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Islamic Law and Society Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 www.brill.nl/ils Notes on the Anomaly of the Shari‘a Field in Israel* Moussa Abou Ramadan In memory of my father Ismail Abstract A close scrutiny of the Islamic religious field in Israel reveals that those responsible for the application of shari‘a rules (i.e. judges presiding in shari‘a courts), do not possess the “symbolic capital” that is required in order to distinguish them from laymen. Since shari‘a judges in Israel enjoy unprecedented centrality within the Islamic religious field, the field itself is not well-distinguished from the secular legal field. is situation results not only from the fact that persons without proper shari‘a training have been appointed to the office of shari‘a judge (qadi), but also from the fact that the qadis are appointed by a non-Muslim authority and that the shari‘a courts are subordinated to Israeli legislation. I argue that the Islamic religious field in Israel is an anomaly, characterized by lack of autonomy, ambiguous boundaries and lack of competition between actors (due to the monopolization of power by qadis). Keywords qadi, Israeli shari‘a courts, Bourdieu, Islamic religious field, shari‘a education, Muslims in Israel In this essay I describe and explain how the lack of religious autonomy for Muslim citizens of Israel has resulted in a non-Muslim sovereign state appointing judges (qadis) to preside over the shari‘a courts. I further argue that the shari‘a judges have virtually monopolized the shari‘a field in Israel and that, in Bourdieusian terms, Correspondence: Moussa Abou Ramadan, Law Faculty, Haifa University, Mount Carmel, Haifa 31905, Israel. E-mail: moussa@law.haifa.ac.il I wish to thank the ILS editors, Iris Agmon, Ido Shahar, Meny Mautner, and Ashraf Abu Zarka for their comments on earlier drafts of this essay. * © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2008 DOI: 10.1163/156851908X287316 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 85 this field should be defined as an anomalous one. To understand how qadis have gained the authority and legitimacy to interpret sacred religious texts, and thereby have come to dominate the Islamic religious field, it is crucial to explore the state-society relationship in Israel. e Israeli state, as sociologist Pierre Bourdieu would argue, is invested with a kind of metacapital that has the power to distribute resources among the various Muslim constituencies, and thereby to regulate and control power relations between the Jewish polity and the non-Jewish minority.1 Parameters such as mastery of secular or religious legal systems, loyalty to the non-Muslim state and its institutions, social networks and contacts become yardsticks with which the Jewish state monitors and structures the Islamic religious field. e structure and meaning of the Islamic religious field, as I will show, has changed in conjunction with, and in response to, political, social and economic resources, all of which are closely connected to historical relations of power between the non-Muslim sovereign state and its Muslim publics. By employing Bourdieu’s theory as a conceptual framework and by comparing the shari‘a field in contemporary Israel with shari‘a fields in other places and times, I aim to cast light on the unique– indeed anomalous–shari‘a field in Israel, and to draw some general conclusions regarding the characteristics of past and present shari‘a fields. e Islamic Religious Field in Israel: A Historical Survey To better appreciate the lack of religious autonomy of Muslim citizens of Israel, a brief review of the shari‘a field in Palestine during Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of agency offers a suggestive and productive way of conceptualizing the legal status and power of Muslims in Israel. Central to his theory is the notion of agents as human beings who gain power through access to resources of one kind or another in a historically contingent, delineated social field, which is perceived to be part of the natural order of society. Pierre Bourdieu, “Rethinking the State: Genesis and Structure of the Bureaucratic Field,” in State/Culture: e Study of State Formation after the Cultural Turn, ed. George Steinmetz (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999), 53-75; idem, “Génèse et structure du champ religieux,” Revue française de sociologie, 12/3 (1971), 295-334. 1) 86 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 the late Ottoman and British Mandate periods is necessary. roughout the 19th century, Ottoman elites instituted reforms on every aspect of social and political life in the empire, especially the judicial system. e legal reforms considerably weakened the shari‘a courts, which lost much of their jurisdiction to the recently established civil (nizami) courts. Moreover, the centralizing policy undertaken by Ottoman officials considerably limited the autonomy of the local Islamic establishment. Henceforth, the Sheikh al-Islam, the head of the religious administration in Istanbul, was in charge of nominating and appointing muftis, imams, and preachers.2 is bureaucratic structure came to an end with the British occupation of Palestine in 1917. Istanbul no longer served as the religious administrative center, and Palestinian Muslims could no longer appeal to the Sheikh al-Islam about legal matters.3 ose responsibilities, which once devolved on the Ottoman center, were now assumed by the local ‘ ulama’. To appease the Muslim population, the British Mandatory authorities created a new institution, the Supreme Muslim Council (SMC), which administered all Muslim religious institutions in Palestine.4 One of the duties of this council was to appoint shari‘a judges, although each appointment required the approval of the British authorities.5 e SMC soon lost much of its authority, however. In 1937, the British authorities reduced its sphere of action and established a “commission to be composed of a chairman and two members to control and manage the Moslem Awqaf.”6 is new regulation Mahmoud Yazbak, «Nabulsi ‘ ulama’ in the Late Ottoman Period, 1864-1914,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, 29 (1997), 71-91. 3) Proclamations Ordinances and Notices Issued by Occupied Enemy Territory Administration, articles 9, 10 (Aug. 1919), Official Gazette, 1919-1922, 10. 4) Uri M. Kupferschmidt, e Supreme Muslim Council: Islam under the British Mandate for Palestine (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1987). 5) Article 8 (1) of the order establishing the Supreme Muslim Council states that the duties of the Council shall be “To nominate for the approval of the Government, and after such approval to appoint Kadis of the Shari‘a Courts, the President and members of the Shari‘a Court of Appeal, and the Inspectors of Shari‘a Courts. If the Government withholds its approval, it shall signify to the Council within fifteen days the reasons therefore...” See Norman Bentwich, Legislation of Palestine 1918-1925 (Alexandria: Whitehead Morris Limited, 1926), vol. 2, 398. 6) Appointment of Commission under the Defense (Moslem Awqaf ) Regulation, 1937, 2) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 87 transferred control over most of the pious endowments (waqf, pl. awqaf) from the SMC to the British administration. Although its autonomy and powers were significantly curtailed, the SMC continued to constitute an effective religious-communal administration. Following the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, the Muslim religious establishment in Palestine collapsed. Almost all the members of the SMC left Palestine, and the administration of Muslim institutions was in a state of total chaos. Responsibility for Muslim religious affairs was transferred to the newly established Israeli Ministry of Religions. e State of Israel did not nominate another commission to deal with waqf properties. Instead, Israel defined the status of these assets as “absentee properties,” and the Custodian of Absentee Property proceeded to confiscate them. In 1965, a new law allowed the release of certain waqf properties to Muslim trust committees.7 But Israel did not create a unified waqf system; rather, it continued to divide control over waqf properties among various state departments and institutions, and, thereby, to prevent the concentration of power in the hands of a single Muslim institution. Many of these committees were later accused of financial irregularities, and, consequently, lost the trust of the Muslim public.8 As early as 1949, the Ministry of Religious Affairs appointed four judges for the shari‘a courts, respectively, in Jaffa, Nazareth, Tayyibe and Acre. Since there was ambiguity regarding the authority of the Minister of Religious Affairs to appoint shari‘a judges, approval of the Knesset (the Israeli parliament) had to be obtained first.9 Only in 1961 were definite procedures for appointing shari‘a judges enacted Supplement 2 to the Palestine Gazette Extraordinary No.731 of 18th October, 1937, 975. 