Abstract
I adopt a post-Eurocentric approach to examining Islam within the context of the world system, focusing on the rise of commercial capitalism in Cairo during the thirteenth century. I explore the historical intersection of Islamic contributions to the cultural renaissance, rational theology, and the development of legal schools in Baghdad under the Abbasid Caliphate. The study then compares this period with the Ottoman Empire, where religious law coexists with secular law, with the former subordinated to bureaucratic administration. Based on this comparative research, I critically engage with Max Weber’s fragmented evaluation of Islamic legal thought.
Post-Eurocentric Position
In discussing Islam and the religious construction of sociocultural reality, I extend this theoretical framework to a world systems approach, examining Islam and economic development in the context of the commercial revolution of the thirteenth century.
A systems analysis of the global economy, combined with correlation, allows for a deeper exploration of the connection between the cultural Renaissance and the Enlightenment within Islamic civilization. This historical trajectory diverges significantly from the European dialectic of Enlightenment, capitalist modernity, and global colonialism.
To address the limitations of Eurocentrism, Samir Amin proposed a tributary world system, dividing core and peripheral regions. This system spans from 500 BCE through the periods of Hellenism, the rise of Christianity, and the emergence of Islam, up to 1500 CE. All tributary cultures are characterized by the primacy of metaphysical and religious aspirations in the pursuit of absolute truth.
Amin’s model contrasts with the Marxist periodization of world history—which includes the Asiatic, slave, feudal, capitalist, socialist, and communist stages—by emphasizing a tributary pre-capitalist world system. Throughout history, tributary ideology was already evident in the achievements of ancient Egypt. Hellenistic, Eastern Christian, Islamic, and Western Christian cultures each embodied the ideological expressions of the tributary mode of production and religious worldview.[1]
However, the theory of the tributary system tends to overlook the dialectical relationship within the historical cycles of capital accumulation and the diverse forms of capitalism. It also downplays the crucial role of the commercial revolution as a capitalist foundation for the later industrial revolution.
To adopt a genuinely post-Eurocentric perspective, it is necessary to revise Amin’s tributary system by incorporating the European commercial revolution, particularly the centuries from 950 to 1350. This period—often referred to as the commercial world system—preceded the emergence of the modern capitalist world system (1450–1640) and laid important groundwork for it. During this earlier phase, a vast international trade economy developed, extending from northwestern Europe to China.
Europe’s economic expansion can be understood through the lens of the commercial revolution, which was closely linked to the Crusades (1095–1291), the Byzantine Empire, the Muslim world, the Mongol Empire (1206–1368), and the Hanseatic League (established as a network of cities and merchant communities in 1356). These interconnected elements within the broader world economic system helped forge a continuum between the medieval period and the rise of modern capitalism, culminating in nearly a thousand years of sustained medieval economic growth.[2]
Indeed, commercial modes of production cannot be subsumed under the broader frameworks of the tributary system or the feudal mode of production. In fact, a capitalist world economy began to take shape in thirteenth-century Italy, particularly with the Florentine innovation in banking networks within the sphere of high finance.
These networks were grounded in the wool industry and the expansion of trade in the late thirteenth century. By the mid-fifteenth century, Genoa had emerged as a precursor to modern financial capitalism, largely through its alliance with the new crusade led by Portugal and Spain—the centuries-long series of military campaigns known as the Reconquista—in their pursuit of the New World. The European colonial empires further reinforced Genoa’s systemic cycle of capital accumulation, extending well into the late sixteenth century.[3]
This perspective suggests a structural rupture in commercial capital, particularly in relation to merchant banking, the textile industry, and global trade. According to Janet Abu-Lughod, one of the leading sociologists in world systems theory, scientific knowledge is socially constructed through collective definitions that reflect human consensus about the world. A pre-modern world system, which spanned across Eurasia, existed in the 13th century, long before the formation of the modern world system.
This is particularly evident in the Mamluk Sultanate in Cairo, where the lights of civilization still shone brightly in the Middle East. Cairo was one of the key focal points in a highly developed system of urban civilization, connected to the Mediterranean world through Alexandria, the Red Sea, and further linked to the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean.
