Since the Taliban’s August 2021 return to power in Afghanistan, amid the collapse of the U.S.-backed Afghan government, questions have swirled around the kind of state that the group is building in the second iteration of its Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan. Is it the kind of state that will inevitably pose a threat to its neighbors and the international community, or is it one that will join the community of nations and be domesticated by the international system? Is it the kind of state that will reinstate a severe form of sharia, as it did in the past, persecuting women and meting our barbaric punishments, or is it one that will respect the rights of women and modern norms against cruel and unusual punishment? Perhaps most important of all, as far as the United States is concerned, is the question of international terrorism. Will it harbor terrorist groups such as al-Qaeda, as was the case before, or will it adhere to its commitments under the Doha agreement of February 2020 not to allow those groups to use Afghanistan as a base from which to threaten the security of the United States and its allies?1
When it comes to understanding the nature of the renascent Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan, perhaps the most relevant source—and one that has largely been overlooked—is the Arabic book on political theory by the Taliban’s top religious scholar, ‘Abd al-Hakim al-Haqqani. Published in April 2022 by the Kandahar-based publishing house Dar al-‘Ulum al-Shar‘iyya, the book is titled al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha, which can be translated as “The Islamic Emirate and Its System.” Announced on Twitter (now X) on April 23, 2022, the book, totaling some 300 pages in length, takes the form of an extended scholarly rumination on the nature and form of a proper Islamic state.2 Some of the discussion is on an abstract or theoretical level, while some relates directly to policy issues facing the Taliban, such as the question of women’s education. The announcement describes the author, ‘Abd al-Hakim, as “the supreme judge (qadi al-qudat) of the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan.” According to his son ‘Abd al-Ghani al-Maywandi, who serves as director of the Dar al-‘Ulum al-Shar‘iyya publishing house, ‘Abd al-Hakim wrote the book during his time in Qatar as head of the Taliban team that was then negotiating with the internationally recognized Afghan government, a post he was appointed to in September 2020. As his son relates, ‘Abd al-Hakim, anticipating the return of Taliban to its place as the country’s undisputed governing authority, conceived of the book as “a blueprint (musawwada) for the Islamic system that was present in [his] mind.”3 Evidently, ‘Abd al-Hakim was not seriously pursuing a political reconciliation with the official Afghan government. Instead, he was planning for the day after that government’s fall and its inevitable replacement by the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan.
The book, then, would have its intended role. In general, al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha can be described as a manual for the proper forming and running of an Islamic state, based on traditional Islamic sources pertaining to law and politics. As ‘Abd al-Hakim writes in the book’s introduction (pp. 17–19), the purpose of the Afghan people’s jihad against the Americans was not jihad for its own sake but “the standing up the Islamic state in Afghanistan” and “establishing God’s law” therein. In other words, resistance to the Americans and the U.S.-backed Afghan government was for the sake of achieving statehood. “The fundamental objective of jihad,” he affirms, “is enacting God’s law upon His servants on His earth.” If it were not for that objective, then it would only be about “destruction and infliction of pain.” The book’s aim is thus to help foster the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan as a statehood project. Accordingly, it sets out the duties and obligations incumbent upon the leader of the Islamic state as well as those of his subjects.4 It describes in detail the nature of Islamic government and legislation, the process of appointing the Islamic state’s ruler, the role of scholars and other notables in advising the ruler, the role of the armed forces, the education system, and the role and place of women in society. In treating these topics, ‘Abd al-Hakim draws not only on the foundational Islamic texts of the Quran and hadith but also on the exegetical, theological, and jurisprudential traditions of Islam. Whatever one thinks of its contents and conclusions, al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha is, in an objective sense, a learned treatise by a trained Muslim scholar steeped in the Islamic scholarly tradition.
In a brief preface to the book (pp. 5–6), the Taliban’s leader, Hibatallah Akhundzadah, who holds the title of Amir al-Mu’minin (commander of the believers), lavishes praise on ‘Abd al-Hakim as the Taliban’s chief religious authority, describing him as “the professor of the scholars, the chief of the jurists of the age, the mujahid in the path of God.” He similarly describes the book in the most laudatory of terms, calling it “important in sharia-guided politics, accurate in its enquiries and investigations, substantial in its evidence and proofs, elegant in its construction and signification, and powerful in its arrangement and substance,” adding that “it will illuminate the path for those concerned with politics by the light of its contents.” In view of this endorsement by the leader of the Taliban himself, ‘Abd al-Hakim’s al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha may well be taken as an official document, as the Taliban’s normative articulation of governance and politics in its reemergent state. The fact that it is a public document means that it will not tell us everything about the Taliban’s plans and thinking, but it nonetheless forms a window into the nature of the reemergent Islamic Emirate as conceived by its leading ideologue.
What follows is an analysis of the main features of ‘Abd al-Hakim’s text and a discussion of their potential implications. It is necessary to begin, however, with a brief examination of the author and his background in the Islamic tradition known as Deobandism, to which the Taliban adheres.
‘Abd al-Hakim al-Haqqani and Deobandism
Unlike the jihadis of al-Qaeda and the Islamic State, who identify with the Salafi movement in Sunni Islam, the Taliban is associated with a separate and distinct tradition in Sunni Islam known as Deobandism. Deobandism is a South Asian Islamic revivalist movement and network of seminaries named for the city of Deoband, India, where the first seminary in the movement was founded in 1867. Deobandis are known for their adherence to the Hanafi school of law, or madhhab (one of the four schools of law in Sunni Islam), the Maturidi school of rationalist theology (one of the two main schools of rationalist theology in classical Sunni Islam, the other being the Ash‘ari school), and certain forms of Sufism, as well as an emphasis on the study of hadith (recorded sayings of the Prophet Mohammed). Deobandism can take many forms, from the quietist preaching movement known as Jama‘at al-Tabligh to the militant activism of the Taliban.5 One way to understand Deobandism is by its contrast with Salafism.