7) Aharon Layish, “e Muslim Waqf in Israel,” Asian and African Studies 2 (1966), 4176. 8) Michael Dumper, Islam and Israel: Muslim Religious Endowments and the Jewish State (Washington, D.C: Institute for Palestine Studies, 1994), 50-62. e State Comptrollers issued many reports dealing with irregularities in the financial administration of the Waqf Trust Committees. See Report 24, 1972, 190; Report 27, 1975, 170; Report 34, 1983, 73; Report 35, 1984, 496; Report 38, 1987, 83. 9) e State of Israel, Book of Law [hereinafter: BL], Shari‘a courts law (Approval of appointments), 1953, No. 139, 43 (in Hebrew). 88 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 into law.10 is law effectively eliminated the autonomy of the Muslim community in choosing qadis.11 Since February 2001, the shari‘a courts have been under the direct control of the Ministry of Justice, which took over from the Ministry of Religious Affairs.12 e Lack of Religious Autonomy and the Appointment of Qadis A. e Status of Religious Minorities in Israel A close examination of the legal status of the different non-Jewish religious communities in Israel reveals a spectrum of autonomy, ranging from full to partial to none.13 A fully autonomous religious community selects its spiritual leaders and its religious judges without state interference; it determines and legislates internal matters. More often, because of international pressure, the state cannot arbitrarily change the status of the community. In Israel, the Catholic communities enjoy this status.14 Religious communities are only partially autonomous when the state not only has the sole authority to institute substantial organizational changes, but also frequently intervenes in internal decisions. is is the case for both the Greek Orthodox and the Druze communities in Israel.15 us, for example, after the Greek Qadis’ Law 1961, BL No. 339, 118. Ibid. Article 25 of the Qadis’ Law explicitly abolished the order establishing the Supreme Muslim Council of 1921. 12) http://www.knesset.gov.il/Tql//mark01/h0029982.html#TQL (visited on March 2006). 13) Since Israel is defined as a Jewish state, the relationship between the state and the Jewish community is fundamentally different than the relationships between the state and other religious communities. For this reason, I have not included the Jewish community and the issue of the autonomy of the rabbinical courts in this comparison. 14) Moussa Abou Ramadan, “L’accord de 1997 entre Israël et le Saint-Siège: Quelles incidences pour les Palestiniens et le statut de Jérusalem?» Monde arabe Maghreb-Machrek, 161 (1998), 115-26; idem, «La protection de la liberté religieuse des minorités en Israël,» Mediterranean Human Rights Law Journal (2001), 39-80; idem, «Les accords de Mitylène de 1901 et l’agrément de Constantinople de 1913,» in De Bonaparte à Balfour, ed. D. Trimbur et R. Aronsohn (Paris: Édition C.N.R.S ,2001), 57-69. 15) Moussa Abou Ramadan, “La loi applicable à la minorité roum orthodoxe de l’Etat 10) 11) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 89 Orthodox communal institutions elect the new Patriarch, they must receive approval from the government.16 Communities having limited and regulated autonomy are liable to legal problems as a result of the tensions and contradictions between collective and individual rights.17 is situation is exemplified by the numerous litigations in the Israeli courts between members of the Greek Orthodox community and the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate.18 Nevertheless, the heads of the community have ultimate decision-making power over personal status issues within the community. ere are substantial differences between the two semi-autonomous religious communities with regard to control over the religious courts. Whereas the Greek Orthodox community appoints its own judges according to its religious canons, the Druze community appoints the qadi madhhab (Druze religious judge in Israel) according to state law. e head of the Druze Religious Council is an ex-officio member of the appointments committee.19 In theory, this committee has less power to control the appointment of Druze religious judges d’Israël,» Proche Orient chrétien 50 (2000), 105-41. Notably, a Druze qadi who had jurisdiction in matters of personal status of Druze people was appointed by the British Mandate authorities. See Saman Falah and Nissim Dana, «Communitarian Organization in Lebanon, Syria and Eretz Yisrael,» in: e Druzes in the Middle East, ed. Saman Falah, (Jerusalem: Ministry of Defense, 2000), 116-26. It was only in 1957, and under Israeli rule, however, that the Druze community was acknowledged as a distinct religious community See e State of Israel, Compilation of Regulations [hereinafter: CR], “Religious Communities Order (Organization), e Druze community,” CR, 1957, 1280 (in Hebrew). Recently, this status was reaffirmed; see “Religious Communities Order (Organization), e Druze Community,” CR, 1995, 127; “Religious Communities Order (Organization), the Druze Community (Amendment),” CR, 1995, 309; “Religious communities Order (Organization), the Druze Community (Amendment No. 2), CR, 1996, 772. 16) Moussa Abou Ramadan, “La loi applicable”, 113. 17) Recognition of the autonomy of a religious minority is a collective right, since this right is accorded to the community as a whole. See H. Frisch, “State Ethnicization and the Crisis of Leadership Succession among Israel’s Druze,” Ethnic and Racial Studies, 20 (1997), 580-93. 18) See, for example, Itamar Katz and Ruth Kark, “e Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem and its Congregation: Dissent over Real Estate,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, 37 (2005), 509-34. 19) Article 11 of the Law of Druze Religious Courts, 1962, BL No. 383, 20. 90 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 than its Greek Orthodox counterpart, but in practice the Druze community leadership has succeeded in exerting influence on the appointment committee, as all the appointees to the position of qadi madhhab have been Druze religious men. e Muslim community in Israel is characterized by total absence of autonomy. e state has direct control over religious matters. e Muslim section of the Department of Non-Jewish Religions of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, headed by a Jewish Israeli official, is mainly responsible for the appointment of imams and their salaries; members of the Trust committees which deal with Muslim endowments are nominated by the State. Most importantly, the non-Muslim sovereign appoints the qadis. B. e Appointment of Qadis e President of the State is legally responsible for the appointment of shari‘a judges in Israel. Although the nine-member appointment committee includes a majority of Muslim members, the fact that non-Muslims are party to the decision-making process contravenes Shari‘a. us, during the debate on the proposed Law of the Qadis, Knesset Member Tawfiq Tubi (Communist party) drew attention to the discriminatory provisions contained in laws and regulations: e proposed law insults the Muslim population of the state, who deserve the same amount of equality enjoyed by all other religious communities: namely, the right to choose their own religious judges. It is an insult to the religious sentiments and a contradiction of the Muslim Shari‘a that nonMuslim representatives of the government decide who will be the shari‘a judges for Muslims. In stating that most members of the appointment committee will be Muslims, the present proposed reforms are to some extent an improvement over the previous proposal. But this is a cosmetic change, not a substantive one. e law still deprives the Muslim population of the right to select their shari‘a judges, as the appointment committee is still not constituted by [only] Muslims. is is in contradiction to the Shari‘a, which states that only Muslims should select their qadi, as was the case during the Mandate.20 Knesset Minutes, May 16, 1961, 1725. Tubi’s claim that during the Mandate period Palestinian Muslims enjoyed autonomy and were able to choose their qadis is inaccurate, since the nomination of qadis had to be approved by the British High Commissioner (see 20) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 91 e Muslim religious establishment ignores this religious shortcoming, however. is was evident in the debate about the reform of the Family Courts. One of the arguments used by the religious establishment to oppose the reform was that non-Muslims should not be entitled to judge Muslims. (e reform would have granted civil family courts some jurisdiction over matters pertaining to the personal status of Muslims.) More poignantly, it implicitly conceals the problematic nature of the appointment of shari‘a judges in Israel. is discourse may therefore be understood as an attempt to strengthen the legitimacy of the shari‘a court system in Israel, which suffers from a serious legitimacy crisis.21 e issue of the appointment of shari‘a judges by a non-Muslim sovereign raises a more visceral issue: Muslims living in a non-Muslim state.22 If as some Muslim scholars argue, Muslims are forbidden to live in a non-Muslim regime, and must therefore emigrate from such a polity, then the question of appointing shari‘a judges by a non-Muslim sovereign is irrelevant. Conversely, if Muslims are allowed note 8 above). Still, the nominating organ during the Mandate period (the SMC) was a Muslim organ, which is not the case with the nominating organ under Israeli law (the appointment committee). For a similar critique of qadis’ appointment procedure in Israel, see the statement of Shaykh Kamal Rayyan, one of the leaders of the Islamic Movement, Sawt al-Haqq wa’l-Hurriyya 24/4/1998, 3. 