By the thirteenth century, we observe an ‘efflorescence of cultural and artistic achievement,’ alongside the economic integration of various regions around the world. During this period, diverse economic systems coexisted, ranging from near-private capitalism with state support to near-state production with the assistance of private merchants.[4]
Cultural Renaissance under the Abbasid Empire
Drawing on a world-systems approach, I examine the genesis of Islamic philosophy and the cultural Renaissance, tracing their roots back to the illustrious era of the Abbasid Empire, founded in 750. The true origins of Islamic philosophy and its cultural revival can be found in the glorious epoch of the Abbasid Caliphate, with Baghdad becoming the ‘Rome’ of its time. As the seat of the Abbasids, the city was not only the central hub of the Islamic world but, in many ways, the most cosmopolitan city in the Mediterranean.
Between 750 and 850, cosmopolitan Baghdad was the birthplace of Islamic philosophy and the epicenter of a profound cultural renaissance. This era was defined by the translation of Greek philosophical works into Arabic. Islamic philosophical humanism absorbed Greek scientific and technical knowledge, advancing key fields such as medicine, mathematics, astronomy, agronomy, and military technology.[5]
Cosmopolitan Baghdad emerged as an unparalleled global center of both commerce and intellectual exchange. The Arab and Persian knowledge from the East continues to shape our understanding of the world economy’s interconnectedness, which was foundational to Baghdad’s prosperity, particularly through its role in the Gulf trade routes. These routes would later benefit European powers, long after the Crusades.[6]
Baghdad was a true world city during its golden age, with sea routes linking it to the Far East, as meticulously detailed by Muslim sailors, geographers, and scholars. These connections played a crucial role in establishing the linkages of the world economy. Baghdad also served as the cradle of Islamic philosophy and the nucleus of a cultural renaissance, characterized by the translation of Greek philosophical texts, scholarly activity, and a flourishing intellectual lifestyle.
Situated near Ctesiphon, the capital of the Persian Sassanids, the new caliphate was modeled on the pre-Islamic autocratic systems, resembling an absolute monarchy. Nestorian (Church of the East) and Jacobite (Syriac Orthodox or Monophysite) Christian intellectuals had already made significant contributions to the Academy of Gundeshapur, an important center of learning under Khosrow I (531–579) of the Sasanian Empire. Their work continued at the House of Wisdom (Bayt al-Hikma), established in Baghdad during the Islamic Golden Age. These scholars translated numerous medical, philosophical, and theological treatises from Greek into Syriac, further advancing intellectual exchange.
By the time of Caliph Harun al-Rashid (786-809), this transformation was complete, despite its apparent contradiction with Islamic principles. The caliphate reached its peak under his rule, ushering in an era of unprecedented peace and prosperity.[7]
Harun al-Rashid was a notable patron of the arts and scholarship, inspiring significant cultural and civilizational achievements. During the Abbasid period, the politics of religious toleration were firmly established, particularly for the Jewish community, which enjoyed judicial autonomy and exemption from military service. Codified by the Pact of Omar (circa 800 CE), Jewish life flourished despite certain restrictions.[8]
Under the Umayyads, each town developed its own distinct fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence), but the Abbasids sought to compel jurists to create a more unified system of law. This period saw the emergence of a distinct class of ulama (religious scholars), with judges (qadis) undergoing more rigorous training. Both Caliph al-Mahdi (744-785) and Caliph al-Rashid played significant roles in promoting the study of law, becoming patrons of fiqh and fostering its development.
The nature of Muslim life had undergone a dramatic transformation since the time of the Qur’an. With the encouragement of conversion to Islam, the dhimmis (non-Muslim subjects) had become a minority. Nevertheless, dhimmis played a vital role in the intellectual flourishing of the period, particularly through their translation of classical Hellenistic philosophical and medical texts from Greek and Syriac into Arabic. Meanwhile, industry and commerce thrived, contributing to the overall prosperity of the caliphate.[9]
Islam significantly surpassed Latin Christianity during the so-called Dark Ages, which spanned from the 5th to the 10th centuries following the fall of Rome. “In a broad sense, the barbarian age lasted until the tenth century in the parts of western Europe where the tide turned sooner, and, in other parts, until the twelfth or even the fourteenth.”[10]
The court of Caliph al-Mansur (754–775), the second Abbasid caliph, became a hub for Muslim theologians and traditionalists, as well as for Christian and Jewish scholars.
