Monotheism, Images, Idols

By Abdal Hakim Murad | 2026-01-13T22:49:55.577489+00:00 | Topic: Iman

Monotheism, Images, Idols

Monotheism, Images, Idols

By: Abdal Hakim Murad

Cambridge Muslim College

Opening

السَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللَّهِ وَبَرَكَاتُهُ
بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَٰنِ الرَّحِيمِ
الْحَمْدُ لِلَّهِ رَبِّ الْعَالَمِينَ، وَالصَّلَاةُ وَالسَّلَامُ عَلَى أَشْرَفِ الْأَنْبِيَاءِ وَالْمُرْسَلِينَ، سَيِّدِنَا مُحَمَّدٍ وَعَلَى آلِهِ وَصَحْبِهِ أَجْمَعِينَ

Introduction

Cambridge Muslim College, training the next generation of Muslim thinkers. Current European arguments about Islam and Muslims often seem to be trapped somehow between two big compulsions. On the one hand, we notice in our culture a multiculturalist worship of the, as they say, inviolable otherness of the other.

Main Discussion

European Cultural Dynamics

The philosopher Slavoj Žižek calls this almost the hegemonic ethico-spiritual attitude of today's intellectuals, and this, he thinks, is intolerable because, as he puts it, the assertion of otherness leads to the boring, monotonous sameness of otherness itself. Still, this arid but dominant intellectual position tends to place Muslim unassimilability with all other signs of otherness, whether these be post-heteronormative sexual identities or animals with rights or Sinti antinomianism.

It's a permissiveness whose fragility is always exposed when the permitted, tolerated other expresses its own lack of permissiveness, as with the Danish cartoon crisis, for instance.

The Second Compulsion

The second compulsion, according to Eric Rasmussen, is the superego injunction to enjoy transgressive pleasures. This is the second compulsion. Hence, base-jumping, rave culture, tattoos, and the baiting of disliked minorities, whether through the creation of deliberately offensive images or mosque closures or inquisitorial immigration criteria, which has become a kind of bread and circuses crowd-pleaser.

However, in Congress, in a liberal society, the teasing of Muslims and sometimes others, such as Roma communities and Catholic prelates, has become a spectator sport. We playfully enrage the other in his or her sanctuaries, but, as Zizek adds, the price we pay for the absence of guilt is anxiety.

European Iconoclasm

If we're going to accept this Zizekian take on things, we might find a diagnostic which helps us to understand the strikingly anxious state of current European culture and politics. The Muslim other, the current Semitic ghetto-dweller, causes agitation because of his repressive folkways, and hence, despite Europe's Olympian superiority and philosophy of liberal indulgence, it increasingly censors and suppresses.

The visibility of Muslim otherness in Europe is to be occluded or abolished in a new wave of secular iconoclasm. Unable to bear the sight of minarets, the Swiss constitution bans them. Thus, too, has Paris prohibited congregational worship in public. And two months ago, Denmark criminalized the wearing of the niqab.

The actual meaning of these signs of otherness appears to be less salient than their performance as signs. They are icons which have to be smashed by the populists of the increasingly coercive nation-state. Europeanness itself increasingly seems to require a damnatio memoriae, an extirpation of the other symbols, the most thorough and frank instantiation having been Serb and Croat policies of systematically uprooting mosque cemeteries and inscriptions during the 1992-1995 Bosnian war.

Defending Islam from Iconophobia

And perhaps the most tempting of third ways has been to save Islam from charges of irreducible otherness, and possibly from itself, by blurring all of the dichotomies. When Chomsky remarked that the Danish cartoons showcased, as he says, ordinary racism under cover of freedom of expression, fellow travelers rushed in to defend Islam from charges of a vulgar and foreign iconophobia.

Against the chauvinism of growing numbers of Europeans, these voices earnestly prized Islam out of standard definitions presented by essentialists on both sides. Islam turns out to be far from iconophobic, and bien pensant intellectuals are called to challenge the zealots by pouring out the unexpected treasures from the cornucopia of Muslim representational art.