Salafism, which can be traced to the teachings of Ibn Taymiyya and Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya of the fourteenth century and their successors in the Wahhabi movement in Arabia beginning in the eighteenth century, is a puritanical Sunni Islamic movement focused on purifying the religion of perceived “polytheistic” accretions and returning to the way of the “pious ancestors” (al-salaf al-salih), understood as the first three generations of Muslims.6 Salafis are fundamentalist in their hermeneutics, preferring to interface directly with the sources of revelation (the Quran and the hadith), and to the extent possible this is preferred to adherence to the teachings of a madhhab. Salafis, in other words, put little emphasis on madhhab partisanship, and this is even more so the case today than it was in the past, when most Salafis were associated with the Hanbali law school. Salafis are also opposed to the rationalist theology of Maturidism and Ash‘arism, whose theological approach is dialectical and influenced by the Greek philosophical tradition. The Salafi theological approach, as elaborated by Ibn Taymiyya, is focused on tawhid (God’s oneness) in the sense of directing all worship to God alone. Thus, for Salafis, calling on saints and prophets at grave sites, asking them for help in this world or the next, is seen as polytheism (shirk), as such supplication amounts to the worship of another being apart from God. The most militant Salafi response to these practices came in the eighteenth century from the Wahhabis, who declared takfir (excommunication) on fellow Muslims for participating in grave visitation and fought them as unbelievers.7 The jihadis, for their part, have added democracy and rule by positive law as forms of polytheism to be opposed through warfare.
Except for a shared emphasis on hadith, Deobandism is different from Salafism in all these dimensions: Deobandis adhere strongly, and proudly, to the Hanafi madhhab; they adhere to one of the schools of rationalist theology, Maturidism, which Salafis regard as a reprehensible innovation; and they are tolerant if not supportive of certain forms of Sufism, including sometimes the cult of saints denounced as heretical by the Salafis. It is telling that in another of his books, ‘Abd al-Hakim condemns the eighteenth-century Wahhabi movement as a terrible heresy, one that wrongly pronounced takfir on other Muslims—fighting and killing them as unbelievers. He even defends the legitimacy of the practices related to the cult of saints that the Wahhabis (and other Salafis) consider to be acts of unbelief and polytheism.8 In sum, whereas the Taliban, as Deobandis, are madhhab-oriented, rationalist in theology, and sympathetic to certain Sufi practices, Salafis are none of these things, and their puritanism sometimes veers into intolerance of Deobandi practices and beliefs.9
Like most Taliban religious scholars, ‘Abd al-Hakim was educated in an Islamic seminary system that reveals profound Deobandi influence. His education is brought out in the brief biography preceding the main text of al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha (pp. 10–15), written by his son al-Maywandi. According to the biography, ‘Abd al-Hakim was born in the village of Talukan in the Panjwayi district of Kandahar Province in 1956 or 1957 (1376 hijri). His father, a noted hadith scholar, was his first teacher, though ‘Abd al-Hakim entered into formal studies in 1976 in Zabul Province and then at the Dar al-‘Ulum al-Haqqaniyya seminary in Akora Khattak in northwestern Pakistan, where he studied from 1976 to 1980. Dar al-‘Ulum al-Haqqaniyya is a noted Deobandi seminary where many high-ranking members of the Taliban have studied. According to a former director of the seminary, “nearly 90 percent of Taliban leadership graduated from [the school].” As in the case of ‘Abd al-Hakim, the appellation Haqqani is often adopted as an honorific by the seminary’s graduates, a term connoting religious training and scholarly status.
Following graduation from the seminary, ‘Abd al-Hakim moved south to the Baluchistan province of Pakistan, where he spent nearly a decade teaching in a number of schools. After the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan in 1989, he returned to his home country to continue his teaching career, eventually taking a job in Kandahar at the request of the first Taliban leader, Mullah Omar. For three years, he taught at the Taliban’s key seminary in Kandahar, until the U.S. invasion in 2001 led him to seek refuge in Quetta, Pakistan. There, in 2003, he founded a seminary of his own, known as Dar al-‘Ulum al-Shar‘iyya, where he taught hadith for fourteen years in the role of “head of the Higher Administration of the Courts of the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan” until—as the biography claims—he was forced to give up teaching on account of American pressure related to his continued association with the Taliban.” Thereupon he turned his attention to writing, composing a number of books and treatises on different Islamic subjects. The works listed include several on hadith, on etiquette and morals (such as one on the proper approach to eating and drinking), and on a variety of legal issues including jihad.
Curiously, the biography neglects to mention ‘Abd al-Hakim’s role as head of the negotiating team in Qatar; nor does it describe his role in the Taliban under its current leader, Hibatallah Akhundzadah. Some of this information is supplied by the Taliban itself in a September 2020 statement announcing ‘Abd al-Hakim’s appointment as the head of the negotiating team. The English-language statement briefly described his background and role in the Taliban movement: “At the beginning of Islamic Movement of Taliban,” it states, “he was [a] close associate of the late leader of the faithful, Mullah Muhammad Umar Mujahid, and played a key role in founding the movement.” The statement further notes that during the time of Mullah Omar, ‘Abd al-Hakim “played an important role in setting up and structuring the current court system,” and that under Hibatallah he was appointed to the role of “chief justice,” i.e., qadi al-qudat, a role previously occupied by Hibatallah.10
The Nature of the Islamic State
The main text of al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha is divided into twenty-three chapters of varying length, which, along with the introduction, add up to 285 pages in all.11 The first eleven chapters of the book (pp. 20–57) are all fairly short and together form something of an introduction to the Islamic conception of the state.