By the end of Harun al-Rashid’s reign, the caliphate was already in decline. Some peripheral provinces, such as Spain, were beginning to break away, with an exiled Umayyad establishing a rival dynasty in 756. Al-Rashid tried to address the challenges of territorial governance and economic decline by dividing the empire between his two sons. However, this decision led to a civil war (809–813) after his death, fueled by personal ambition and a power struggle between the brothers.
Rational Theology and Legal Thought in Contrasting Developments
When al-Mamun emerged as the victor and began his reign (813–833), it became evident that two main power blocs had formed within the Empire: one being the aristocratic circle of the court, and the other an egalitarian and constitutionalist bloc rooted in the principles of the Shariah,[11]
Al-Mamun, an intellectual himself, was drawn to the rationalism of the Mu’tazilites. The Mu’tazilah adopted Greek philosophy and other sciences in a radically new way, reconciling Aristotelian thought with Quranic exegesis for the first time. Key figures of the Mu’tazilite school, such as Abu l-Hudhayl (752–842) and an-Nazzam, did not discard the Quran but used it as the foundation for their rational theology, known as kalam.
Under the patronage of Caliph al-Mamun, the Mu’tazilites rose to power, and their teachings became the official doctrine of the Empire. They emphasized the transcendence, unity, and oneness of God, while countering the uncreated nature of the Quran. Central to their thought was the prioritization of human reason, free will and moral autonomy. Their doctrine became the dominant orthodoxy of the time, emphasizing the belief in the created nature of the Quran.
In the development of legal interpretation, the system of law (fiqh) is based on four core principles, known as Usul al-fiqh (Principles of Jurisprudence): the Qur’an, the Sunna, reasoning by analogy (qiyas), and consensus of the community (ijma). The primary source of Islamic law is the Qur’an, accepted at face value. If the Qur’an does not provide clear rules on a particular legal question, one turns to the example of the Prophet, or his Sunna (report, tradition).
By the beginning of the eighth century, people began to collect the hadith (‘report,’ ‘tradition’) of the Prophet’s actions regarding ritual, food, clothing, and both moral and religious concerns through oral traditions. An enormous mass of sayings and traditions was in circulation. In the ninth century, the great collections of hadith were compiled, most notably through the work of al-Bukhari (d. 870), who investigated the authenticity of the texts. He carefully examined the texts and their chains of narration (isnad), traveling across Central Asia to Mecca, Medina, and Egypt. The hadith thus became the second source of Islamic jurisprudence after the Qur’an, serving as a commentary on specific surahs within the Qur’an.
The legal schools of thought argued rationally through consensus, referring to the companions of the Prophet for their authority. In contrast, those who adhered to the hadith tradition rejected their logical methods in both theological and legal matters, instead directly referencing the higher Sunna of the Prophet. The Shi’a, on the other hand, excluded any hadith that could not be attributed to Ali and his followers. Ultimately, the Qur’an and the hadith have come to be regarded as sources of equal rank in guiding the orientation and life of Muslims.[12]
The recorded Sunna in the anecdotes concerning Muhammad’s actions (hadiths) sometimes contradict one another, leaving room for interpretation. From the ninth century onward, as several legal schools (madhhab, plural madhahib) developed, Muslim jurists have faced the challenge of balancing the Qur’an and the Sunna when addressing new situations.
This involved reasoning by analogy (qiyas) and consensus of the community (ijma). This system of independent legal reasoning to formulate new laws is called ijtihad.[13] The system of Islamic law, or Sharia, attempts to regulate and govern all aspects of Muslim’s life. However, a crucial issue remains: whether to place trust in the textual sources of the Qur’an and Hadith or in human reasoning by analogy.
The Maliki school, represented by Malik ibn Anas (710–795), has traditionally been most influential in North Africa (Maghreb). It emphasizes strict observance of the Sunna and considers the dynamic, living interpretation of the Sunna within the consensus of the community to be more reliable than human reason.