21) On the “chronic” legitimacy crises of the shari‘a courts in Israel, see Ido Shahar, “Legal Reform, Interpretive Communities and the Quest for Legitimacy: A Contextual Analysis of a Legal Circular,” in Law, Custom and Statute in the Muslim World: Studies in Honor of Aharon Layish, ed. R. Shaham (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 198-227. 22) Khaled Abou-El Fadl, “Islamic Law and Muslim Minorities: e Juristic Discourse on Muslim Minorities from the 2nd/8th to the 11th/17th centuries,” Islamic Law and Society, 1 (1994), 141-87; Muhammad Khaled Masud, “Shehu Usman Dan Fodio’s Restatement of the Doctrine of Hijrah,” Islamic Studies, 25 (1986), 56-77; idem, “e obligation of Hijra in Islamic Law,” in Muslim Travelers, ed. Dale Eickelman and James Piscatory (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1990), 29-32; Wilfred Madelung, “Has the Hijra Come to an End?” La revue des études islamiques, LIX (1986), 225-37, at 227; Sami A. Aldeeb Abu Sahlieh, “La migration dans la conception musulmane,” Oriente Moderno 13 (1994), 219-83; Kathryn A. Miller, “Muslim Minorities and the Obligation to Emigrate to Islamic Territory: Two Fatwas From Fifteenth-Century Granada,” Islamic Law and Society, 7 (2000), 256-88; Jean-Pierre Molénat, “Le problème de la permanence des musulmans dans les territoires conquis par les chrétiens du point de vue de la loi islamique,” Arabica, 48 (2001), 392-400; Ashraf Abu Zarqa, e position of Islamic law toward Muslims who live under non-Muslim rule between Shaybani and al-Albani, unpublished MA thesis, Haifa University (2004). 92 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 to live in a non-Muslim state, do the jurists (fuqaha’) permit the appointment of shari‘a judges by non-Muslim rulers?23 For the Hanbali jurists, a qadi’s appointment is valid provided it is issued by the Imam; see al-Bahut (d. 1051/1641), Sharh muntaha al-iradat (Beirut: ‘Alam al-kutub, 1993), vol. 2, 490; al-Hijjawi al-Maqdisi (d. 683/1284), Al-iqna‘ li-talib al-intifa‘ (al-Riyad: Wizarat al-shu’un al-islamiyya wa’l-awqaf wa’l-da‘wa wa’l-irshad, 1998), vol. 4, 389; al-Bal‘i (d. 1192/1778), Kashf al-mukhaddirat (Beirut: Dar al-Basha’ir al-islamiyyah, 2002), vol. 2, 818. e Shafi‘is also require that the qadi be appointed by the Imam. See al-Nawawi (d. 676/1277), Rawdat al-talibin wa-‘umdat al-muftin (Beirut: al-Maktab al-Islami, 1985), vol. 11, 123; al-Suyuti (d. 911/1505), Kitab al-tanbih fi furu‘ al-fiqh al-shafi‘i (Beirut: Dar al-fikr li’l-tiba‘a wa’l-nashr wa’l-tawzi‘, 1996), vol. 2, 881. ere are those who posit the condition that the Imam be honest, while others such as al-Ghazali (d. 505/1111) are convinced that it is sufficient that the Imam be dhu shawka (of power). See Ibn al-Muqri (d. 837/1434), Kitab al-tamshiya (Cairo: Dar al-huda li’l-tiba‘a, 1988), vol. 3, 648-9. AlMawardi (d. 450/1058), author of al-Ahkam al-sultaniyya, who belongs to the Shafi‘i school, does not explicitly state that the Imam must be Muslim, but he mentions, among seven other conditions, that the Imam should be ‘adl (just). Al-Mawardi, Al-ahkam alsultaniyya wa’l-wilayat al-diniyya (Cairo: Dar al-fikr, 1983), 6. Similarly, Ibn al-Farra’ (d. 458/1066) does not explicitly posit Islam, but he does posit the condition of ‘adala: Ibn al-Farra’, al-Ahkam al-sultaniyya (Cairo: al-Babi al-Halabi, 1966), 24. One of the conditions of ‘adl is being Muslim: Wahba al-Zuhayli, al-Fiqh al-islami wa-adillatuhu (Damascus: Dar al-Kalam, 1978), vol. 8, 7178. Some hold that the Imam can be a non-Muslim; see al-Sadr al-A‘zam Lutfi Basha (d. 1563), Khalasu al-umma fi ma‘rifat al-a’imma (Cairo: Dar al-afaq al-‘arabiyya, 2001), 45. e Shafi‘i faqih al-Dimyati al-Bakri (d. 1310/1893), for example, quotes Malibari (d. 987/1579), who asked what happens if the sultan appoints a qadi who is an atheist. Malibari noted that the Shafi‘i literature ignores the issue of atheism but he insisted that “one of the conditions of the sultan is that he is Muslim, and [that] the ruling of an atheist is illegal.” See al-Dimyati al-Bakri, Hashiyat i‘anat al-talibin (Beirut: Dar al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 1995), vol. 4, 353. Several of the Maliki fuqaha’, for example al-Mazari (d. 536/1141), allow the appointment of a qadi by a non-Muslim. See Ahmad al-Wansharisi (d. 914/1508), al-Mi‘yar al-mu‘rib wa‘l-jami‘ al-mughrib ‘an fatawi ifriqiya wa’l-andalus wa’l-maghrib (Beirut: Dar al-gharb al-islami, 1981-83), Vol. 2, 133-4; alBurzuli (d. 841/1438), Fatawi al-Burzuli: Jami‘ masa’il al-ahkam li-ma nazila min al-qadaya bi’l-muftin wa’l-hukkam (Beirut: Dar al-gharb al-islami, 2002), vol. 4, 49-51. Al-Haffar (d. 811/1408) recognized the rulings of a judge in dar al-harb; see Müller, “Muslim Minorities”, 268. Al-Wansharisi himself would not allow Muslims to remain in the nonMuslim state and he also denied the legality of the appointment and the rulings of the qadi in a non-Muslim state. Al-‘Abdusi (d. 849/1445) issued a fatwa in which he opined that Muslims must emigrate from a Christian state unless they are afraid for their lives, in which case they can remain. If they do remain in an atheist state, the Muslims must select the qadi in order for his rulings to be valid, because in this case the group takes the place of the Imam. If the Christian sultan appoints the qadi, this appointment is invalid and so are his rulings, unless Muslims agree to his appointment willingly and not by force, in which case it is as if the qadi were appointed by them. See Jalal Ali al-Qadhafi al-Jahani, 23) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 93 roughout history, Muslim jurists have grappled with the tensions between religious ideals and pragmatic worldly concerns.24 Hanafi jurists treated as valid the appointment of a qadi by an unjust ruler (ja’ir), or by an opponent of the Imam (ahl albaghi), based on the precedent of the appointment of shari‘a judges by Mu‘awiya (r. 661-680), who was considered unjust and dishonest for taking the Caliphate from ‘Ali (d. 661).25 According to al-‘Ayni, qadis must be allowed to rule “with justice” (bi’l-haqq). e purpose of appointing a qadi is fulfilled only if he can apply justice.26 Furthermore, when a shari‘a judge is unable to rule justly, his appointment is illegal. What then is the meaning of justice (‘adl)? Ibn Nujaym (d. 970/1562) offers six different meanings for the term ‘adl: (1) the right place (to which everything belongs); (2) moderation in belief, deeds or ethics; (3) wisdom, courage and abstinence (‘iffa); (4) carrying out God’s rules, (5) defense of the rights of the ruled; and (6) equal treatment.27 As the above six meanings show, Ibn Nujaym does not limit the concept of justice to divine justice, nor does he specify which attribute he prefers.28 Is a non-Muslim ruler necessarily an “unjust ruler” (al-sultan alja’ir)? It seems that the term “sultan” initially referred to a Muslim al-Hadiqa al-mustaqilla al-nadira fi al-fatawi al-sadira ‘an ‘ulama’ al-hudra (Beirut: Dar Ibn Hazm, 2003), 144-5. 24) According to Martti Koskenniemi, the law functions between an idealistic paradigm and a practical paradigm. In order for law to be law, it must at the same time be idealistic and pragmatic: Martti Koskenniemi, “e Politics of International Law,” European Journal of International Law, 1 (1990), 4-32. 25) Another instance was the appointment of shari‘a judges by al-Hajjaj (661-714), an Umayyad provincial governor and administrator who was perceived as an unjust person by the ‘ulama’. Salih Bin ‘Abd al-Karim al-Zayd, Bughyat al-Tammam fi tahqiq wa-dirasat mus‘ifat al-hukkam ‘ala al-ahkam (al-Riyad: Maktabat al-Ma‘arif li’l-nashr wa’l-tawzi‘, 1996), vol. 2, 636-43. 26) Al-‘Ayni (d. 855/1451), al-Binaya fi sharh al-hidaya (Beirut: Dar al-fikr, 1990), vol. 2, 16; Ibrahim b. Mahmud al-Halabi (d. 1044/1634), Multaqa al-abhur (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-risala, 1989), vol. 1, 70; Shaykh Zada ‘Abd al-Rahman Bin Muhammad (d. 1078/1667), Mujamma‘ al-anhur fi sharh multaqa al-abhur (Beirut, Dar Ihya’ al-turath al-‘arabi, 1994), vol. 2, 156. 27) Ibn Nujaym (d. 970/1562), al-Bahr al-ra’iq sharh kanz al-daqa’iq (Beirut: Dar al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 1997), vol. 6, 462. 