Quite a few recent exhibitions in major art galleries have constituted showcases of Muslim picture making, including a famous one in Copenhagen. The political adroitness of this turn is evident and almost certainly benign.

Academic Concerns

What concerns us as scholars, academics, theologians, is its tendency to establish a stable and valid disaggregation of Islamic civilization, or at least to try and render normative a recurrent exception. Now, given the famous many-centeredness of Islam, a very ecumenical faith world which encompassed in its pre-modern expression far more cultures and perspectives than was possible in pre-modern Christianity,

we can do no more than reach for such majoritarian or recurrent patterns, rather than seek to identify a supposed unanimous Muslim magisterium.

Christianity, often accustomed to its own firm regulatory hierarchies and detailed creeds, has often struggled to recognize the very plurivocal nature of the Jewish and Islamic Semitisms. Surely, religions of the law must be more tightly regulated than the religion which has proclaimed a gospel freedom.

Islamic Law and Images

Yet, Jewish and Muslim interpretations of the image question are indeed divergent and also, perhaps strangely, really very marginal in the major theological and legal manuals. The law books, where many Christian and uninitiated secular minds expect to find a detailed and comprehensive code for believing life, the usual stereotype of what a Muslim fiqh book is like, actually hardly mention the crime of image making, which is certainly never subject to canonical punishments of the had type in any school of Islamic law, but falls always, if the judges bother at all, into the category of ta'zir, where the punishment or lack of it is left entirely to the discretion and local wisdom of the magistrate.

Historical Context

But we will still need to check the Islamic record for any recurrent patterns of thought about images. And to do this, we begin not with the scriptures, but with their late antique point of emergence, their Sitz im Leben. The cradle of Islam has to be understood in terms of contiguity with wider Mediterranean habits.

It's the lesson driven home by Glenn Bowersock, Garth Foden, and most of the currently significant history writing. Islam is not some kind of unique singularity. Its founding moment is not a strange exotic outlier.

Jewish and Islamic Traditions

Nascent Islam, of course, knew very well the rabbinic Judaism of the Medina Hasidim, vehement in their culture despite the indigenous Arab fetishism. Not only the Ten Commandments, but Numbers 33:52, Deuteronomy 4:16, and the Hebrew scriptures in general, used the word pesel and shikut synonymously for images and idols. The various cherubim and animal reliefs of the temple were taken to be exceptions that underlined this rule.

And the Shulchan Aruch, perhaps the most influential legal source book for today's orthodox, repeats that, quote, it is forbidden to make complete solid or raised images of people or angels or any images of heavenly bodies except for purposes of study.

Christian and Buddhist Perspectives

Of the axial religions, both Buddhism and Christianity refused image-making for the first two centuries of their existence. Both, it seems, then altered their position through Greek influence. Both remained subject

to sharp internal arguments about the viability of sacred images, and in the case of Christianity, these debates were closely associated with some of the religion's greatest historical traumas.

The era of iconoclasm, launched by Byzantine bishops, was the greatest disruption ever experienced by the post-Chalcedonian Great Church, and the Reformation fiercely reopened the debate in the West. To this day, the dolls of Amish children have no faces.

Convergences with Reformed Christianity

Byzantine and Reformed allergies to image-making seem to overlap, as one would expect, with many of the Islamic debates. We're dealing with, as Denise Masson puts it, the three ways of the one, a ternary of interlocking families of discussion and debate. On this argument, some might even see Islam, as Hilaire Belloc famously did in his book on heresies, as a first and more successful Reformation.

Calvin rejects priest-craft, relics, indulgences, organs and images, and so does Islam. Belloc, actually, construes Islam as functionally a Protestant-Christian heresy, rather than a new religion.

So, when the Norwich Chapel, in which my own family worshipped, became, in 1977, a mosque, no awkward iconoclastic episode was required which might obstruct the approval of the city planning or conservation department. The walls and the windows were already plain. Ditto also for the Huguenot Church on London's Brick Lane, which had served for a century also as East London's major synagogue before becoming a mosque.

Academic Analysis

Perhaps then, if our purpose is to de-other the Muslims in the face of European prejudice, we should be looking at this sort of convergence, rather than at the effulgence of Muslim figural art. One can belong to Europe and not be an icon lover.