In contrast, the Hanbali school, founded by Ahmad ibn Hanbal (780–855), who studied with al-Shafi‘i, emphasized a more literalist approach to the Qur’an and hadith. Ahmad ibn Hanbal felt that al-Shafi‘i left too much room for personal reflection and individual judgment. The Hanbali school was later adopted by the Mamluk theologian Ibn Taymiyyah in the fourteenth century and became central to the Wahhabi movement in Arabia in the eighteenth century. It was officially established as the dominant school with the rise of the Saudi family to power.[14]
The followers of Abu Hanifah (699–767), who believed it was essential for jurists to exercise independent reasoning (ijtihad), argued that they should have the freedom to create new laws, even if these could not be directly supported by a hadith or a Quranic verse.
Al-Shafi‘i (767–820) sought to mediate between the traditionalists and the jurists, such as Abu Hanifah, who insisted on the necessity of ijtihad. While al-Shafi‘i acknowledged that some degree of ijtihad was necessary, he argued that it should be confined to a strict analogy (qiyas) between the customs of the Prophet and contemporary practices.
The Shafi‘i and Hanafi schools together account for the majority of Sunni Muslims and have a wide distribution. Al-Shafi‘i considered the use of analogy in a more restricted sense, derived directly from the Qur’an or from a saying of the Prophet. However, al-Shafi‘I’s method was not designed to ensure the strict historicity of the Prophet’s Sunna according to modern standards of accuracy. The commands and laws of scripture could be understood in light of Muhammad’s words and actions. The Sunna is elevated to the level of the Qur’an, with prophetic traditions serving as a basis for juristic reflection. Yet, al-Shafi‘i insisted that each hadith must be reliably supported by a chain (isnad) of devout Muslims leading directly back to the Prophet himself. The Sunna cannot contradict any regulation of the Qur’an, while the Qur’an cannot refute any inspired regulation of the Sunna, as it is forbidden to contradict the hadith.[15]
Already in al-Shafi‘i’s time and during the following century, a vast number of hadiths had become available, contributing to differences of opinion. This proliferation of hadiths led to the cessation of orderly growth, subordinating analogy, independent opinion, and consensus to the Sunna in legal thought, as well as in religious thought more generally. This stagnation formed the backdrop against which Islamic law was developed. The theology that took shape during the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries came to define the defense of the foundations of Islamic law in its most dominant and enduring form—Ash‘arism. [16]
The Shafi‘i legal school remains crucial in influencing theologians such as al-Ash‘ari and al-Ghazali, shaping the dominant theological and legal position that has guided most Muslims.
Al-Ash‘ari and Traditional Theology
An important figure in this intellectual process was Abu al-Hasan al-Ash‘ari (873/4–935/6), who initially followed the theology of the Mu‘tazilites but later disputed it, advocating for the authority of the Hadith. Born in Basra, Iraq, and later passing away in Baghdad, al-Ash‘ari employed rational arguments and philosophical reasoning, drawn from the Mu‘tazilites, to defend Islamic doctrines and their traditional position, which found followers in the al-Shafi‘i school of law. However, he distinguished his approach from that of the traditionalist school, which adhered strictly to textual literalism.[17]
The Mu‘tazilites were deeply concerned with anthropomorphic conceptions of God and denied that the divine possessed any human attributes. Al-Ash‘ari shared this concern but argued that God’s attributes were distinct from human qualities. The Qur’an, in his view, was God’s uncreated speech, but the human expression of it—found in the ink and paper of the book—was created.
In al-Ash‘ari’s view, there were no natural laws, as the world was constantly ordered through God’s direct intervention at every moment. Moreover, he denied the concept of free will, asserting that all actions were the result of God’s continuous involvement in the world.
The Qur’an is the speech of God—an eternal and uncreated attribute of the Divine—while rational discourse continued to be employed to defend and articulate traditional beliefs. The main elaborator of Ash‘arite doctrine, al-Baqillani in the tenth century, even rejected causality, officially requiring Muslims to abandon belief in natural law.
According to Fazlur Rahman, the intellectual stagnation in the Muslim world began long before the destruction of the caliphate. Ash‘arism gradually established its dominance, reaching its culmination in the work of al-Ghazali (1058–1111), who became the foremost representative of the dogmatic school that came to define the creed of the vast majority of Sunni Muslims.