The first chapter of the book (pp. 20-21) posits that there are two kinds of states in the world, those that exist for the purpose of self-enrichment (jibaya) and those that exist for the purpose of religious guidance (hidaya), their mission being “calling to God and commanding right and forbidding wrong”—in accordance, of course, with the teachings of Islam. The state of religious guidance is a rarity in the world. “Most of the governments of this age, or rather all of them,” ‘Abd al-Hakim asserts, “are governments of self-enrichment.”12 In the next chapter (pp. 22–24), on the obligatory features of an Islamic state, he notes that among the main purposes of the Islamic state is the application of God’s revealed law, the sharia, which “comprehends everything large and small in the affairs of God’s servants.”13 For him, an Islamic state is concerned above all with applying the sharia. “The Islamic state,” he writes, “is not valid without the application of the laws of the Quran and the sunna [i.e., the Prophet’s normative practice] in accordance with the understanding of the ancestors and the mujtahids,” the ancestors (salaf) meaning the first three generations of Muslims and the mujtahids meaning those eminent jurists in Islamic history with supreme knowledge of the texts of revelation.14 The role of the ruler in an Islamic state, ‘Abd al-Hakim states, is to apply the sharia and in this sense to subordinate himself to it. For God is the true source of political authority in Islam; the role of the leader is to heed God’s law. The third chapter is devoted to establishing the invalidity of positive law (al-qawanin al-wad‘iyya). Whosever rules not according to God’s law, ‘Abd al-Hakim states, is an unbeliever, and this applies to the head of state. A ruler who abandons Islamic law has apostatized and rebellion against him is obligatory.15 This is of course a common theme in the literature of the jihadi movement associated with al-Qaeda and the Islamic State. ‘Abd al-Hakim’s words here thus indicate a certain approval of that movement’s ambition to overthrow governments seen as failing to rule by Islamic law.
Nearby, in Chapter 5 (pp. 33–36), we are treated to a primer on the sources of Islamic law—principally the Quran, the hadith, analogical reasoning (qiyas), and consensus (ijma‘), which is a conventional elaboration for Sunni Islam though developed here with certain Hanafi characteristics.16 One noteworthy aspect of the Hanafi madhhab that ‘Abd al-Hakim invokes is the status of custom (‘urf) as part of law. So long as a people’s customs do not contradict the sharia, he notes in citing the traditional Hanafi view, then those customs constitute a valid source of law. This is one of the ways that ‘Abd al-Hakim justifies his opposition to the intrusion of Western, particularly American, mores and customs into Afghan society. The social and political practices imported from the West, he maintains, are contrary both to the sharia and to Afghan custom, and thus “it is necessary to extirpate them.”17 This justification is invoked later on to reject mixed education as well.18
Related to the issue of custom is ‘Abd al-Hakim’s claim in the following chapter (pp. 37–38) that the official school of law recognized by the government of Afghanistan ought to be the Hanafi madhhab. The great majority of Afghans have long adhered to the Hanafi madhhab, he says, and therefore the Afghan state ought to rule in accordance with it, no exceptions being made for adherents of other madhhabs. He even suggests, quoting a Hanafi legal compendium, that a person who adheres to the Hanafi madhhab and switches to another ought to be punished. The Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan, then, is to be a state where Islamic law is implemented in a generic sense but rather in accordance with the judgments found in the Hanafi legal tradition. ‘Abd al-Hakim evinces great pride in the Hanafi tradition, claiming that this is the best known of the four law schools and the one to which most scholars in Islamic history have belonged.
The idea that Islam is an inherently political religion is taken for granted here. In the author’s mind, it goes without saying that governance and statecraft are the business of Islam. “The religion of Islam is a comprehensive religion,” ‘Abd al-Hakim declares early on, and that includes the political realm.19 The example of the Prophet Muhammad as not only a preacher but also as a politician who founded and led a state and as a military leader who mounted and led military expeditions is frequently cited. So are the examples of his successors, the first four caliphs in Islam: Abu Bakr, ‘Umar, ‘Uthman, and ‘Ali. These are the so-called “rightly guided caliphs,” whose period of rule (632–661 A.D.) ‘Abd al-Hakim describes as “the practical application of Islam in full.”20 From their example comes the ideal Islamic polity, one in which a single leader, described most commonly as the imam (leader) or khalifa (caliph) in the Islamic legal literature, rules over a unitary, expansionary state, upholding Islam at home and spreading it abroad.
In all of this, ‘Abd al-Hakim is no doubt deeply influenced by what is known as the traditional theory or doctrine of the imamate in Sunni Islam, the dominant theory of Islamic politics in the premodern period.21 The theory of the imamate achieved its full formulation in the writings of several Iraqi scholars of the eleventh-century Abbasid Caliphate. The locus classicus of this theory is a book called al-Ahkam al-sultaniyya (The Laws of Governance) by the Iraqi Shafi‘i jurist al-Mawardi (d. 1058), as well as a title of the same name by his Iraqi contemporary Abu Ya‘la ibn al-Farra’ (d. 1066), a Hanbali scholar. Al-Mawardi was by no means the first to elaborate a theory of Islamic government; his achievement lay in moving the issues of political theory from the realm of abstract theological discourse to the realm of law. As Patricia Crone summarizes, it was thanks to al-Mawardi that “the imamate now came to be treated as a legal topic as well. Al-Mawardi collected the rules pertaining to all aspects of government—the imamate, vizierate, taxation, judgeship, holy war, the treatment of rebels, market inspection, and more besides—from a variety of genres and put them together in a single book.”22 Abu Ya‘la did much the same.23 As al-Mawardi’s work opens, “The imamate is established in succession to the prophetic office for the purpose of guarding the religion and presiding over the affairs of the world.”24 The imamate, according to these authors, is obligatory, singular, and expansionary. Appointing an imam is a religious obligation binding on the generality of the community; if there is no imam at a given time, it is a duty for the community to appoint one. Furthermore, there can only be one imam at a time, and among his duties is expanding the realm of the faith by means of jihad.