And yet, the two most interesting recent discussions of Muslim iconology by Alain Besançon and Sven Lutikon interrogate the simple understanding of a one with three cognate ways. Islam, on their appreciation, is indeed distinctive, and its habitual iconology is new and revealing.

Besançon's Analysis

For Besançon, in some suggestive and luminous passages in his book The Forbidden Image, Israel's burning bush and its unpronounceable name for God signal the people's remaining in waiting, since the defining messianic breakthrough still lies in God's future. Then alone will the fullness of temple worship be established, Jewish law confirmed, and a decisive theology become possible.

Meanwhile, living in exile or under Roman or other Gentile rule, provisionality and circumspection entail concessions. The famous Rabbi Akiva even allowed Jewish craftsmen to fabricate idols for the Gentiles, and was happy to drink from a goblet bearing the image of fortune. Jews in iconophile Europe regularly

illuminated their manuscripts with biblical vignettes. Those who lived in the abode of Islam usually did not.

Everything seemed to be provisional while the Jews waited. Besançon contrasts this very starkly with Islam. He writes, in Judaism there is a low upper limit to art because Israel is in waiting, and the face-to-face vision that art might procure would be an illusion, in other words, idolatry.

That is not the case for Islam. There is no waiting but an eternal present under the dazzling light of revelation. He goes on to explain that there is no questing or urging in Islamic art, no dynamically straining figures, for God is not absent and man is not fallen.

The Quranic Perspective

Only a kind of platonic recollection is required. Art therefore simply brings to the visible surface the nature of things. The confirmation of this comes from two recent Christian essays on the famous Mughal miniature based on a Dürer engraving of Saint Jerome, now held in the Qatar Museum of Islamic Art.

One of these two authors, Jabur al-Dawahi, is a Maronite, a Lebanese Catholic, and Rajat Shehadeh is a well-known Palestinian Anglican, but both, reflecting on this image, comment on the peacefulness of the Muslim recalibration of the picture. Islam, they write, cannot bear the straining of the Christian saint, his erotophobia, his determination to treat exile in the natural world as mortification rather than reunion.

Islam's insistence on God's mercy makes the image's original purpose, a punitive meditation on suffering, unintelligible. Wherever Muslims attempt painting, even for the emperor's discrete private case, the veiling of God accomplished by the Western Christian pessimism about nature proves intolerable, and hence the rich palette of torn human emotions, which makes figurative art great, simply struggles to find roots in Muslim soil.

Quranic Teaching on Divine Transcendence

Besançon also discusses the conventional argument that the Quran hardly concerns itself with the question of images. He insists that this reflects the assumption carried within the text of the inconceivability, in any case, of a Muslim icon. Judaism needed the commandments to limit the risks of its often anthropomorphist scriptural theology. The Quran evidently dispenses with them.

The Quran announces:

لَيْسَ كَمِثْلِهِ شَيْءٌ ۖ وَهُوَ السَّمِيعُ الْبَصِيرُ

"There is nothing like unto Him, and He is the All-Hearing, the All-Seeing."

Quran 42:11

Document

Which, as the mystics point out, means not just that God has no likeness, but literally that nothing resembles a likeness of God, introducing a double distance, a double apophaticism. The interdiction is fully supplied in the verse in Surah 112:

قُلْ هُوَ اللَّهُ أَحَدٌ * اللَّهُ الصَّمَدُ * لَمْ يَلِدْ وَلَمْ يُولَدْ * وَلَمْ يَكُنْ لَهُ كُفُوًا أَحَدٌ

"Say: He is Allah, the One! Allah, the Eternal, Absolute; He begets not, nor is He begotten; And there is none like unto Him."

The explicit prohibition of something impossible would be otiose and strange.

Private vs Public Art

Besançon, of course, does notice the luxuriant and luxurious umayyad images of hunting scenes and buxom maidens. But like Creswell before him, he observes that image-making in Islamic civilization was a private rather than a public pursuit, maintained not on walls but in books which were usually kept closed.