However, in the broader scope of Islamic spiritual and intellectual life, the followers of Hanafi al-Maturidi held more rational views than Ash‘arite theology. Yet, over time, Ash‘arism ultimately overshadowed and displaced these more reasoned approaches within medieval Islam.[18]
Patrimonialism and Bureaucratic Administration in the Ottoman Empire
Since the sixteenth century, the Hanafi school has largely replaced the Shafi‘i school as the most influential legal tradition in the Islamic world. As we have examined, under the caliphate of al-Ma’mun, the House of Wisdom (Bayt al-Hikma) emerged as the first true institution of higher learning, both in the Islamic world and, arguably, in the Western world. Non-Muslims, including Christians, Jews, and Hindus, were valued as vital contributors and collaborators in the flourishing of Islamic civilization. Arabic served as a lingua franca, facilitating intellectual and cultural exchange across diverse communities.
According to Hodgson, what is particularly remarkable about this integrative process is the role of those who carried the religious vision and held strategic positions within society. By doing so, they defined their way of life within the broader civilization, notably within its high culture. In this sense, a civilization is truly expressed and defined, achieving its most meaningful form.[19]
Given this position, Karen Armstrong’s argument remains less convincing: “The Abbasid caliphs and their court had never been truly Islamic institutions; they had not been subject to the laws of the Shariah and had evolved their own worldly ethos… while the Ottoman Empire was run entirely on Shariah lines.”[20]
On the contrary, a cosmopolitan civilization, which patronized the legal studies, finds its Islamic orientation on the line of Shariah, while the Ottoman Empire developed the secular law alongside the religious law (the Hanifi legal school) that was subordinated to the authority of the sultan, the protector of the law.
In 1453, under Mehmed (Muhammad) II, “the Conqueror” (r. 1451- 81), the Ottomans put an end to the Byzantine Empire, capturing Constantinople (now known as Istanbul). Under its new name – Istanbul – the sultans established an absolute monarchy, on the Byzantine model, and became the new Ottoman capital.
By the turn of the sixteenth century, the jihad was successful and the campaign of Selim I (1467-1520) was accomplished against the Safavids through a victorious war of conquest. Ottoman forces had subdued rival Muslim rulers in the region. Their Seljuk cousins were ousted from Syria and Egypt, as accomplished by Sultan Selim II (r. 1512–20). By 1517 they had swept away the remaining impediments to Ottoman dominance in the Arab world, including the conquest of Syria and Egypt.
The name of the Ottomans came to symbolize hope for a reunified Islamic Empire; the nominal Abbasid caliph in Cairo began to call the Ottomans sultans of Islam. They expanded Ottoman sovereignty in North Africa and Arab, establishing naval superiority in the eastern Mediterranean, further in the Balkans – including Serbia, Bosnia, and Albania, as well as Crimea. The Ottomans have managed to reunify former Byzantine lands under their banner.[21]
For the discussion of patrimonial dominion versus a bureaucratic legal system in the Islamic context, it is crucial to address the relationship between secular and religious laws within the Ottoman Empire, which differed significantly from the Baghdad model.
According to Ottoman claims, the last Abbasid caliph transferred the rights to the caliphate to them. Selim’s only surviving successor, Suleiman, became ‘the Lawgiver’ (r. 1520–66). Suleiman’s predecessors had already established a stable administration, replacing the traditional practice of granting land for service with uniform taxation across Ottoman domains. Under Suleiman’s rule, the empire reached the limits of its territorial expansion, and Istanbul enjoyed a cultural renaissance, notably marked by superb architecture, most famously through the court architect Sinan Pasha (d. 1578).
By the end of Suleiman’s reign, the Empire had expanded to include Libya and Algeria (with Tunisia joining later). To Europeans, Suleiman became known as ‘the Magnificent,’ and by 1529, his army was besieging Vienna.
In a move toward the modern era, the Ottomans developed a legal system that enforced Islamic law while simultaneously retaining the right to issue their own laws for matters not yet addressed in Islamic religious courts. Islamic law, identified as Shariah, was applied alongside Ottoman law, known as Kanun (Arabic: qanun). Shariah law was primarily concerned with ritual and personal matters, leaving secular law and the Ottoman bureaucracy to develop legal systems for administrative, commercial, and other vital governmental concerns.