‘Abd al-Hakim, throughout his own book, has frequent recourse to these texts, as well as to numerous Hanafi sources treating the same topics. In offering a definition of the imamate, or “the greater imamate” (al-imama al-kubra)—in contrast with “the lesser imamate” (al-imama al-sughra) that refers to leadership in prayer—he quotes a book on Islamic politics by the South Asian Hanafi scholar Shah Wali Allah al-Dehlawi (d. 1762):
The greater imamate is the general headship of state concerned with establishing the religion by reviving the religious sciences, upholding the pillars of Islam, and undertaking jihad with all that pertains to it in terms of assembling armies, levying forces, and assigning them the war booty, as well as dispensing justice, applying the canonical penalties (hudud), removing grievances, and commanding right and forbidding wrong.25
Al-Haqqani cites a similar definition found in the famous creed of the Hanafi theologian Abu al-Mu‘in al-Nasafi (d. 1115), who underlines the fundamental importance of the imam in the lives of Muslims: “Muslims require an imam who will implement their laws, apply their canonical penalties, fortify their frontiers, prepare their armies, collect their alms, vanquish rebels, thieves, and brigands, oversee the Friday prayer and holidays […] and distribute the war booty.”26
Interestingly, despite drawing extensively on the theory of the imamate, ‘Abd al-Hakim does not see much difference in the various names for the state used throughout Islamic history, whether it be imamate (imamate),emirate (imara), caliphate (khilafa), state (dawla), sultanate (saltana), or government (hukuma). The important thing for him is that Islamic be part of the name. Similarly, he is not so concerned with distinctions between the various titles for the Muslim sovereign, whether he be known as imam (imam), caliph (khalifa), commander of the believers (amir al-mu’minin), king (malik), president (ra’is), sultan (sultan), governor (hakim), or the one with authority (wali al-amr), though he does favor commander of the believers as historically the best attested.27
‘Abd al-Hakim also does not shy away from building on the scholarly authorities he cites to offer his own formulation of what an Islamic state should look like. Thus in Chapter 4, titled “The Islamic Government” (pp. 30–32), he states that “the state and government in Islam” consist of six things: (1) a head of state, (2) an administrative apparatus, (3) civil laws, (4) an independent judiciary, (5) a powerful army, and (6) an authority tasked with commanding right and forbidding wrong.28 He is also not averse to invoking modern categories from Western political theory and relating these to concepts in the Islamic tradition. Thus, later on, in the longest chapter of the book, “The System of Rule in Islam” (pp. 159–227), he explains that every “Islamic government” consists of three “authorities”: executive, legislative, and judicial. The executive authority is the imam, his ministers, and all other officials serving them. He goes on to explain how the roles of defense minister, economics minister, education minister, interior minister, and chief judge all have a basis in the Islamic tradition. For instance, the function of the interior ministry corresponds to what Islamic law requires of spreading peace and security in society, including by enacting the hudud mentioned in the Quran, such as cutting off the hands of thieves and whipping fornicators and bearers of false witness.29 Likewise, the role of the qadi al-qudat in the Islamic tradition can be compared to the modern-day position of justice minister.30 In this way, ‘Abd al-Hakim shows a willingness to read traditional Islamic concepts into modern Western political ones, a practice that the more inflexible ideologues of jihadism have been less comfortable with.
Other chapters in the early part of the book cover the different types of flags and banners appropriate to the state and its army,31 the matter of freedom of speech (understood as the right to proclaim God’s truth and command right and forbid wrong, not to say whatever one pleases),32 and the importance of the state’s independence from foreign interference.33
The Imam and His Advisers
Following the first set of chapters is a second set (chapters 13–20) dealing primarily with the imam and those responsible for electing and advising him. In Chapter 14, ‘Abd al-Hakim sets out the required qualifications of the potential imam, drawing on the traditional theory of the imamate as well as on certain Hanafi sources.34 These qualifications include being Muslim, free (as opposed to enslaved), male, discerning, of adult age, capable of upholding the laws and protecting the lands, and free of physical handicaps (e.g., blindness, deafness, missing limbs) that could impede him from doing so. Another standard qualification, ‘Abd al-Hakim notes, is descent from the Prophet’s tribe of Quraysh, though he qualifies this by saying that the scholars are not in agreement about it, citing the dissenting opinion of al-Baqillani (d. 950). This is an important point, as no Taliban leader has ever claimed descent from Quraysh. By presenting the qualification of Qurashi descent as a disputed matter, ‘Abd al-Hakim effectively exempts the Taliban ruler from being a Qurashi, which in most of the literature on the imamate is a necessary qualification for being the imam.
Two further qualifications mentioned by ‘Abd al-Hakim are probity (i.e., not being sinful and immoral) and the ability to engage in ijtihad, or independent legal reasoning based on the sources of revelation. These, he says, are “qualifications of priority” in the Hanafi school, as opposed to “qualifications of necessity,” meaning that they are strongly preferred but not required. With regard to ijtihad, he notes that as the present age is one in which no mujtahid exists, a scholar who adheres to the teachings of his madhhab(‘alim muqallid)is sufficient.
As for the method of assuming office, ‘Abd al-Hakim describes three legitimate ways the imam can be appointed based on the example of the rightly guided caliphs, a framework adopted from the theory of the imamate.35 The first is election by a group of people known as “the people of loosening and binding” (ahl al-hall wa-l-‘aqd), who for ‘Abd al-Hakim are Muslim scholars and other influential or notable people in the community. Citing al-Mawardi, he stipulates three conditions for belonging to this group: (1) justice, (2) knowledge, (3) discernment enabling one to pick the best candidate.36 The second manner of appointment is designation by one’s predecessor. The third is election by a group of men selected by the imam for the purpose of choosing a successor from among themselves. These three methods of appointment correspond to the appointments of Abu Bakr, ‘Umar, and ‘Uthman, respectively. A fourth way an imam may emerge, as ‘Abd al-Hakim acknowledges, though it is the least preferred, is taghallub, or the seizure of power by force.
