The Tyranny of Fusion: Why Mosque and State Must Separate

 

The Tyranny of Fusion: Why Mosque and State Must Separate

From Taliban Decrees to Ibn Khaldun’s Warning — How the Coercion of Faith Corrupts Both Religion and Freedom

By Wahab Raofi

The Taliban rule Afghanistan by decree, enforcing a rigid and highly selective interpretation of Sharia law. By claiming divine authority, they govern without accountability to the people. Under this framework, dissent is not treated as a political disagreement but as an act of apostasy — an offense against Islam itself — punishable by imprisonment, torture, or death.7A recent Taliban decree illustrates the dangers of fusing mosque and state. It formally divides society into a four-tier hierarchy: religious scholars (ulama), elites (ashraf), the middle class, and the lower class. Justice under this system is not blind. The severity of punishment depends not on the crime committed, but on the social status of the accused. A religious scholar may receive a verbal warning for an offense that would result in public flogging or imprisonment if committed by a poor laborer. This is not justice; it is sanctified inequality.

History offers a clear warning across civilizations. Wherever religious institutions have fused with political power — whether in early modern Europe or elsewhere — heresy became a crime and dissent a threat to divine order. Progress followed only when faith was freed from the machinery of the state.

Calling for the separation of mosque and state is not a rejection of Islam. On the contrary, it is a defense of it. For many Muslims, Islam is a religion of ethics, compassion, and personal faith — not a tool of coercion. Historically, Muslim societies often recognized this distinction. The Mughal Empire in India (1526–1707), for example, ruled over a predominantly non-Muslim population without imposing Islam. Emperors from Babur to Akbar appointed Hindus to high administrative positions, supported diverse religious traditions, and governed through pluralism rather than forced piety. Their legitimacy rested on effective governance, not religious compulsion.

More broadly, the institutions of political authority and religious scholarship in the Muslim world traditionally operated separately. Rulers governed, while religious scholars interpreted and safeguarded Islamic law, often serving as advisers or moral critics rather than wielders of power themselves. This arrangement protected religion from political manipulation and preserved its moral authority. The fourteenth-century Muslim historian Ibn Khaldun warned of the danger when this balance collapses. In al-Muqaddimah, he observed: “When religious law is imposed by political power, it loses its true force.” Faith, he understood, cannot be sustained by coercion without being corrupted.

What changed in the modern era was the rise of political Islam, particularly in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. Foreign occupation, authoritarian rule, social injustice, and economic despair created fertile ground for movements that fused religion with state power. Groups such as the Taliban and the Islamic Republic of Iran emerged claiming to govern in God’s name, imposing their own interpretations of Sharia law. The results have been catastrophic: violence over competing readings of scripture, the systematic suppression of women and minorities, intellectual stagnation, and the concentration of power in the hands of unaccountable elites.

Iran’s theocratic regime, in power since 1979, offers a sobering example. It operates as a clerical state backed by coercive force. Religious minorities such as the Baha’is have been systematically persecuted. Flogging remains common for personal “transgressions,” adultery is punishable by stoning, and protesters have been labeled mohareb — “enemies of God” — a charge that carries the death penalty. In recent anti-government protests, unarmed civilians were shot under clerical orders, justified as acts of religious defense. Here, too, religion has been reduced to a shield for repression.

Public opinion across the Muslim world tells a more complex story. According to regional surveys, there is no overwhelming popular demand for theocratic rule. In Algeria, for example, 45 percent favor secular democracy compared to 39 percent for Islamic democracy. In Iraq, support is nearly evenly split. Similar patterns appear in Jordan and the Palestinian territories. These figures reveal a crucial truth: many Muslims seek both faith and freedom, without one dominating the other.

Political theorist Francis Fukuyama has observed that when religious identity is imposed by the state, it often becomes an unwanted burden, absorbing public anger over government failure. By contrast, when people are free to practice religion without coercion, religious participation and charitable giving tend to increase. Faith thrives when it is chosen, not enforced.

Separating mosque and state does not weaken Islam — it preserves it. It guarantees citizens the right to believe, worship, or not worship without fear of punishment. It prevents governments from claiming divine immunity and protects religion from being corrupted by political ambition.

Afghanistan’s tragedy is not that Islam is present in public life, but that it has been weaponized by those in power. A clear separation between religious institutions and the state is essential — not to silence faith, but to save it from tyranny, and to restore to citizens the dignity of choice