This secular legal administration also provided non-Muslim religious communities—Jews and Christians—with rights and protections, thus precluding grounds for religious discrimination.[22]
According to Armando Salvatore, however, the process of modern state formation within the Islamic civilizational framework is lacking, even in the case of the Ottoman Empire, due to its fully autonomous legitimation and radical centralization of power. This centralization hindered the development of individual rights, as framed within that form of power and social contract theory, which aims to protect and promote individual property.[23]
A Rejoinder: Max Weber and Islam
According to Weber, the religion of Muhammad is fundamentally political in its orientation, with a program of social action. Muhammad’s position in Medina, he argues, was akin to that of an Italian podesta (the chief magistrate of a city-state in central and northern Italy during the Late Middle Ages) or of Calvin in Geneva. Initially a merchant and later a leader of pietistic conventicles in Mecca, Umar (584-644), the second caliph, carried out this program consistently, orienting his efforts entirely toward the psychological preparation of adherents for battle or jihad, with the aim of maintaining a maximum number of warriors for the Islamic faith. His realization of the need to organize the interests of warrior clans led him to understand that the acquisition of booty was the external basis supporting his missionizing efforts.[24]
In contrast to Weber’s understanding, however, all aspects of daily life were virtually governed by Islamic law, which was articulated and administered by legal scholars operating largely independently of the central government. This system was sustained through charitable foundations (waqf), which helped preserve the autonomy and independence of these scholars. This arrangement represents a unique articulation between charismatic dominion and legal dominion, a relationship that remains central to the Islamic model of civil society.[25]
In the ninth century, the great collections of hadith were compiled, beginning with those initiated by al-Bukhari (d. 870), who produced one of the six canonical collections of hadith in Sunni Islam (often referred to as the Six Books). This was followed by five other canonical hadith collections. While these six collections are widely accepted by Sunni Muslims, variations exist in their perceived order of authenticity across different schools of thought (madhabs), which may require some criticism or rejection of certain hadith from the sixth collection.
Shari’ah (Islamic law) is derived from religious precepts, particularly from the Quran and the Hadith. In the Sunni tradition, hadith refers exclusively to the sayings of the Prophet, while in the Shiite tradition, a ‘Prophetic saying’ is distinguished from the sayings of the Imams.[26]
Throughout this period, the ulama, comprising both theologians and legal scholars, formed law schools supported by patrons and followers rather than the state. Muslim civilization thus became a civilization of fiqh (the Arabic term for theological and legal science). Religious discourse cannot be solely explained by military coercion or the concept of a national ‘warrior religion,’ as defined by Max Weber.[27]
Religious virtuosos like the ulama played a significant role in shaping and influencing everyday life. Islam should be understood as a religion of power, which contrasts sharply with the notion of a warrior religion defined by violence and plundering.
Religious scholars, alongside the Sufis, played a crucial role in the Islamization of the Middle East, transforming both its society and the broader Islamic civilization. They “sought to embed Islamic values and identities into an already complex civilization, aiming to reshape that civilization in line with their own ethos and interests.”[28]
The Sufis, as mystically inclined spiritual adepts, had a significant influence on the masses through their sectarian associations. Three key realms—namely, the community of ulama, the Sufi orders, and the pious endowments (waqfs)—formed an early public sphere of autonomy, allowing for a diversity of opinions within Islamic societies.[29]
This perspective challenges Weber’s definition of Islam as a warrior religion and further critiques his classification of Islamic rule merely as patrimonialism or Sultanism, where all subordinates are directly tied to the system of rulership, with the ruler personally compensating them.[30]
Nonetheless, Weber’s theory of patrimonial bureaucracies may find some support in recent historical research, particularly studies on the institutionalization of rulership under the Mughals of India, which confirm Weber’s references to the existence of patrimonialism in the Muslim world.[31]
In Weber’s framework, the roots of rational juristic thinking, grounded in the Indian Mimamsa School, can be traced further in the development of ancient juristic thought within Islam. However, these roots were unable to prevent the concept of rational law from being overshadowed by theological forms of thought. As a result, legal procedures in both India and Islamic contexts have not been fully rationalized. In contrast, such rationalization occurred in the West primarily through the adoption of ancient Roman jurisprudence by Italian jurists.[32]
The task of legal interpretation was considered complete by the end of the ninth century, marking the closing of the gates of independent reasoning (ijtihad). This led to a halt in the introduction of new legal principles and structures. Rational theology and legal thinking were gradually subsumed by traditional theology and legal schools, following the historical line of al-Shafi‘i, al-Ash‘ari, and, ultimately, al-Ghazali.