Once invested, the imam serves an unlimited term and cannot be deposed unless he commits flagrant unbelief.37 Such acts of unbelief include failing to implement Islamic law and instead applying the laws of unbelief.38 While a sinful imam should not be deposed, so long as he is capable of fulfilling his duties,39 an oppressive and unjust (ja’ir) imam may potentially be overthrown if the benefits outweigh the harms. First, however, the oppressive imam should be advised by the ahl al-hall wa-l-‘aqd to correct his course. If he does not listen, it then becomes legitimate to depose him, but only if doing so will not lead to greater corruption (mafsada akbar) in the community than his rule creates.40
As for the duties of the imam, ‘Abd al-Hakim enumerates these in terms of two general categories, drawing largely from the theory of the imamate though adding certain flourishes of his own.41 The first category is the notion of guarding the religion (hirasat al-din), in two senses: (1) preserving the correct form of Islam as revealed to the Prophet and practiced by his Companions, and, conversely, prohibiting innovators from spreading their heresies; likewise, supporting the scholars of truth, establishing religious schools, nurturing the Islamic sciences, and promoting religious education over modern education; (2) implementing God’s laws, adjudicating disputes, punishing wrongdoers, and eliminating corruptions.
The second general category is presiding over the affairs of the world accordance with the religion (siyasat al-dunya bi-l-din). This category admits of six components: (1) establishing justice among the people by treating all fairly and in accordance with what is their due pursuant to the sharia; (2) ensuring security in the land, including by imposing legal penalties against those who threaten the general security; (3) investing tax revenue is ways that benefit the country (e.g., building canals, bridges, factories, and roads); (4) delegating authority to the proper officials while remaining directly involved (indeed, the imam in the theory of the imamate is not a passive leader but an active one who personally oversees affairs of state); (5) preparing the military and securing the frontiers against external threats; and (6) collecting and distributing the war booty and alms in accordance with the sharia, as well as other sums from the treasury.
So long as the imam carries out his duties, his subjects, or his “flock” (ra‘iyya), are expected to defer to his authority, supporting him and carrying out his commands except in the event that the imam commands the commission of a sin.42 This is a classic Sunni formulation supported by well-known hadiths, including the following one quoted by ‘Abd al-Hakim: “Hearing and obeying are incumbent on a Muslim, both in what he likes and in what he dislikes, so long as he is not commanded to commit a sin. If he is commanded to commit a sin, then hearing and obeying are not obligatory.” In such a case, a subject may refrain from heeding the orders of the imam; he may also advise the imam—gently, respectfully, and privately—but he may not seek to rebel against him. In general, ‘Abd al-Hakim urges obedience and deference on the part of the subjects.
There is, however, in ‘Abd al-Hakim’s theory of state, a group of senior community members, the elite of society, who ought to play a greater role in advising the imam. These are the ahl al-hall wa-l-‘aqd, whom ‘Abd al-Hakim sees as primarily scholars, their job being to provide the imam with consultation (shura).43 “Shura is one of the essential foundations of the Islamic system,” he writes in a chapter on the subject (pp. 228–241), citing numerous sources to the effect that the imam ought to listen to and consult with the scholars in making decisions. In the case of a difficult matter, consultation with them is obligatory, though in no case is their advice binding on him. The imam is sovereign, restricted only by the bounds of the sharia. The purpose of consultation is to provide the imam with the full range of views on a given subject, not to dictate to him what must be done.44
The institution of shura in Islam, ‘Abd al-Hakim hastens to add, is not to be likened to the institution of representative democracy in the West. This is primarily for two reasons. The first is that a democratic system enshrines the rule of the majority, such that whatever the majority decides is enacted whether or not it contradicts the sharia. By contrast, “Islam does not take the majority as the measure of right and wrong.”45 In Islam, law is determined by God, not by the majority. As he writes elsewhere in the book, “The purpose of these elections is to appeal to the laws of men, whereas our appeal is to the laws of the Lord of men.”46 The second reason is that whereas in Islam the members of the shura must meet certain conditions (i.e., the conditions of the ahl al-hall wa-l-‘aqd), the representatives in a democracy can be anybody and do not even have to be Muslim.47 Indeed, elections in a democracy posit the equality of learned and unlearned, man and woman, believer and unbeliever, which is against Islamic teachings.48 It is not clear from the discussion of shura whether ‘Abd al-Hakim understands this in the sense of an established body of clearly identified individuals, but at one point he gestures in this direction, citing a modern authority who describes the role of the shura council (majlis shura) in an Islamic state as one that does not legislate but which seeks to find the judgment of God.49
At the end of this discussion, ‘Abd al-Hakim stresses that the Islamic state he envisions is one that admits of no mixing between Islam and unbelief: “Islam does not allow for any element of unbelief to enter into it, for that which is composed of both Islam and unbelief is unbelief unquestionably.”50 Yet despite this declaration, it is worth reiterating that ‘Abd al-Hakim is comfortable using terms and concepts borrowed from Western political theory, such as the division of the government into three branches. Moreover, unlike groups such as the Islamic State, he is not fundamentally opposed to engagement with the international community. One of the requirements of the ahl al-hall wa-l-‘aqd, he notes—though it is not required of all of them—is knowledge of international laws and agreements, as well as international relations and trade.51 (‘Abd al-Hakim, it may be noted, endorses a mercantilist philosophy, saying that state policy should be aimed at maximizing exports over imports.)52 Thus the state envisioned by the author is not necessarily one that rejects the outside world on grounds of cultivating Islamic purity. That being said, some of the discussion of jihad in the book indicates an outlook possibly at variance with established international norms and institutions.
