[COLUMNIST] Whose rights? Islam, eurocentrism and the limits of human rights

Whose Rights, What Rights?

Any person who questions how establishments gain legitimacy, should question how the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) became the effective power in determining the freedoms of people the world over. Like the United Nations itself, the UDHR rose from the ashes of World War II. The year was 1948, and the UDHR was adopted with most of the world still recovering from the deadliest conflict in history – claiming more than 60 million souls. Unlike ‘civil rights’, or ‘minority rights’, the idea of human rights implied universality, ascribing all individuals certain inalienable rights by virtue of a shared humanity.

In the wake of such unprecedented death, destruction, and destitution, the global community (with many representatives born and raised in the Global North) turned to diplomacy to ensure that such macabre history would not recur. Through international relations, nations sang kumbaya around the fire of optimism. There was a declaration of fundamental freedoms that belong to all of us – from Amazonian natives and Congolese diamond-chasers to those dressed in the finest three-piece suits in New York, London, and Milan. Freedom for all! Yet, who determines what ‘freedom’ entails, and what is the catch here?

In his thought-provoking book, ‘The Dignity of Man: An Islamic Perspective’ published in 2002, Afghan-born scholar Hashim Kamali points out a different way of approaching commonly held notions of rights. Since human rights has often been about the relationship between the state and its citizens, vice versa, the language used in such an interaction is one of entitlement. There is no appreciation for communal responsibility as the individual, and only the individual is of utmost importance. We see that other ways of defining the human being are rendered null and void – s/he is merely material, and the spiritual component does not see the light of day. The argument brough forth is that ‘human rights’ is mired in Eurocentric assumptions. It is grounded in liberal views of modernity and specifically humanist notions of ‘the human’ as an autonomous, rational, and sovereign ‘individual’. The conceptualisation of these rights has colonising functions for those who have been, and still are, excluded from its imaginary. It is this premise that Kamali (as well as other scholars, including decolonial thinkers Michalinos Zembylas and Nelson Maldonado-Torres) challenges. Within the framework of Islam, the perception of human rights is rooted in human dignity while being intertwined with human obligation (al-istikhlaf; vicegerency). It is by way of an acceptance and fulfilment of obligations that individuals acquire certain rights. Dignity thus becomes a reality when there exists a balanced emphasis on rights and obligations. It must be noted here that Islam’s perception of human rights is not premised on the individual versus nation-state framework. The nation-state itself represents a superimposition which has minimal claim to authenticity in the authoritative sources of the faith, namely the Qur’ān and the Sunna (the tradition of the Prophet Muhammad SAW).

Enter the stage, a recent field within academia. Decolonial Ethics imagines a set of ethical orientations that confront conventional assumptions around culture and history. Within its ambit, there is a strong challenge against normally uninterrogated consequences of coloniality (an enduring process that is very much with us today). Thus, it would not be a stretch to say that the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) promoted by the UN is a new form of coloniality as it encroaches on how a particular country manages its internal affairs. Under the veneer of ‘care’ and ‘concern’ these goals become the justification for international bodies to meddle in domestic politics – although from a distance as an ‘observer’. This type of observation, in my eyes at least, is a type of voyeurism that no one seems to question. It is understood to be a given, as we continue to slog through the 9-5. Well, no one has time to question these institutions, let alone to do something about it. Even if there are a few dissidents, there is no political will to carry out structural change. In this highly competitive, consumerist world, we are just too busy trying to survive. This is precisely why we need to pay attention to Decolonial Ethics. This field of enquiry questions the link between different systems, including banking and healthcare, and the notion of employment and work itself. Some of the critiques and counter-projects that have been raised against coloniality, and Eurocentrism draw inspiration from decolonial thinking, which highlights a ‘colonial matrix of power’ that systematically reproduces colonial patterns of racial domination, epistemic hierarchisation, and outright negation of non-Western knowledges. The Italian Marxist thinker, Antonio Gramsci (d. 1937) told us about ‘cultural hegemony’ – the description of how the state and ruling capitalist class, the bourgeoisie, use cultural institutions to maintain wealth and power in capitalist societies. Therein lies the question: is the United Nations an example of such a cultural institution?

To reiterate, human rights in the West is seen primarily through the lens of the relationship of citizen and state, a relic of their historical origin as claims articulated by the bourgeoisie against absolutist states. Although the concept of human rights has expanded to include collective rights as well as social and economic rights, these additions have not altered the view of human rights as claims that citizens make upon their states. This premise seems to be somewhat ignorant of the growing recognition that non-state parties such as warlords, tribal and guerrilla groups can also violate human rights. We would do well to remember that human rights violators also come in the form of multinational corporations, fund managers, and currency speculators. Keep this in mind; the political framework of banking enslavement requires ideological imperatives. There can be no action without an idea, and no carrying out of that action without intention. The pillars of these ideological imperatives include the super-state, national boundaries, census statehood, a national debt to private banks, and an ‘elected’ government to monitor the people. In any democratic model, power does not belong to the people but to the expropriators of land and commodities. The wealth ‘acquired’ here is based off market manipulation and bankruptcy mechanisms. Have these multinational corporations, fund managers, and currency speculators ever been put to trial for economic abuses?

When controversial academic Bruce Gilley (of Portland State University) visited Malaysia for a series of talks in local universities, he argued the case for colonialism – also highlighting the need for Putrajaya to be on good terms with Israel if Malaysia is ‘to be a serious international player’. Gilley is an advocate for Western colonialism as he hopes that his readers can rethink the past as well as improve the future. He contends that this process involves the reaffirming of the primacy of human lives, universal values, and shared responsibilities – “the civilising mission without scare quotes” that led to significant improvements in living conditions for most Third World peoples during episodes of Western colonialism. Can we observe an uncanny link here between the establishment of the UDHR and Gilley’s comments, pointing to ‘universal values and shared responsibilities?

For as long as rights are understood on Occidental terms, problems would inevitably remain. What is needed is an appreciation of diversity – not one in the politically correct sense. This form of diversity is one which considers different modes of living, dissimilar ways of engaging with others, and diverse methods of establishing one’s own sense of self in a world of competing claims. Further to this, there needs to be widespread changes to how Human Rights and Peace education (including Peace and Conflict Studies) is taught in universities, especially in the Global North.

The mentioning of the plight of the Gazans earlier goes to show how suffering can be inflicted on those who are deemed to be less-than-human, as Yoav Gallant, Israeli politician and former military officer was so keen to point out; ““We are fighting human animals, and we are acting accordingly.” Words matter, definitions matter. May we long continue to question the structures that claim to offer peace, when peace seems to be a pipe dream.

* Arief Arman is an Associate Member of the University of Malaya Centre for Civilisational Dialogue (UMCCD) and a graduate of SOAS, University of London. ** The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the position of Astro AWANI.