic group calling itself the "Muhammadan Union" joined with the First Army Corps to demand imposition of the shari˓a. Later, the Young Turks themselves flirted with pan-Islamism (at least for propaganda purposes) with Enver Pasha's 1918 launch of the "Army of Islam," designed to liberate the Muslims of Russia. The previous year, the grand wazir Mehmed Said Halim Pasha had delivered a classic statement of pan-Islamic belief, declaring that "the fatherland of a Muslim is wherever the shari˓a prevails." Even the communists, jockeying for power in the months after the fall of the Ottoman empire, found themselves constrained to invoke Islamic solidarity rather than class struggle.
The Muslim masses have continued to see the chief threat to them not in foreigners but in infidels. (That the two were often identical obscures but does not remove the distinction.) When, for example, on 2 November 1945, Egypt's political leaders invited protests to mark the anniversary of the Balfour Declaration, resulting demonstrations turned into anti-Jewish riots and then into attacks on Catholic, Armenian, and Greek Orthodox churches. In January 1952, anti-British demonstrators in Suez, angry at the British, killed several Coptic Christians—arguably Egypt's most Egyptian residents—and looted and burned a Coptic church. Meanwhile, many hundreds of miles away, the Algerian response to the French slogan of "Algérie française" was neither "Algérie arabe" nor "Algérie algérienne," but "Algérie musulmane" ("Muslim Algeria"). During the Lebanese civil war, when civil government lost effective authority over the country, residents reverted to their essential identities as Maronite Christians, Druze, and Sunni and Shi˓ite Muslims.
See also˓Abd al-Qadir, Amir ; ˓Abduh, Muhammad ; Afghani, Jamal al-Din ; Ataturk, Mustafa Kemal ; Balkans, Islam in the ; Dar al-Harb ; Dar al-Islam ; Ethnicity ; Kemal, Namik ; Pan-Islam ; Secularization ; Shaykh al-Islam ; Umma ; Wahhabiyya ; Young Ottomans ; Young Turks .
Dawn, C. Ernest. From Ottomanism to Arabism: Essays on the Origins of Arab Nationalism. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1973.
Keddie, Nikki R. An Islamic Response to Imperialism: Political and Religious Writings of Sayyid Jamal ad-Din "al-Afghani." Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983.
Lewis, Bernard. The Emergence of Modern Turkey. 3d ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002.
Schimmel, Annemarie. Islam in the Indian Subcontinent. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1980.
Shaw, Stanford J., and Shaw, Ezel Kural. The History of the Ottoman Empire and Modern Turkey, Vol. 2: Reform, Revolution, and Republic: The Rise of Modern Turkey, 1808–1975. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1977.
Daniel C. Peterson