Jihad
In the Islamic legal tradition, jihad in the sense of warfare admits of two basic types.53 The first is defensive jihad, which is fighting in self-defense against an outside force of invading unbelievers. In such a scenario, jihad becomes an individual duty (fard ‘ayn) on the mature male members of the community. The second type is offensive or missionary jihad, which is fighting for purpose of expanding the domain of Islam; unlike defensive jihad, offensive jihad is a collective duty (fard kifaya), meaning that so long as a sufficient number undertake it, the rest are dispensed from it. In the legal literature, this is termed jihad al-talab, or “the jihad of seeking,” meaning the jihad of seeking out the enemy in his territory for the purpose of spreading the rule of Islam. In the classical formulation, the unbelievers of the targeted territory are summoned to Islam, and if they refuse, they are to be fought until they submit. Once defeated, they may be offered to live as protected peoples who pay a special protection tax (jizya), though the imam has other options at his discretion—namely, execution, enslavement, and ransoming.
In the traditional theory of the imamate, the imam is obliged to sponsor offensive jihad, typically by mounting at least one expedition per year. The general requirement is noted in al-Mawardi’s al-Ahkam al-sultaniyya, where he writes that among the duties required of the imam is “waging jihad against those who refuse Islam after the summons, until they submit [i.e., convert to Islam] or enter into protection.” This line is quoted by ‘Abd al-Hakim in his al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha, in a brief section discussing the imam’s duties with respect to the armed forces.54 Similarly, in the section on the ministry of defense, ‘Abd al-Hakim writes that the soldiers who make up the military are mujahidin who fight solely for the purpose of “elevating God’s religion and supporting it … supporting God’s religion and defeating all religions that oppose it.”55 In a perfect world, then, ‘Abd al-Hakim’s Islamic state is one that wages jihad against unbelievers and other religions for the purpose of expanding the rule of Islam at the expense of the forces of unbelief. This is not an irenic vision but a triumphalist one. It is no surprise, given the traditionalist sensibilities of the Taliban, but it certainly contradicts the spirit of the UN Charter with its emphasis on “practic[ing] tolerance and liv[ing] together in peace” and its “principle of the sovereign equality” of all member states.56 The traditional theory of the imamate is simply not compatible with the modern international system. As ‘Abd al-Hakim writes, “the unbeliever is the enemy of God and the Muslims, and jihad was legislated [by God] for the purpose of destroying the unbelievers and exalting the true religion and making God’s word supreme.”57
The question also arises whether ‘Abd al-Hakim envisions the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan as the revival of the universal Islamic caliphate, which is what full adherence to the traditional theory of the imamate would entail. Declaring the caliphate is of course what the group known as the Islamic State did in the summer of 2014. Nowhere in the book does ‘Abd al-Hakim claim the distinction of the caliphate for the Taliban’s polity, but neither does he reject it outright. On this score there is plenty of ambiguity. At one point he notes that “the true cure [to oppression and tyranny] is striving to establish the pure Islamic caliphate that represents Islam in the true manner.”58 Does he mean by “pure Islamic caliphate” what those words immediately suggest, or does he mean merely a properly constituted Islamic state inspired by the theory of the imamate but ultimately reconciled to the modern international system? It is unclear. The leadership of al-Qaeda has presented the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan as the restored caliphate in all but name, but the Taliban has never accepted or rejected the idea.59 Perhaps ‘Abd al-Hakim is leaving open the possibility of claiming the caliphate at a later time.
In addition to offensive jihad, there are multiple reference in ‘Abd al-Hakim’s book to defensive jihad, though this is mixed up with another kind of jihad that might be described as liberationist—jihad in defense of freedom and the downtrodden. The jihad against the Americans and their clients, he explains, was defensive in nature, and in the present context the imam is obliged to prepare “a powerful army” that can safeguard the state against such foreign invasion.60 But this powerful army, he adds, has an additional role, which is “[to] defend freedom at home and abroad until worship is to the One God alone […] and [to] free the weak and the marginalized from the shackles of tyranny and oppression.”61 Here ‘Abd al-Hakim presents a more expansive approach to defensive jihad, which is one that aims to defend at home as well as abroad. It is an understanding of defensive jihad closer to what is advocated by al-Qaeda, which indulges similarly Third Worldist language about rescuing the oppressed from tyranny and the like.
Perhaps there is little significance to be drawn from this brief comment, but the fact that ‘Abd al-Hakim echoes al-Qaeda’s legal discourse of jihad is concerning. When it comes to the question of whether the Taliban might support a military force committed to “liberating” oppressed Muslims from governments seen as tyrannical and corrupt—i.e., whether it might lend support to al-Qaeda in its war against so-called apostate regimes in the Middle East and their foreign backers such as the United States—in this comment at least we have evidence in the affirmative. At the very least, ‘Abd al-Hakim signals here a certain sympathy with al-Qaeda’s ideological worldview.
