Hassan al-Banna, founder of the Muslim Brotherhood. —Wikimedia Commons
They were waiting for some divine intervention to save their reputation, which they had earned over the past eight decades. They waited for 40 days and were finally shaken. They were Brothers and believed they had acquired the rule in Egypt as a divine reward for their long struggle. In 2013, they had staged a sit-in across the country to provide political and moral support to the Muslim Brotherhood’s first president, Mohamed Morsi. It was an incredible event in Egyptian history which was broadcast live by local and international media, including Al-Jazeera.
Political scientists usually see the rise and fall of the Muslim Brotherhood movement in historical, ideological and contemporary political contexts. But Hazem Kandil, an Egyptian political sociologist at the University of Cambridge, has brought in another perspective to understand the Islamist movement, which is the spiritual element that glues the Brotherhood with its members. In his book, Inside the Brotherhood, Kandil mainly attempts to explore the sociology of the Islamist movement, which defines its ideological and political spectrum as well. But the most interesting part of the book is an explanation of the relationship of the Brotherhood members with the divine.
The Brotherhood members were confident that some divine help would come to rescue their government, but after 40 days, Kandil notes, they were visibly shaken by the absence of any such intervention. This is an important question for a political scientist to understand: why do ideological tendencies undermine the political discourse of a movement? In the Brotherhood’s case it is a structural issue. The movement is a unique case study because it nurtured a specific mindset over eight decades and kept its members in an environment that was conducive to transforming certain perceptions into beliefs.
Hazem Kandil’s book offers an analysis of the various facets of the Muslim Brotherhood movement
The initial chapters of the book deal with the organisational structure of the Brotherhood, including how it evolved its systems and created a close community. Many other Islamist movements across the world learned from the Brotherhood’s practices. The following sentence, which is used to welcome a new member into the Brotherhood movement, may sound familiar to Pakistan’s Islamist organisations: “One cannot choose to join the Muslim Brotherhood; one has to be chosen.”
This verdict is a foundation for the character building of a new member. Pakistan’s Jamaat-i-Islami, for example, constitutes five ranks of members. The first rank is muhibin or sympathisers. After initial learning, a sympathiser member can be promoted to the rank of brother, which has its own sub-ranks, and eventually becomes a member of the nucleus group usra, or the family. These ranks are stages of the ideological, religious and sanctimonious growth of an individual.
The founder of the Muslim Brotherhood, Hassan al-Banna, had evolved these stages gradually. Before this, the Brothers had to attend a cultivating school, which was opened in 1928 with 70 students. As members multiplied, al-Banna organised them into small study groups. The members of the core group met every week, shared personal and professional concerns and lived like a family. The core group also ran the affairs of the movement. The members of the Brotherhood movement believe that this brilliant organisational method is itself a divine blessing bestowed upon al-Banna and the Brothers.
The Brotherhood considers everything fair to achieve its ultimate goal. In the third chapter of his book, Kandil writes: “In the name of necessity, therefore, Brothers allow themselves considerable latitude.” He notes that the Brotherhood’s most frequent violation had always been disinformation and the irony is that they believe it is all religiously sanctioned.
The fourth chapter deals with the rise and fall of the Brotherhood movement in Egypt. In explaining the factors behind the slow rise and rapid fall of the Brothers, Kandil argues that historically, Muslim scholars and rulers coexisted in separate spheres. They sometimes negotiated, sometimes clashed, but mostly worked around each other with minimum friction. However, al-Banna and Sayyid Qutb, whom he calls the Marx and Engels of Islamism, had come up with the approach to bridge the gap.
He also explains how al-Banna’s and Qutb’s different backgrounds contributed to shaping the movement. Though they were born in the same year (1906) in small villages and graduated from the same college, al-Banna had a religious zeal since childhood, and Qutb grew up as a Westernised secularist, and both operated in very different political contexts. Al-Banna started his work under the liberal monarchy of the 1920s, and Qutb in contrast converted to Islamism on the eve of the 1952 coup that led to the authoritarian regime of Mohamed Naguib.
When Egypt’s last monarch first dissolved the organisation in December 1948 — after documents were found about the movement’s militant wing and that resulted in the killing of al-Banna — Qutb revised the whole strategy of the movement. The Brothers responded to the ban and killing of their founder by supporting the coup of 1952. The new Nasser regime had lifted the ban and Qutb was hired as a cultural advisor. This was the time “when [the] Brothers decided to combine the doctrine of al-Banna and Qutb to adapt to their new environment: they would capitalise on the space made available to them by the rulers to garner popular support, while continuing to nurture their pious vanguard to take power when chance allowed (as it did in 2011)”.