Sumptuous Ottoman albums in which miniaturists depicted the sagas of prophets, sultans, Persian kings, dragons and demons were understood to be for the personal delectation of a palace elite on whom formal religious edicts might sit rather lightly. Such cognoscente also maintained distinctly transgressive traditions of pederasty and wine consumption as part of a refined courtly culture with roots in ancient Persia.

But these pictures are still Islamicate, not Islamic. They are no more indicative of Islamic concerns than is, for instance, the purchase of Leonardo's painting Salvator Mundi recently by agents understood to be acting for King Salman of Saudi Arabia. Mudded culture is not necessarily reflective of the deep impulses of a devout civilization.

Abu Zabi spent tens of millions on a Picasso exhibition in 2008, but only a handful of locals attended. Qatari elites by Damien Hirst, but his motto death without redemption is probably not shared by most Doha residents.

Lutygen's Analysis

The second and most recent author is the art critic Sven Lutygen. His book appeared in the wake of the Danish cartoon debacle and he reflects on the depictions of the Holy Prophet, which I quote, as he says, caricatured him in ways that sometimes seemed racist and oddly reminiscent of anti-Semitic caricatures of old. The iconodule European self-definition as non-Semitic again fixes on the image question.

But actually the real trigger for his book seems to have been a quieter moment, a 2007 exhibition by Amsterdam artist Gert-Jan Kocken, which took the form of fine-grained photographs of statues which had been defaced by the reformation and its bildungssturm.

While Kocken holds no religious brief, he challenges us to view the headless statuary as less aesthetically fulfilling than our imagining of the intact originals. There is here an aestheticism of iconoclasm which is not simply a provocative wanting of the modernist turn away from representation.

By violently insisting that stone cannot do justice to the imago dei or to our complex and fleshly not stony humanity, these photographs force us to wonder whether any serious humanism, whether sacred or profane, can be carried by representational art.

Platonic Influences

Lutygen teases us with this thought. But he then traces monotheism's travails with images back to their origins in Plato. This incidentally has been considerably clarified by Robin Jensen in an article on early Christian aniconism published last year in the journal Religion.

Early Christians declined the use of images not out of obedience to the second commandment, but because they were themselves invested in complex Hellenistic arguments about the religious efficacy of images. Lutygen sketches Plato's distinction between true and false images, eidos and eidolon, the former being only accessible to gods and true philosophers, and the latter being necessarily contaminated by human psychic residues.

When Christians identified the logos as identical with God the Son, he says, they faced a problem from which philo and Judaism had been exempt. The Son is consubstantial with the Father, but he too is an image of the Father. Like the Semitisms, Christianity affirmed that man is in God's image and yet so too is Christ. Physical images then, Lutygen says, were apt to involve the Christian in a destabilizing paradox.

Reformation Parallels

Judaism, by contrast, could maintain the logos in its unincarnated form, and Islam also, although its thinkers tended quite often to vacillate between considering scripture or the Nur-Muhammadi or both to be a sort of logos principle. With the two reformations, the founder of Islam's in the 7th century and Calvin's in the 16th, this unresolved tension broke surface again.

How could an artist depict the intersection of infinity and the sublunary world? Here in Cambridge, there were many arguments. Launcelot Andrews at Pembroke College insisted that images of Christ were Nestorian because they could show only one of Christ's natures.

And Calvin, we've had his followers here, preached as follows. Behold, they paint and portray Jesus Christ who, as we know, is not only man but also God manifested in the flesh. And what a representation is that? He is God's Son in whom dwells the fullness of the Godhead, yea, even substantially.

Seeing it is said substantially, should we have portraitures and images whereby only the flesh may be represented? Is it not a wiping away of that which is chiefest in our Lord Jesus Christ, that is to wit of his

divine majesty? Yes, and therefore, whensoever a crucifix stands mopping and mowing in the church, it is all one, as if the devil had defaced the Son of God.

Again, in Cambridge, the populist Ridley further worried that the extreme difficulty of a Christologically proper iconology would lead the masses into idolatry. And this too really echoes a very familiar Islamic concern. Not everyone bowing to an image, even one sanctioned by the church, is theologically sophisticated.