Although Islamic law is less systematic than European law, the fuqaha (jurists) were driven by legal rationality and developed a legal system that sought to maximize consistency between the ethical injunctions of the Quran, the sayings of Muhammad (the Sunna), and the fatwas issued by individual religious scholars. Analogy (qiyas) was employed in the fashioning of fiqh, the legal science of religious knowledge, rather than relying on personal opinion or individual discretion.[33] This tradition later influenced Islamic modernism and the reform movement.
In the Ottoman Empire, kanun (secular laws) coexisted with Hanafi jurisprudence, governing various aspects of life. The empire addressed administrative, financial, and taxation regulations, as well as economic and criminal matters, while supplementing and clarifying Sharia law. The sultan, as the protector of the law—exemplified by Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent (1520-1566), also known as Kanuni or the ‘Lawgiver’—held the authority to codify kanun as needed to maintain order in the state and society. This was to ensure justice in governance, taxation, and social stability within a diverse and expanding empire.
This perspective contrasts with Weber’s view of sultanism as part of traditional patrimonialism based on authority. Consequently, political instability often resulted from this system of sultanism.[34] Weber defines sultanism as an extreme form of traditional patrimonialism, within which political structures include a military composed of slaves, conscripts, and coloni, reinforcing the arbitrary nature of personal rulership.[35]
Given this, axiality of Islam in Weber’s sociology is constrained, even wrongly assumed in his excessive view of the impact of imperial politics over piety and faith.[36] The axial age was an age of criticism and alternative path. I think, such axiality may be found in cultural renaissance and philosophical enlightenment in Baghdad as well as in the Ottoman’s bureaucratic administration.
In fact, the Ottomans did not belong to the Shariah state, rather the ulama became dependent upon the state to endorse the system of absolute monarchy; government officials, the sultan and his pashas controlled them.
Nonetheless, there were legal expert-the qadis, who dispensed justice in the courts, their consultants (muftis), who interpreted the law, and the teachers in the madrasahs. They became an official government corps, creating a moral and religious link between the sultan and his subjects.
Actually, the kanun played a crucial role in shaping the legal and administrative landscape of the Ottoman Empire, offering a framework for managing the empire’s diversity through secular regulations. This political system reflects the evolution of the Ottoman bureaucracy, which transformed from a purely patrimonial structure into a legally autonomous organization, operating within a relatively rational system. In doing so, it even served to limit the sultan’s patrimonial authority.[37]
From the 15th century onward, the kanun reflected a well-established bureaucratic and administrative system within the Ottoman legal framework. While retaining a strong patrimonial character, it operated in a dynamic relationship with the Sultan’s authority and religious law.[38]
This research challenges Weber’s limited view of the patrimonial system in the Ottoman Empire, which undermines its bureaucratic-administrative structure. It demonstrates a nuanced articulation between the patrimonial system and bureaucratic legal authority—an articulation that is not sufficiently captured by a purely formalistic distinction between patrimonial rule and bureaucratic administration.
Weber argued that Muhammad constructed the commandment of jihad, which involved the subjugation of unbelievers to political authority and their economic domination. Since they were members of the ‘religions of the book,’ their survival was considered desirable due to their potential financial contributions. This Islamic practice can be compared with the Christian concept of religious war, based on the Augustinian formula coge intrare (compel them to enter); unbelievers or heretics were given the choice between conversion and extirpation.