28) For the concept of justice in Islam, see Majid Khadduri, e Islamic Conceptions of 94 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 sultan since one of the conditions for selecting a sultan was that the candidate be a Muslim. But what occurs when the sultan is not a Muslim? Is his appointment of shari‘a judges valid or not? Some of the Hanafi jurists dealt with this issue. In his interpretation of al-Nasafi (d. 710/1310), Miskin, who wrote around 811/1408, held that a sultan can appoint a qadi whether he himself is ‘adl (just) or ja’ir (unjust). He concluded that since this statement is general, any ruler–even an atheist sultan–may appoint shari‘a judges.29 Ibn al-Humam (d. 855/1457) offered an original solution--Muslims should select a leader who, in turn, would choose the judge.30 ‘Abd al-Karim Zidan, a 20th century Muslim jurist, suggests that the latter solution should be adopted when the sultan is an atheist.31 If this is not possible, and the atheist ruler insists on selecting the qadi, Justice (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1984); Boğaç A. Ergene, “An Ottoman Justice: Interpretations in Conflict (1600-1800),” Islamic Law and Society, 8:1 (2001), 52-87. For a discussion of contradictions between shari‘a and justice, see ibid., 58 and 60. 29) Are Jews and Christians atheists? is depends on the context of the legal issue. In general, Muslim jurists considered Jews and Christians as atheists because they do not believe in the Prophet Muhammad and in the Qur’an. Ibn ‘Abidin, Min rasa’il Ibn ‘Abidin (Damascus: Matba‘at al-ma‘arif, 1883), 10. al-Ghazali (d. 505/1111), al-Iqtisad fi al-I‘tiqad (Damascus: al-Hikma, 1994), 248. e Hanafi faqih Ibn al-Humam (d. 861/1457) for example, discusses the situation in Cordoba--a state dominated, in his view, by atheists. Ibn al-Humam undoubtedly was referring to Christians, who controlled Cordoba at that time. See Ibn al-Humam, Sharh fath al-qadir (Beirut: Dar al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 2003), vol. 7, 64. Notably, the status of Jews and Christians frequently is distinguished from that of other non-Muslims, as in the case of peace treaties or the marriage of a Muslim to a Jewish or Christian woman. al-Kasani (d. 587/1191) explains this difference on the grounds that Jews and Christians are more likely to be attracted to Islam than are other non-Muslims. See al-Kasani, Bada’i‘ al-sana’i‘ fi tartib al-shara’i‘ (Beirut: Dar al-fikr, 1996), vol. 2, 4035. According to Yohanan Friedman, Jews and Christians are classified as infidels, but they have different status from other infidels. See Yohanan Friedmann, Tolerance and coercion in Islam: interfaith relations in the Muslim tradition (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 55. On the classification of Jews and Christians as infidels in the i‘lam al-kalam literature, see Ibn al-Farra’ (d. 458/1066), Kitab al-mu‘tamid fi usul al-din (Beirut: Dar al-Mashriq, 1974), 267. 30) Ibn al-Humam, Sharh fath al-qadir (Beirut: Dar al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 2003), vol. 7, 264. 31) Abd al-Karim Zaydan, Nizam al-qada’ fi al-Shari‘a al-Islamiyya (Amman: Mu’assasat al-risala, 1995), 37-8. M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 95 ahl al-ra’y wa’l-‘ilm (those who possess knowledge and wisdom) among the Muslims should suggest a suitable candidate, and if the atheist ruler then selects him, it is as if they selected him. If an atheist ruler refuses to appoint a qualified candidate selected by “knowledgeable and wise” Muslims, the latter will nevertheless have to accept the appointee of the ruler, provided that he rules according to the shari‘a. However, if the appointee for shari‘a judge is unqualified, or, if the atheist ruler does not allow him to rule according to the shari‘a or interferes in his affairs, then the appointee must reject the post. If, in the end, an unqualified qadi is appointed, the Muslims should select from among themselves a just Muslim, who is a shari‘a expert, to solve their problems, and they should not bring their cases to be tried by an unqualified qadi.32 Some judges presiding in Israeli shari‘a courts are aware of the problem of illegitimacy. ey are demanding the establishment of a Supreme Muslim Council to supervise the religious issues of the Muslims, including the shari‘a courts.33 In a 1949 booklet entitled “e Supreme Muslim Shari‘a Council,” the Minister for Minority Affairs Bechor Shitrit wrote: Since the Muslim community in Israel needs a legal authority concerning issues of personal status and since it is a duty to regulate this [domain of the law], I think that the easiest way is to call for the election by the members of the Muslim community of a Supreme Shari‘a Judge, who will be assigned the authority to appoint judges and muftis in Israel with the approval of the Prime Minister of Israel. us […] we will not need the viewpoints of the fuqaha’ who raise questions concerning this problem.34 Israeli policymakers did not adopt this recommendation. Instead, the Qadis Law of 1961 determined that shari‘a judges will be appointed by the aforementioned appointment committee. us, from a shari‘a point of view, the shari‘a court system in Israel lacks legitimacy. Obviously, this has seriously diminished their functional Ibid. Ziyad Tawfiq Mahmud ‘Asaliyya, Athar al-qawanin al-isra’iliyya fi al-qada’ al-shar‘i fi Isra’il (M.A. esis in Shar‘i Jurisdiction, al-Khalil University, 2003), 193. 34) Bechor Shitrit, e Supreme Muslim Council for Shari‘a (1949), 16 (In Hebrew). 32) 33) 96 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 legitimacy. Be that as it may, even if a non-Muslim ruler is allowed to appoint shari‘a judges, such appointments are valid to the extent that justice, namely shari‘a, is applied. is condition is absent in Israel, where judges lack a shari‘a education and shari‘a courts have lost many of their Islamic characteristics through secularization.35 Lack of Delineation: Qadis without a Shari‘a Education Hierarchy in the juridical field, as Bourdieu notes, is in direct proportion to the accumulation of capital in the form of expertise in legal knowledge.36 In Israel, however, the Islamic legal field is anomalous, since the accumulation of formal shari‘a education is not regarded as mandatory for players in the field. Whereas in other countries, the knowledge of both state and Islamic law appears to be an important asset for members of the Muslim legal-religious field,37 in Israel there is a clear precedence of secular legal education over shari‘a education.38 e qadis in Israel who are responsible for the application of shari‘a rules do not posses the “symbolic capital” that is needed in order to distinguish them from the secular legal field. us, it may be inferred that the Islamic religious field in Israel is deficient from yet another perspective: unlike other legal-religious fields, this one is not well-distinguished from secular legal fields. Ambiguity between the shari‘a field and the Israeli secular legal field has resulted, first, from the fact that shari‘a courts are subordinate to Israeli legislation, and second, from the fact that persons without proper shari‘a training See Aharon Layish, “e Adaptation of Religious law to Modern times in a Strange Ambiance: shari‘a in Israel,” Israeli National Academy for Sciences, 9 (2005), 13-51 (in Hebrew). 36) Bourdieu, “e Force of Law: Toward a Sociology of the Juridical Field,” Hastings Law Journal, 38 (1987), 819. 37) In Morocco, Tunisia, Egypt and Jordan secular law has became an integral part of the curricula at institutions for shari‘a education. See Monique C. Cardinal, “Islamic Legal eory Curriculum: Are the Classics Taught Today?” Islamic Law and Society, 12 (2005), 224-72. 38) My information on the education of the qadis in Israel is based on personal acquaintance with the qadis and on Y. Reiter, “Qadis and the Implementation of Islamic Law in Present Day Israel,” in Islamic Law: eory and Practice, eds. R. Gleave and E. Kermeli (London / New York: I. B. Tauris, 1997), 205-31, at 205-9. 35) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 97 have been appointed to the office of Qadiship. Moreover, it is a non-Muslim authority that appoints the qadis. It is noteworthy that Hanafi legal doctrine overlooks the issue of the educational requirements of a qadi. In practice, however, these requirements have changed over time. According to al-Quduri (d. 428/1036), a prerequisite for the post was that the appointee be a mujtahid.39 Later, Hanafi jurists relaxed this condition: al-Musilli (d. 683/1284) states that although it is preferable for the candidate to be a mujtahid, if this condition cannot be met, then the appointee must at least fulfill the conditions for giving testimony in court.40 is concession notwithstanding, al-Musilli required candidates to be knowledgeable in fiqh and sunna; any candidate who lacks this knowledge should not be appointed to the qadiship. Al-Musilli mentions Abu Yusuf (d. 182/798), who prefers that the qadi be pious (wari‘an) over being a mujtahid, and explains that knowledge of the laws of inheritance suffices for appointment. He adds that the candidate can even be ignorant (jahil), in which case he may base his judgments on the fatwas of others.41 Similarly, al-Marghinani (d. 593/1197) does not require that the qadi be a mujtahid, but he insists that the candidate know fiqh and the hadiths of the Prophet.42 Al-Kasani (d. 587/1191) says that it is not a condition that the qadi be a mujtahid. e qadi can judge by relying on the fatwa of other ʿulamaʾ. But al-Kasani adds a proviso: it is forbidden to appoint a qadi who is totally ignorant of shari‘a rules.43 Ibn al-Humam (d. 861/1457) goes further and states that if there is a well-educated person among the people, he must be selected.44 Ibn ‘Abidin (d. 1252/1836) asserts that the condition of being a mujtahid is not obligatory; although a candidate who is a mujtahid is preferable, should no such candidate exist, it is permissible to select a nonAhmad b. Mohammad al-Quduri, Mukhtasar al-Quduri (Beirut: Dar al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 1997), 223. 40) Abdallah b. Muhammad al-Musilli, al-Ikhtiyar li-ta‘lil al-mukhtar (Beirut: Dar al-Arqam Bin Abi al-Arqam, 1995), vol. 1, 243-4. 41) Ibid. 42) ‘Ali al-Marghinani, Al-hidaya: Sharh bidayat al-mubtadiʾ, vol. 3, 101. 43) al-Kasani, vol. 7, 4. 44) Ibn al-Humam, 253. 39) 98 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 mujtahid who would rely on the fatwas of a mufti.45 Although it is explicitly stated in Tanwir al-absar46 that the candidate must be knowledgeable in hadith, fiqh and athar,47 these conditions have been removed over time. At the outset, the requirement that a qadi be a mujtahid was mandatory; by the 19th century, this requirement has been reduced to a preference. e Hanafi fuqahaʾ emphasize that if a mujtahid is not available, a mufti can provide counsel, in which case the religious legitimacy of the qadi is based on that of the mufti. us, if a qadi lacks a shari‘a education, the mufti’s presence is obligatory. e traditional educational method relied on memory and rote knowledge, rather than on exegesis of texts.48 A Muslim faqih acquired a reputation as a knowledgeable scholar by studying with a reputable teacher, who himself studied with reputable teachers. What mattered most was not mastering the teacher’s pedagogy but experiencing the transmission of his baraka. Jurists never explicitly specify their teacher’s baraka. Rather, they stress the importance of a flawless transmission of knowledge. In the introductory chapter of many legal texts, authors quote an uninterrupted chain of jurists going back to the Prophet or his Companions.49 Since knowledge in Islamic sciences was not acquired merely by studying texts, the question arises as to the legitimacy of a legal opinion which is based solely on written texts. In one of his essays, Ibn ‘Abidin remarks on this problem: I saw a fatwa by the faqih Ibn Hajar, who was asked about a person who had read and viewed books of fiqh alone, without [the instruction of ] a shaykh, and who issued a fatwa by relying on books. Is this allowed or not? He answered that he [the faqih] is not allowed to give fatwas because he is an ‘ammi jahil (ignorant person) who does not know what he is saying. Only Ibn ‘Abidin, Hashiyat radd al-muhtar ‘ala al-durr al-mukhtar, vol. 5, 504-5. Written by the Hanafi jurist al-Timartashi (d. 1004/1595). 47) Ibn ‘Abidin, Hashiyat radd al-muhtar, vol. 5, 504. 48) Dale F. Eickelman, “e Art of Memory: Islamic Education and Its Social Reproduction,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, 20 (1978), 485-516. 49) For example, in his comment on al-Hidaya by al-Marghinani, Ibn al-Humam lists the chain of transmission of fuqaha’ ending with the author himself (Ibn al-Humam, vol. 1, 7 and 11). al-Babarti (d. 786/1384) mentions the same chain (ibid, 6). 45) 46) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 99 one who acquires “al-‘ilm” from well-known shaykhs is allowed [to produce fatwas]. He is not allowed to issue a fatwa from reading a book or two. AlNawawi, peace be upon him, said that not even by reading ten or twenty books [can a man be considered knowledgeable to issue fatwas], precisely because all these books might be based on a mistaken statement and, thus, should not be imitated. In contrast, a diligent person who acquires ‘ilm from people who possess it can distinguish right from wrong and can recognize [the right] issues and their implications. is type of person can issue a fatwa and serve as a mediator between the believers and God.50 In the pre-modern era, it was the very method for the transmission of knowledge, not knowledge itself, which distinguished those who belonged to the religio-legal field from those who did not. Recall that Ibn ‘Abidin did not consider knowledge of fiqh books sufficient, because their authors might have misinterpreted their predecessors; and such mistakes can accumulate.51 Unmediated interpretation of classical shar‘i writings leads to the secularization of knowledge, because it underscores the decline of religious authority and the emergence of interpreters of faith who are not bound by previous restrictions. is is not to say that the transmission of religious knowledge must be based on “traditional” methods. What matters are the criteria for distinguishing common knowledge from religious knowledge. Such a distinction continued to exist in the Ottoman state until the late 19th century, when the educational system for qadis radically changed.52 Traditionally, members of the religio-legal Islamic field (muftis, qadis, ʿulamaʾ and fuqahaʾ) were distinguished from non-members of this field by their shari‘a education. In Israel, in contrast, such a distinction is absent, although the Israeli shari‘a system makes a concerted effort to obscure this fact. us, for example, a central argument in the context of the debate over the legislation amendment that accorded jurisdiction to the civil family courts in matters Ibn ‘Abidin, Min rasa’il Ibn ‘Abidin (Damascus: Matba‘at al-ma‘arif, 1883), Rasm alMufti, 9. 51) Ibid. 52) Jun Akiba, “A New School for Qadis: Education of the Shari‘a Judges in the Late Ottoman Empire,” Turcica, 34 (2003), 125-63. 50) 100 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 pertaining to the personal status of Muslims53 was that the judges presiding in family courts lack any Muslim legal education, and, thus, are unable to adjudicate according to Islamic law.54 e debate has focused on the lack of appropriate shari‘a education of civil judges, when, in fact, qadis currently presiding in Israeli shari‘a courts have no formal shari‘a education as well. e ongoing struggle over the legislation amendment has also raised an equally salient concern: the legitimacy of non-Muslim judges to try Muslims in matters of personal status. is concern conceals the fact that Muslim law does not distinguish personal status issues from civil and criminal issues. Moreover, problem of legitimacy is pertinent in all areas of the law.55 Other than the Muslim and Druze communities, all judges in religious courts possess a formal religious education. e judges in rabbinical courts are rabbis. In both the Latin and the Eastern Catholic communities, the bishop of the eparchy is authorized to appoint an ecclesiastical judge who has a university degree in canon law.56 is formal requirement does not hold for the Druze community. And yet, candidates for the position of qadi madhhab have always Amendment No. 5 to the Family Courts Law aimed to reform the jurisdiction of family courts, shari‘a courts and ecclesiastical courts with respect to non-Jewish litigants. Following its legislation in the Knesset (Israeli parliament) in November 5, 2001, family courts gained parallel jurisdiction over all matters of personal status of non-Jewish litigants, except for marriage and divorce (which remained under the exclusive jurisdiction of the religious courts). e amendment simultaneously extended the jurisdiction of civil family courts and reduced the jurisdiction of the non-Jewish religious courts in these matters. 54) Knesset minutes, October 23rd, 2001, Legislation Bill the family Courts (Amendment No. 5) (second and third hearings). 55) is point was raised in the Knesset plenum: Legislation Bill the family Courts (Amendment No. 4) (equalization of jurisdictions), July 28th, 1998; Minute no. 337, e Constitution, Justice and Law Committee, July 10th, 2001. 56) Can. 1421 of the code of canonical law from 1983 concerning the Latin community, Lamberto de Echeverria, Code de droit canonique annoté (Paris: Les Editions du Cerf, 1989). Can. 1087 of the code of canon of the Eastern Church from 1990, Code des Canons des Eglises Orientales (Texte officiel et traduction par Emile Eid et René Metz), Vatican, Librairie Editrice Vaticane, 1997. In exceptional cases, when need arises, the Bishops Council can allow a secular person to be appointed to the position of judge. For such an appointment to take place, however, this person must, among other conditions, be qualified in Christian theology and canon law. See de Echeverria, Code de droit, 803. 53) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 101 been men of religion (‘uqal).57 e Druze religious field is inaccessible to anyone who is not of a religious background: there is a clear distinction between the ‘uqqal, who have religious authority and can pray and read the secret holy books unknown to the rest of the community members, and the juhhal, the laity, who have no ritual duties and are forbidden to read the holy books.58 Criticism has been raised within the Druze community with regards to the present situation, and some critics have demanded that judges appointed to Druze courts should have a formal legal education. us, the Druze religious field in Israel is much better separated and delineated from the civil legal field than is the Muslim religious field. As for those countries in which the shari‘a courts do maintain jurisdiction over matters of personal status of Muslims, not all states require the judge to have a formal shari‘a education. In Syria, for example, a man may be appointed to the position of qadi even if he has no formal shari‘a education. All the same, there are officially appointed muftis within the Syrian shari‘a field, as well as “private” muftis and ulama who are well-versed in the shari‘a.59 e same holds for Egypt, where for centuries muftis, ulama and, jurists from al-Azhar have provided a wide array of legal opinions.,60 In Nigeria, the law does not require qadis to have a formal shari‘a education, but the qadis do not constitute the sole actors in the shari‘a field.61 57) Article 9 of the Druze Religious Courts Law, 1962, (BL No. 126, 66) states that “adequate to be appointed for the position of qadi madhhab is someone who is: (1) adequately qualified in Druze religion; (2) his lifestyle and manners fit the position of qadi madhhab in Israel; (3) is thirty years old or more, married or was married. 58) On the distinction between ‘uqqal and juhhal in the Druze religion, see Nejla M. AbuIzzeddin, e Druzes. A New Study of their History, Faith and Society (Leiden/New York/ Koln: E.J.Brill, 1993), 223-5. 59) Muhammad Mustafa al-Zuhayli, al-Tanzim al-qada’i fi al-fiqh al-islami, dirasat muqarana (Beirut, Dar al-fikr al-mu‘asir, 2002), vol. 5, 164, 170. 60) Maurits S. Berger, “Secularizing Inter-religious law in Egypt,” Islamic Law and Society, (2005), 403-4. 61) A. A. Oba, “Improving Women’s Access to Justice and the Quality of Administration of Islamic Criminal Justice in Northern Nigeria,” in Shari‘a Implementation in Nigeria: Issues and Challenges on Women’s Rights and Access to Justice, ed. J.N. Azeila, M. T. Ladan and A. Afolali-Akizade (Enugu / Port Harcort / Abuja: WACOL, 2003), 62. 102 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 In contrast, in Indonesia, a qadi must have a degree from a Faculty of shari‘a or a law degree with a strong shari‘a component.62 In Israel, the Qadis’ Law of 1961 determines the procedures and the requirements for the appointment of qadis. is law does not require formal shari‘a education. e lack of religious education for candidates to the qadiship was twice brought before the Israeli Supreme Court. e committee for the appointment of qadis decided in 1996 to appoint Mustafa ‘Abid to the position of qadi. 63 For various reasons this appointment was postponed and in 1998 the committee reconsidered its decision and did not appoint the petitioner. Judge Cheshin of the Supreme Court of Justice ruled: In front of us is a letter dated 18 August 1998 and signed by his honor Judge Ahmad Natur, Head of the Shari‘a Court of Appeals. It turns out that President Natur totally rejects the appointment of the petitioner for the Judgeship. He states that Mr. ‘Abid has no professional or other religious education that qualifies him for the post of a qadi shar‘i […] Needless to say, one who lacks the adequate academic education and personal qualities for the position of judge should not be part of the shari‘a system.64 Judge Cheshin added: “We can only appreciate the President of the Shari‘a Court of Appeals for demanding that a candidate for the position of a qadi in Israel be academically qualified”65 Academic qualification, however, was not the sole criterion invoked by the Supreme Court to approve the rejection of the candidate; it was only one among several criteria mentioned by the court. On another occasion, the academic qualification of a candidate for the position of qadi was raised for the opposite reason. In that case, the appointment committee recommended the appointment of a candidate who lacked any formal education in shari‘a or civil Article 27 of the Law No. 7 of the Republic of Indonesia, 1989 on the Religious Judicature. See, Arskal Salim and Azyumardi Azra, Shari‘a and Politics in Modern Indonesia (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2003), 257, 264. 63) Supreme Court of Justice [hereinafter SCR] 7193/97, Mustafa Abed against the Minister of Religious Affairs and the Head of the Qadi’s Appointment Committee, Supreme Court Decisions [hereinafter: SCD], 1997, 51 (5), 365. 64) Ibid., 378. 65) Ibid., 379. 62) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 103 law. Among the petitioners was a woman who was a candidate for the position, as well as several Arab feminist organizations and the Women’s Lobby in Israel. In their petition the petitioner and the feminist organizations cited Judge Cheshin’s words quoted above and added: It is to be emphasized again that among the candidates for the position of qadi were advocates and shari‘a claimants.66 In light of this gap between the qualifications of the selected candidate and the rejected candidates, a suspicion arises that the considerations revealed in this selection by the committee were not only irrelevant but improper.67 e petitioners expressed bitter criticism over the inconsistency of the ruling—namely, mandatory academic credentials in the case of Mustafa ‘Abid and the selection of an unqualified candidate in the case of ‘Ubayd. e Supreme Court determined that: e regulations do not require a preliminary formal education, but “knowledge or the capacity to learn Muslim shari‘a,” and, as to the required knowledge itself, this is left to the decision of the appointment committee. No doubt, it is required and necessary that people who occupy the positions of qadis should have adequate education, knowledge and training. However, legal training is not a precondition among the required permanent skills, as stated in article 2 of the law. Accordingly, the Supreme Court has acted inconsistently in its interpretation of the educational requirements for qadi candidates. In the case of Mustafa ‘Abid, the Court overlooked the qadi’s law, which does not require appointees to have a formal shari‘a or legal education. e court justified the decision of the committee to withdraw the appointment of a candidate on the grounds that he had no formal education. In the case of ‘Ubayd, the court took a Unlike lawyers, who are allowed to represent litigants in any kind of litigation, and in any kind of legal institution, shari‘a claimants (murafi‘in shar‘iyin) are allowed to represent litigants only in shari‘a courts. In Israel, in order to be authorized to act as a shari‘a claimant, a man (or a woman) needs only to pass an exam set up by the shari‘a claimants examining committee, which is nominated by the Minister of Justice. 67) Ibid., p. 6 of the petition. 66) 104 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 radically different approach, however. Presenting its decisions in formalist terms, the Supreme Court refused to intervene in the decision of the committee to choose a candidate who lacked formal education. ese two cases make evident how the legal process can arbitrarily justify or not justify a position. Moreover, the Supreme Court refrained from interfering in the qadis’ appointment committee decisions, not because its considerations were flawless, but rather in order to prevent interference in the decisions of the civil-judges’ appointment committee. Following this ruling of the Supreme Court, the issue of qadi education was treated in the Qadis’ law (amendment No.10). Article 2 (1) of the 1961 Qadis’ Law defines the educational requirements of qadis as “adequate education in shari‘a law.” is article was amended as follows: 2. (a) Eligible to be appointed as qadi is every Muslim who (1) has an advanced religious education in shari‘a law and a strong knowledge of Islamic studies, according to the criteria of the appointing committee, or is a lawyer who is a member of the Bar association and has practiced law successively or alternately for at least five years; (2) has a lifestyle and a nature appropriate for the position of qadi in the state of Israel; (3) is at least thirty years old; (4) has successfully passed the written examinations determined by an examining committee and elaborated in sub-article (b). (b) Members of the testing committee are: President of the Shari‘a Court of Appeals as chairman, a Muslim Knesset member selected by the committee, and another person who previously served as a qadi or is a lawyer who has practiced law as stated in sub-article (a) (1) and has been appointed by the Minister of Justice. us, the law does not require shari‘a education, and leaves open the option of selecting a qadi with a secular legal education. e justification for this is that there are no academic institutions in Israel that teach shari‘a.68 is claim, however, is misleading. It is possible for Israeli Muslims to study shari‘a in Jordan and Morocco, and in Israel itself there are two institutions for shari‘a studies: one in Baqa al-Gharbiyye, which is accredited by the Israeli Ministry of Education, and the other in Umm Al-Fahm, which lacks See, for example, Knesset member Moshe Gafni’s statements (Qadis’ Law Proposal, Amendment No. 10), second and third hearings from June 24, 2002. 68) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 105 accreditation. Although the declared aim of this law is to improve the status of education, the Qadis’ Law does not do that, nor does it solve the major problem facing the shari‘a courts, which is the lack of religious legitimacy. 5. e Centrality of the Qadis in the Islamic Religious Field in Israel In Israel, the qadis not only are nominated by a non-Muslim committee and lack proper Islamic education, but they also take on the role of monopolistic players in the Islamic religious field. Israeli state policies have prevented the emergence of an autonomous Muslim leadership or communal organization.69 is policy has unwittingly endowed the qadis presiding in shari‘a courts with farreaching jurisdiction and powers; under state aegis, they alone have formal authority in the Islamic religious field.70 In theory, Israeli qadis could have sought assistance from prestigious religious personalities inside Israel, or from a spiritual center outside the country, such as al-Azhar in Egypt. One might argue that assistance is particularly needed in light of both the lack of shari‘a education of Israeli qadis and the broad judicial discretion they enjoy.71 However, a thorough review of their judgments indicates that Israeli qadis have never nurtured a relationship with any informal religious authority inside Israel,72 nor have they communicated with Alisa Rubin Peled, Debating Islam in the Jewish State. e Development of Policy toward Islamic Institutions in Israel (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2001). 70) Surely, there are Muslim religious personalities in Israel who may be addressed or consulted with in shari‘a matters, beside the presiding qadis. However, their religiousnormative authority is entirely informal. 71) Ido Shahar has argued that because proceedings at shari‘a courts are not monitored closely by Israeli state authorities and because the substantive and procedural codes used in these courts have not been changed for decades, Israeli qadis enjoy a relatively wideranging judicial discretion in applying and interpreting the shari‘a. See Ido Shahar, “Practicing Islamic Law in a Legal Pluralistic Environment: e Changing Face of a Muslim Court in Present Day Jerusalem”, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation (Beer-Sheva: Ben Gurion University, 2006), 52-4. 72) It is noteworthy that, as far as I know, no one in present-day Israel attaches the title “mufti” to his name. is lack of self-proclaimed “private” muftis may be explained by the preference of the Islamic movement in Israel to designate its senior leaders as sheikhs. Still, I have not found any evidence of qadis who consulted with either muftis or sheikhs before issuing their judgments. 69) 106 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 any center abroad.73 In the rulings of the shari‘a court from 1992 to 2001 and selections from 2002 to 2005, I have not found a single instance in which a question was referred to a religious-normative authoritative personality inside or outside Israel. us, unlike their predecessors–the qadis who presided over shari‘a courts in Ottoman Palestine–Israeli qadis seem to refrain from consultation with muftis altogether.74 It is not clear whether appeal for advice from muftis, whether inside or outside the country, would diminish their authority. What is certain is that Israeli qadis have seized the prerogative of issuing fatwas on their own. us, qadis have issued several fatwas concerning matters of waqf, either to confirm the legality of certain acts under shari‘a or to prohibit such acts. Even the head of the Islamic Movement in Israel asks qadis to issue fatwas.75 More surprisingly, the qadis in Israel also engage in reforming the shari‘a court system in a way that undermines parliamentary legislation. During the last twelve years, qadis have issued four legal marsums (judicial circulars) that instigated significant reforms in shari‘a court judgments.76 e qadis thus want to exclude even the Knesset from shari‘a matters. Furthermore, the head of the Shari‘a Law Committee in the Israeli Bar Association is the current head of the shari‘a courts administration; the head of the examining committee for shari‘a advocates (murafi‘in shar‘iyyin) is a presiding qadi. In addition, until 2001 a qadi was a member of the committee in charge of examining candidates for the position of Imam in Israel. Note, however, that al-Azhar’s functionaries would probably refrain from cooperating with the “enemy.” It is worth mentioning that al-Azhar has refused to accept Israeli Muslims to study shari‘a there. It would be politically more difficult to cooperate with Israeli qadis. 74) Judith E. Tucker, In the House of the Law. Gender and Islamic Law in Ottoman Syria and Palestine (Berkeley/Los Angeles/London: University of California Press,1998). 75) In an opinion that he presented at the Supreme Court, one qadi demanded that the head of the Islamic movement be temporarily released from his imprisonment in order to perform the ‘umra pilgrimage (SCR 4706/02 Raid Salah v. e Minister of Interiors, SCD, 56 (5), 695). 76) http://www.justice.gov.il/MOJHeb/BatiDinHashreim/MaagreiMeida/Minsharim/ 73) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 107 In this regard, Bourdieu’s premise about competition between players within a social field does not apply to Muslim religious field in Israel. is field is almost completely monopolized by the qadis presiding in the shari‘a courts, who exercise virtual control over any position of power within the field. e absence of competition in the Israeli Muslim-religious field is one more anomalous element of a highly anomalous field. 6. Some General Observations about Islamic Religious Fields To conclude, this anomalous case—the Israeli Islamic religious field—provides a working definition for normative Islamic religious fields. Salient characteristics of the Israeli Islamic religious field are lack of autonomy, lack of delineation, an unprecedented centrality of qadis in the field, and lack of competition. Looking at other Islamic religious fields, past and present, we find no similar case. Although most Muslim states are under authoritarian rule, various agents compete within a religious field, clearly distinct from other social fields. No single group of agents has monopolized interpretation of Islamic law. In medieval Morocco for example, the principal agents were muftis, qadis, the sultan and other ʿulamaʾ who had no official positions. Since then, the structure of the religious field has changed: the Moroccan king has absolute authority over matters pertaining to shari‘a law. As Amir al-mu’minin (the Commander of the Faithful),77 he has taken on the prerogative to regulate orthodoxy and determine its parameters. Moreover, Moroccan courts have recognized his authority.78 is does not mean that ulama in contemporary Morocco have no role in the shari‘a field, however. As Mohammad Tuzi points out, even those ulama who operate independently of the state remain influential in Morocco.79 Alain Roussillon, “Réformer la Moudawana: statut et conditions des marocaines,” Maghreb-Machrek (2004), 79-99, at 97. 78) Mohamed Tozy, Monarchie et islam politique au Maroc (2 édition, Paris: Presses de la Fondation Nationale des Sciences Politiques, 1999), 96. 