Islamic Concerns About Masses

And again, Islam and the reformers here seem to share a concern for the dangers of an elite Hellenized theology which was hardly suited to illiterate practitioners of a mass religion. Instead, the Hagia Sophia's tempting images would one day be prudently whitewashed and replaced with scripture, the word made word, as it were, much less liable to be idolatrously misunderstood.

Only then did the mighty structure truly point everyone, rather than just theologians, towards the Bible's God. Well, if this is the case, then perhaps we need to revise our earlier judgment which proposed an Islamic hate rather than Islamic nature for Islamic miniature painting.

Nature of Islamic Art

Of course, despite the determination of iconodial Western art historians to make a case for it, even sometimes an Islamophiliac case, the cartoon characters of most Muslim figurative art are deliberately two-dimensional, humorous and crude, their motions always jerky and puppet-like. Fingers and mouths, they are barely capable of expression.

When surrounded on their pages by the superb hieratic abstractions of Islamic calligraphy, their status as a minor art becomes flagrant. Painters needed to earn their keep, but as John Renard observes, they ensured that their figurative art was never representational.

Indeed, the images are almost purely indicative rather than substantive. As Lois Faroukhi sees matters, Islamic miniature painting renders superficially anthropomorphic forms into abstractions. Even the mogul image of Saint Jerome, which we spoke about, accomplishes this.

And hence these cartoons are surely at their most aesthetically impressive when the childish faces are no longer trying to say anything, when they are erased, smeared by the finger of a pious passion. For this veiling by the smear, however shocking to the European curator, is not the modern desecration of our theomorphic nature represented by, say, Lucian Freud, but something quite different, a sign of ineffability.

True Theistic Humanism

Man alone, not his image, is the image of God. We might say that the faces are smeared up, not down. This true theistic humanism is well summarized by Titus Burckhardt, who writes this:

The portraying of divine envoys, Rusul, prophets, Anbiya, and saints, Aulia, is avoided, not only because such images could become the object of an idolatrous cult, but also out of respect for what is inimitable in them. They are the vicegerents of God on earth. It is through them that the theomorphic nature of man becomes manifest.

But this theomorphism is a secret, whose appearance in the corporeal world remains ungraspable. The inanimate and congealed image of the man-god would be merely a shell, an error, an idol.

Additional Considerations

To this general summary, other considerations have habitually been made by Muslim sceptics. It is not only that an image of a created entity, when purporting a spiritual or aesthetic purpose, necessarily falls blasphemously short of the luminous reality. After all, who would prefer the rook be Venus over the lady herself?

But image-making passes the sublime through a more or less fallen human filter, precipitating the congealing of which Burckhardt writes. Feminists nowadays object to much Christian iconography as pushing God down into a gender, which is why Mary Daly thought that Christolatry is idolatry, while Rosemary Ruther found a new Christological paradox by theorizing on the non-masculinity of Jesus.

Similarly, race activists habitually protest representations of the incarnate God as white, and black Muslims in America have seen this as a token of Islam's universality. Only aniconism, being without images, can save us from intermediary representations which introduce racial or gendered specifics.

Aesthetic Considerations

Moreover, Muslims, Burckhardt included, observe that iconographic genres are vulnerable to a decline into sentimentality which can make the spaces they condition uninhabitable. Observing the iconography of many churches, young visitors often find themselves alienated.

Those images of the sacred heart which were once there to facilitate the religiosity of the masses now often seem to obstruct it. Those who have worked with the young often find that it is a clear space which celebrates geometry and stylized tessellations and vegetal motifs which best proclaims monotheism's universal and urgent charm.

Closing

رَبَّنَا آتِنَا فِي الدُّنْيَا حَسَنَةً وَفِي الْآخِرَةِ حَسَنَةً وَقِنَا عَذَابَ النَّارِ
وَصَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَى سَيِّدِنَا مُحَمَّدٍ وَعَلَى آلِهِ وَصَحْبِهِ وَسَلَّمَ
وَالْحَمْدُ لِلَّهِ رَبِّ الْعَالَمِينَ

Cambridge Muslim College, training the next generation of Muslim thinkers.