This is evident in Pope Urban II’s call to crusaders for territorial expansion and the acquisition of new benefices for future generations. In contrast, for Muslims, religious war was primarily an enterprise aimed at acquiring large tracts of land, driven by a feudal interest in property and territorial control.[39]
This view reinforces Weber’s portrayal of Islam as a putative method of violent propagation, framing it as a martial religion and thereby losing its character as an ethical religion of salvation. Despite the violent propagation of the true prophecy, the purpose of jihad was not primarily conversion, but the universal spread of Islamic political domination.[40]
Weber’s evaluation may find its validity in the historical trajectory of Islam’s universalization for world governance. Over time, a universal Islamic state was organized based on the Medina model, later embodied by movements that often relied on political and military authority, driven by an ideology of integralism and an anti-Western attitude. In a similar vein, Abul Ala Maududi (1903-1979), described by Wilfred Cantwell Smith as the most systematic thinker of modern Islam, was influenced by Ibn Taymiyyah (1263-1328), a proto-Salafi theologian. Maududi sought to bring all of South Asia—and eventually the entire world—under Islamic authority through the full implementation of Sharia and the spread of Islamic political domination.[41]
[1] Amin, Eurocentrism, 100, 111.
[2] Robert S. Lopez, The Commercial Revolution of the Middle Ages, 950-1350 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976), Vii.
[3] Giovanni Arrighi, The Long Twentieth Century: Money, Power and the Origin of Our Times (London and New York: Verso, 2010), 118-9.
[4] Ibid., 355,
[5] Küng, Islam, 257.
[6] Abu-Lughod, Before European Hegemony, 146.
[7] Bloom and Blair, Islam, 124-5.
[8] Pact of Omar is a treaty between Muslims and Christians, with listing privileges, agreement, and limitations; it applied to Jews, too. Dan Cohn-Sherbok, Judaism: History, Belief and Practice (London and New York: Routledge, 2003), 140.
[9] Armstrong, Islam, 55-56.
[10] Lopez, The Commercial Revolution of the Middle Ages, 950-1350, 13.
[11] Ibid., 62.
[12] Kűng, Islam, 266-8.
[13] Elias, Islam, 48-9.
[14] Bloom and Blair, Islam, 57.
[15] Kűng, Islam, 272.
[16] Rahman, Islam & Modernity, 26.
[17] Kűng, Islam, 296-7.
[18] Rahman, Islam & Modernity, 27.
[19] Hodgson, The Venture of Islam, 90.
[20] Armstrong, Islam, 116.
[21] Sonn, Islam, 90.
[22] Ibid., 91.
[23] Salvatore, “The Reform Project in the Emerging Public Spheres,” Islam and Modernity, eds. M. K. Masud, et al., 189.
[24] Weber, The Sociology of Religion, 51.
[25] Sonn, Islam, 51.
[26] Seyyed H. Nasr, Islam: Religion, History, and Civilization (San Francisco: HarperOne, 2002), 56.
[27] Weber, The Sociology of Religion, 88.
[28] Max Weber and Islam, eds. Toby E. Huff and Wolfgang Schluchter (London and New York: Routledge, 1999), 5.
[29] Ibid.
[30] Ibid., 32.
[31] Ibid., 9.
[32] Weber, “Politics as a Vocation,” From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology, eds. H. H. Gerth and C. W. Mills (New York: Oxford University Press, 1968), 93.
[33] Max Weber and Islam, eds. Huff and Schluchter, 12.
[34] Weber, Economy and society. An Outline of Interpretive Sociology, vol.2 (Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 1978), 1020.
[35] Weber, Economy and Society, vol.1: 231-2.
[36] Robert Bellah and Hans Joas (eds), The Axial Age and Its Consequences (Cambridge Massachusetts and London: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2012).
[37] Halil Inalcik, “Comments on ‘Sultanism’: Max Weber’s Typification of the Ottoman Polity.” Princeton Papers in Near Eastern Studies 1 (1992); 48-72. See Colin Imber, The Ottoman Empire, 1300-1650: The Structure of Power (New York, 2002), 223.
[38] Ibrahim Mazman, Max Weber’s Ideal Types of Patrimonialism, Sultanism, and Bureaucracy: An Assessment in the Case of the Ottoman Empire (Turkey: Tűrkiye Alim Kitaplan, 2015).
[39] Weber, The Sociology of Religion, 87.
[40] Max Weber and Islam, eds. Huff and Schluchter, 7.
[41] Christian W. Troll, Dialogue and Difference: Clarity in Christian-Muslim Relations, trans. David Marshall (New York, Maryknoll: Orbis, 2009), 113.