79) Ibid., 104: «S’il existe toujours des oulémas du pouvoir, il est difficile de négliger le pouvoir des oulémas…» 77) 108 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 eir status may appear secondary, but their importance is evident during political crises.80 In Egypt, the Parliament has the authority to intervene and even to pass laws, which presumably derive from the shari‘a (especially in the field of personal status). Although the Shaykh of al-Azhar provides legitimacy to government policies such as changes in the law on unilateral khul‘ divorce, he still has considerable leverage that allows him to oppose the authorities on various matters.81 Public conflicts between state authorities and the senior ‘ulama’, headed by Sheikh al-Azhar, maintain the religious legitimacy and prestige of these social actors.82 If the ‘ulama’ have lost much influence in Morocco and Egypt, in Saudi Arabia, where there is no legislative body, they have retained most of their powers.83 e Saudi king does intervene in the religious field, however. He both issues legal decrees and initiates legal reforms.84 Even in non-Muslim countries such as India, Kenya and Nigeria a strong institutionalized or semi-institutionalized ‘ulama’ establishment seems to play an important role in the Muslim religious field. In India in the late 1950s, the unwillingness of the Muslim community, headed by several prestigious religious personalities, to relinquish the shari‘a (or the Anglo-Muhammadan law administered in its name) brought to a halt parliamentary attempts to reform the Indian personal-status regime.85 irty years later, the Indian ‘ulama’ establishment was able to mobilize the Muslim masses to carry out demonstrations in reaction to a controversial judgment of the Indian Ibid., 104. Nathalie Bernard-Maugiron, “Normes et pratiques en matières de statut personnel: la loi sur le ‘khul‘‘ en Égypte,» Maghreb-Machrek (2005), 77-98, at 84. 82) Tamir Moustafa, “Conflict and Cooperation between the State and Religious Institutions in Contemporary Egypt,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, 32 (2000), 3-22. 83) Muhammad al-Atawneh, “Shari‘a and Politics in Saudia Arabia: Siyasa Shar‘iyya as a Mechanism for Stabilizing Government and Society,” Jama‘a, 8 (2001), 54-83 (in Hebrew). 84) Ibid., 55. Frank E. Vogel, Islamic Law and Legal System: Studies of Saudi Arabia (Leiden/ Boston/Koln: Brill, 2000), 173-8. 85) M. Galanter and J. Krishnan, “Personal Law and Human Rights in India and Israel,” Israel Law Review, 34 (2000), 101-33, at 107-8. 80) 81) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 109 Supreme Court. is decision, the famous case of Shah Banu, was denounced by the ‘ulama’ establishment as contradictory to shari‘a principles, and was therefore perceived by the Muslim public as marking the end of Muslim personal law in India.86 Likewise, in Kenya and Nigeria–both non-Muslim states with a large Muslim minority–the Muslim religious establishment is a powerful political actor, a situation which the Kenyan and Nigerian governments must take into consideration.87 us, except in Israel,88 the ‘ulama’ constitute an important group of agents, responsible not only for producing authoritative interpretations of Muslim law, but also for communal political leadership. When doubt arises over the correct interpretation of the shari‘a, qadis presiding over shari‘a courts or legislators in parliaments usually ask an ‘alim or a mufti for advice. Sometimes, the litigants themselves ask muftis to support their interpretation of the law. Two caveats are in order. First, respectable ‘ulama’ are sometimes nominated to the position of qadi, but more often they acquire their prestige by pursuing a shari‘a education and by composing fiqh books.89 is is not to advocate a “juristic” approach to Islamic law or to trumpet the intellectual contributions of the ‘ulama’ at 86) On the Shah Banu case and the role played by the semi-official ‘ulama’ establishment in mobilizing the Muslim protest against the judgment of the Indian Supreme Court, see S. Akhtar, Shah Banu Judgment in Islamic Perspective (New Delhi: Kitab Bhavan, 1994); F. Agnus, Law and Gender Inequality: e Politics of Women’s Rights in India (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1999), 100-6. 87) On the Muslim religious establishment in Nigeria and its complicated relations with the Nigerian government, see R. Loimeire, Islamic Reform and Political Change in Northern Nigeria (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1997); on the Muslim religious establishment in Kenya, see A. Oded, Islam and Politics in Kenya (London: Lynne Riener, 2000), esp. ch. 2. 88) Malika Zeghal, Gardiens de l’islam, les oulémas d’Al Azhar dans l’Egypte contemporaine (Paris: Presses de la Fondation Nationale des Sciences Politiques, 1996); Léon Buskens, “Recent Debates on Family Law Reform in Morocco: Islamic Law as Politics in an Emerging Public Sphere,” Islamic Law and Society, 10 (2003), 70-131. For the Palestinian Authority, see Lynn Welchman, “In the Interim: Civil Society, the Shari‘a Judiciary and Palestinian Personal Status Law in the Transitional Period,” Islamic Law and Society, 10 (2003), 3469. 89) Wael B. Hallaq, Authority, Continuity and Change in Islamic Law (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001). 110 M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 the expense of other groups of religious agents.90 But the ‘ulama’ have played an important role in every Islamic religious field. us, their absence in the Israeli Muslim religious field is an anomaly. Second, no field possesses clear-cut definitions or experiences total autonomy. Since pre-modern times, rulers have interfered in the Muslim religious field, e.g., by promoting a specific shari‘a textbook over others. For example, the Ottoman government promoted Ibrahim b. Mahmud al-Halabi’s Multaqa al-abhur in an effort to make the law more uniform.91 Similarly, the ‘Alawi sultan Muhammad ‘Abdallah (d. 1204/1790) prohibited the use of books that contradicted those legal opinions that he supported.92 e Moghul ruler Aurangzeb Alamgir (1618-1707) supported the compilation of a collection of opinions of the Hanafi school.93 Another well-known instance of a ruler’s interference in the religious field was the appointment of four chief qadis belonging to the four Sunni schools by the Mamluk sultan al-Zahir Baybars in 663/1265.94 Joseph Schacht, An Introduction to Islamic law (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964), 210; Herbert J. Liebesny, “Comparative Legal History: Its Role in the Analysis of Islamic and Modern Near Eastern Legal Institutions,” American Journal of Comparative Law, 20 (1972), 38-52; Bernard G. Weiss, e Spirit of Islamic Law (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1998), 113. 91) Şukru Selim Has, “e Use of Multaqa’l-abhur in the Ottoman Madrasas and in Legal Scholarship,” e Journal of Ottoman Studies, VII-VIII (1988), 393-418, at 402: “ere is no reason to doubt that the Multaqa enjoyed the support of the government and that its use by qadis and teachers was encouraged, presumably with the aim of implementing uniformity of law in the state.” 92) Mohammad Fadel, “e Social Logic of Taqlid and the Rise of the Mukhtasar,” Islamic Law and Society, 3 (1996), 192-224, at 224. 93) Nizam al-Shaykh, Al-Fatawi al-Hindiyya (Beirut: Dar al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 2000), vol. 2, 3; see also Muhammad Qasim Zaman, e ‘Ulama’ in Contemporary Islam, Custodians of Change (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2002), 20-1. 94) See, for example, Yossef Rapoport, “Legal Diversity in the Age of Taqlid: e Four Chief Qadis Under e Mamluks,” Islamic Law and Society, 10 (2003), 210-22, at 210; Emile Tyan, Histoire de l’organisation judiciaire en pays d’Islam (2nd revised ed., Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1960), 138-42; Joseph N. Escovitz, “e Establishment of four chief Judgeships in the Mamluk Empire,” Journal of the American Oriental Society, 102 (1982), 529-31; Jorgen S. Nielsen, “Sultan al-Zahir Baybars and the Appointment of four Chief Qadis, 663/1265,” Studia Islamica, 60 (1984), 167-76; Sherman Jackson, “e Primacy of Domestic Politics: Ibn Bint al- Aʿazz and the Establishment of the Four Chief Judgeships in Mamluk Egypt,” Journal of the American Oriental Society, 115 (1995), 52-64. 90) M. Abou Ramadan / Islamic Law and Society 15 (2008) 84-111 111 And then there is the preferential position that the Ottoman state gave to the Hanafi school.95 e interference of the state in the religious field reached its peak in the process of codification of the shari‘a. Some scholars view this process as evolutionary; others, as the end of Islamic law.96 Even if Islamic law is no longer taken to be a jurist’s law, however, the ‘ulama’ and their doctrines have not lost all their power and influence in the Muslim world.97 Common to all Islamic religious fields is a clear delineation from other social (and legal) fields; various social agents–‘ulama’, muftis, government officials and legislators–compete in each and every field over resources and power. In Israel, however, the replacement of the ‘ulama’ establishment by the shari‘a courts has created a doctrinal vacuum. us, the Israeli shari‘a field stands out from all other fields examined and referred to in this article. Salim Rustum Baz al-Lubnani, Sharh al-majalla (Beirut: Dar al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 1986), 1169-70. 96) Aharon Layish, “e Transformation of the Shari‘a From Jurists’ Law to Statutory Law in the Contemporary Muslim World,” Die Welt des Islams, 44: 1 (2004), 85-113. 97) On the role of ‘ulama’ in contemporary Muslim world see Muhammad Qasim Zaman,” ‘Ulama’ in Contemporary Islam”. 95)