Women and Education
The place of women in ‘Abd al-Hakim’s vision of the Islamic state is a rather limited one. Women may play no role in choosing the imam, and certainly a woman may not be the imam herself. Nor can women serve as ministers in the government.62 In ‘Abd al-Hakim’s telling, women are physically, cognitively, and spiritually inferior to men, and this is clear from both scripture and the centuries-long Islamic scholarly tradition. “A people will never prosper who are led by a woman,” he states on more than one occasion, quoting the famous hadith.63 Likewise he quotes God’s statement in the Quran, “Men are the managers of the affairs of women” (Q. 4:34).64 Much of the discussion of women in the book comes in the course of misogynistic digressions found in the various chapters. For instance, when discussing the qualifications of the imam, ‘Abd al-Hakim spends three pages explaining why the imam cannot be a woman on grounds of her inferiority, citing both her alleged inability to defend herself and to conduct military affairs as well as her alleged cognitive and spiritual deficiencies as he interprets from scripture and certain classical authorities.65 Similarly, in the chapter on the ahl al-hall wa-l-‘aqd, he takes up eight pages arguing that women cannot form part of the group on essentially the same grounds.66 If women do serve in government, he says, women should be restricted to doing “women’s work,” though exactly what this means is not clear.67 Elsewhere he notes that if a woman is to study subjects outside of religion, she should stick to subjects befitting her nature, such as sewing and medicine, and not those that do not suit her, such as chemistry and engineering.68 Presumably, then, women may take up professions suiting their nature as he understands it, becoming seamstresses and nurses. However, ‘Abd al-Hakim also indicates that women ought not to work outside the home at all. “Women were commanded to remain in the home,” he writes. “God made her place in the home and among her children.”69 This is in accord with the “the job given to woman by God as her nature,” which is “bearing children and raising them.”70 Women are further prohibited from leaving the home except for a purpose required by the sharia, and ‘Abd al-Hakim suggests that this does not include working and studying.71 Add to this the fact that he prohibits unrelated men and women from interacting, and the idea that women might work and study in any normal capacity becomes highly impracticable.
Two lengthy chapters at the end of the book are devoted to women specifically. These are “Women’s Learning and Instruction” (pp. 248–262) and “Mixed Education” (pp. 262–303). These come after a short chapter devoted to “Modern Education” (pp. 242–247), which argues that while modern subjects should not be excluded from education, primacy should be given to religious subjects.
In the first of the two women’s chapters, ‘Abd al-Hakim is at pains to show that he is not opposed to women’s education in principle, at least when it comes to the study of religion and those subjects that befit her (e.g., sewing and medicine). What he is concerned about is the method of women’s education, which ideally ought to be at home and by the instruction of a male relative (mahram) with charge of her. If she must leave the house, then it is best for her teacher to be a woman, though ‘Abd al-Hakim clearly prefers the first option of her staying at home. If the teacher cannot be a woman, then she ought to be concealed from the teacher by means of a barrier that shrouds her from view.72 This chapter is noteworthy as it shows ‘Abd al-Hakim weighing in on a subject of great controversy within the Taliban at this time, namely, whether women of a certain age ought to be able to receive an education outside the home. Instead of advocating a single position, he maps out several possibilities, ranging from the ideal (women learning at home) to the next most preferred (women learning from a female teacher) to finally the least preferred (women learning from a male teacher from behind a barrier). From here, he launches into a discussion of what women must conceal of their bodies if they do leave the house for instruction: Her clothing should be modest and loose-fitting, he says, covering everything but her face, hands, and feet, the covering of which is not required. Her clothing must not resemble men’s clothing or the clothing of female unbelievers, and she must not wear perfume.73 From this discussion it is clear that ‘Abd al-Hakim, at the time of his writing, was unsure what policy the Taliban would adopt regarding women’s education.
In the last chapter of the book, ‘Abd al-Hakim argues emphatically that mixed education is prohibited both by the sharia and by Afghan custom. The one caveat to this is that the prohibition does not extend to prepubescent girls; a girl who is not baligha, or “mature” (understood by ‘Abd al-Hakim as typically under nine years old), is exempt.74 The principal legal rationale cited for this opinion is the prohibition on ikhtilat, or the “mixing” of the sexes. “Calling to ikhtilat is calling to death,” ‘Abd al-Hakim warns.75 To show that this opinion is a well-established one, he quotes a fatwa issued at the request of the Afghan government in 1924, as well as fatwas by a number of Saudi scholars of the later twentieth century, including the Saudi kingdom’s former grand mufti ‘Abd al-‘Aziz ibn Baz (d. 1999).76 ‘Abd al-Hakim decries that the present era is one in which the fear of God has disappeared and nearly everyone has followed the West in the direction of cultural descent.77 The rest of the chapter is taken up with further issues related to ikhtilat, such as unrelated men and women sharing the workplace or shaking hands, all of which is, unsurprisingly, strictly prohibited.
The fact that ‘Abd al-Hakim devotes so much of his book to the role of women says a lot about his priorities. Unlike in the West and in the greater Islamic world that he views as fallen into corruption, in Afghanistan there is to be no intermixing of the sexes. Afghanistan is to adhere to traditional Islamic legal (and Afghan social) strictures concerning women, which are of course highly restrictive. On this there can be no compromise. The one ambiguity here concerns whether women will be able to attend school outside the home. While ‘Abd al-Hakim is clearly against it, he seems to anticipate that it is a distinct possibility, and hence the lengthy discussion of mixed education. But if ‘Abd al-Hakim has his way, all of this will be irrelevant, as women will essentially be confined to the home.
Conclusion
‘Abd al-Hakim al-Haqqani’s al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha tells us a great deal about the sort of state that the Taliban has set out to construct following the American era in Afghanistan. This is no ordinary nation-state, but a religiously defined polity predicated on the traditional theory of the imamate in Sunni Islam, with a decidedly Deobandi and Hanafi character. It is a polity premised on the supreme authority of the imam and focused on instituting strict Islamic legal norms.
So far, in these regards, practice has to a very large extent conformed to theory. The head of the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan, Hibatallah Akhundzadah, has succeeded in centralizing his authority in Kandahar after a period when some allies feared he might be losing control of the state to rivals in Kabul.78 This has gone hand-in-hand with an enhanced role for religious scholars such as ‘Abd al-Hakim and their policy preferences, particularly as regards the role of women in society. As of this writing, women remain prohibited from attending school beyond the primary level, a policy that has produced international outcry, and women have been prohibited from working except in the health sector.79 Afghanistan under the Taliban has also seen the reimposition of the hudud penalties of Islamic law, including public executions of murderers and stonings of adulterers. In defense of this policy, Akhundzadah has said, “You may call it a violation of women’s rights when we publicly stone or flog them for committing adultery because they conflict with your democratic principles [… But] I represent Allah, and you represent Satan.”80
In terms of foreign policy, as noted above, ‘Abd al-Hakim adopts something of an ambiguous approach to the outside world. At times he appears to evince an activist bent, as when he talks of building a strong Islamic army aimed at “defend[ing] freedom” and “free[ing] the weak and the marginalized from the shackles of tyranny and oppression.” His espousal of this more expansive version of defensive jihad, as well as his support for traditional offensive jihad as one of the imam’s duties, indicates a vision of politics inconsistent with the spirit of the Westphalian state system enshrined in the United Nations. At the same time, there is a recognition in his book that one must deal with the world as it really is, that one must have a knowledge of international law and international trade if one is to succeed. This would seem to indicate a less dogmatic and more practical approach to international affairs. Indeed, unlike al-Qaeda and the Islamic State, the Taliban has had no problem engaging with the United Nations, and even seeks to be recognized by it as the legitimate government of Afghanistan. As recently as June, Akhundzadah was proclaiming his desire for good political and economic relations with the outside world.81 Even so, a willingness to recognize and participate in the international system is not the same thing as a willingness to abide by its norms. The extent to which the Taliban might be willing to subvert the international system, including by sponsoring groups such as al-Qaeda, remains to be seen. There have been some ominous signs.
On July 31, 2022, al-Qaeda leader Ayman al-Zawahiri was killed in a U.S. drone strike on his home in Kabul, where, according to the Department of Defense, “he was residing as a guest of the Taliban.”82 As revealed by a senior U.S. intelligence official, the house he was staying in was owned by a top aide of Sirajuddin Haqqani, the Islamic Emirate’s interior minister and head of a major Taliban faction known as the Haqqani network (unrelated to ‘Abd al-Hakim al-Haqqani).83 Furthermore, recent reports of the UN Analytical Support and Sanctions Monitoring Team tasked with tracking al-Qaeda and the Islamic State claim that al-Qaeda has been expanding its base of operations in Afghanistan. According to the two latest reports, from July 2023 and January 2024, respectively, “[t]he relationship between the Taliban and Al-Qaida remains close,” and al-Qaeda has been using Afghanistan “as an ideological and logistical hub to mobilize and recruit new fighters while covertly rebuilding its external operations capability,” including by establishing “up to eight new training camps” in addition to schools and safe houses.84 The Biden administration and U.S intelligence community have pushed back on these findings, asserting that al-Qaeda in Afghanistan is all but finished. On September 11, 2023, the director of the National Counterterrorism Center affirmed that “al-Qa‘ida is at its historical nadir in Afghanistan and Pakistan, and its revival is unlikely,” citing “a new intelligence assessment.”85 In the same month, a senior U.S. official dismissed the July 2023 UN report as “wildly out of whack,” while another likened the al-Qaeda presence in Afghanistan to “a nursing home for AQ seniors.”86 The U.S. government’s position has remained unchanged. In February 2024, the Annual Threat Assessment of the U.S. Intelligence Community reaffirmed that “al-Qa‘ida has reached an operational nadir in Afghanistan and Pakistan.”87 Whether al-Qaeda is rebuilding itself in Taliban-ruled Afghanistan thus remains very much a matter of dispute. ‘Abd al-Hakim’s al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha does not settle the debate, as in some ways it allows for both possibilities. While it points to certain ideological affinities between the Taliban and al-Qaeda, the ideological overlap is by no means complete, and ‘Abd al-Hakim’s concern is above all with the welfare of Afghanistan and the Islamic Emirate, not global jihad.
Indeed, it ought to be recognized that most of ‘Abd al-Hakim’s book is focused internally, that is, on questions of the proper form and functioning of the Islamic state at home, including issues pertaining to the implementation of Islamic law. In his introduction to the book, Taliban leader Hibatallah Akhundzadah describes Islam as “a total system covering all aspects of human life,”88 and that is very much the system that ‘Abd al-Hakim elaborates in his book. This is a system, it must be acknowledged, with a strong basis in the Islamic legal and theological traditions, traditions that ‘Abd al-Hakim knows well and ably draws on to elaborate his vision. “So long as Islam remains concealed in books,” he writes at one point, “oppression and tyranny shall remain.”89 Thanks in part to him, the Islam of the Taliban is no longer “concealed in books” but is being enacted in the real world. Whether this will produce less “oppression and tyranny” is another question.
Appendix: al-Imara al-Islamiyya wa-nizamuha, Outline of Chapters
Introduction (pp. 17–19)
1. The Types of Governments (pp. 20–21)
2. Obligatory Features of the Government of Right Guidance (pp. 22–24)
3. Evidence Against Manmade Laws (pp. 25–29)
4. The Islamic Government (pp. 30–32)
5. The Sources of Islamic Legislation (pp. 33–36)
6. The Madhhab (pp. 37–38)
7. Nature and Custom (pp. 39–40)
8. Independence (p. 41)
9. Freedom (pp. 42–46)
10. Names of the Islamic State (pp. 47–50)
11. Titles and Names of the Head of State (pp. 51–54)
12. The Flag and the Banner (pp. 55–57)
13. Electing the Ruler (pp. 58–79)
14. Qualifications of the Imam and his Attributes (pp. 80–86)
15. Duties and Functions of the Imam (pp. 87–125)
16. Termination of the Imam’s Rule (pp. 126–140)
17. Duties of the Subjects (pp. 141–145)
18. The People of Loosening and Binding (pp. 146–158)
19. The System of Rule in Islam (pp. 159–227)
20. Shura (pp. 228–241)
21. Modern Education (pp. 242–247)
22. Women’s Learning and Instruction (pp. 248–262)
23. Mixed Education (pp. 263–302)