Riyadh Summit could yet shape the dynamics of a multipolar world

To realise its immense potential as a cohesive pole in this new global order, the Islamic world needs to decide on the best way forward. Inspiration can be found in the Abbasid model

Barry Falls

Riyadh Summit could yet shape the dynamics of a multipolar world

What transpired at the unexpected Arab-Islamic Summit in Riyadh on 11 November 2024 could mark a historical turning point. If developments continue along this path, it may later be understood as the beginning of a pole formation in a multipolar world.

At the summit, which placed the Palestinian cause front and centre, the presence of two long-standing foes—Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan—was telling. Not long ago, it would have been unthinkable for these two men to appear in the same forum. Also there was Iranian First Vice President Mohammad Reza Aref, who met Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman after.

Opening the summit, the crown prince said the international community “must immediately halt Israeli actions against our brothers in Palestine and Lebanon,” calling Israel’s military campaign in Gaza “genocide”. He also demanded that the world “compel Israel to respect the sovereignty of the brotherly Islamic Republic of Iran and cease attacks on its territories”.

Implications of a Trump presidency

Meanwhile, another important development coincided with the summit: Trump’s election as US president, marking his return to the White House after four years of Biden. It is well-known that US President-elect Donald Trump is a strong supporter of Israel’s far right and of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. During his first presidency, Trump unilaterally recognised Jerusalem as the capital of Israel despite it being recognised as occupied territory by the majority of the world.

Trump is likely to continue supporting extremists in Netanyahu’s government, including ministers Bezalel Smotrich, Itamar Ben-Gvir, and their spiritual leader, Rabbi Dov Lior, whose associates openly advocate for Israel’s expedited control over the Al-Aqsa Mosque, the annihilation of Palestinians, and even the occupation of Syria—including Damascus—to establish a ‘Greater Israel’ stretching from sea to sea.

Following Trump’s election, Smotrich declared that the time had come to set some of this camp’s plans in motion. For his part, Palestinian leader Mahmoud Abbas is unlikely to escape the iron will of Israel’s far right, which is determined to finish the Palestinian issue once and for all. Trump’s actions have encouraged those Israelis who want to eliminate or deport Palestinians, demolish Al-Aqsa, and build the Third Temple, a step believed by Jewish Messianists to herald the arrival of the awaited Messiah.

In his 2009 book The King's Torah, far-right Zionist writer Yitzhak Shapira (endorsed by Lior) explicitly advocates the physical elimination of all “enemies of Israel,” including women, children, and the elderly. This chilling doctrine is being enacted in Gaza today and may soon be enacted in the West Bank, too. If the United Nations opposes these actions, Israelis retort that the UN itself is an “enemy of Israel”. They have already declared that UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres is persona non grata.

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Heads of state stand for a group photo at the Arab-Islamic summit held in Riyadh on November 11, 2024.

Formation of an Islamic pole

Against this backdrop, leaders of the Islamic world decided to set aside their internal disputes and convene in Riyadh. Erdoğan called for a boycott of Israel, while Saudi Arabia urged the recognition of Palestine and the unity of Islamic nations to counter Israeli aggression in Gaza, Lebanon, and Iran.

Israel’s ongoing attacks against Syrian territory made al-Assad’s attendance all the more important. He used the pulpit to deliver a strongly-worded anti-Western speech. In short, it felt like the Islamic pole in a multipolar world was starting to take tangible form.

Witnessing genocide in Gaza and facing the prospect of their holiest sites being destroyed seems to have been the trigger for action. Was this Summit, therefore, a pivotal moment for Islamic integration? After all, the move towards a multipolar world is happening, although some in the West refuse to accept the reality.

The West—particularly the United States—has given up on global leadership. And with an anti-globalist conservative set to return to power in Washington, the focus will be to ‘make America great again’ by strengthening it domestically and locally.

Externally, America looks poised to relinquish its dominance. As the rest of the world continues striving to revitalise their civilisations and reclaim sovereignty, the days of America being the sole and supreme authority in global decision-making seem to be over. No longer will it alone set international rules and standards.

And if multipolarity is truly inevitable, it will have repercussions for the Islamic world. It will need to be integrated to realise its immense potential as a cohesive pole. And although there are several fully sovereign nations (Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Iran, Indonesia, nuclear-armed Pakistan, and Egypt, to name but a few), none can single-handedly lead this unification.

Therefore, a new approach is needed. The first steps towards this are already underway, prompted by Israeli aggression. This was on display in Riyadh, where long-standing barriers were broken.

Genocide in Gaza and the prospect of Israel destroying Muslim holy sites in Jerusalem seem to have moved the Islamic summit into action mode

Models for integration

The model for Islamic integration has long been debated. Islamic scholars began proposing various frameworks during the anti-colonial struggle against the West. For obvious reasons, Western political ideas (such as liberalism or nationalism) cannot form the doctrinal foundation for Islamic integration.

One notable exception is Arab socialism, represented by Ba'athism, whose theorists were either secularists (like Zaki al-Arsuzi and Abdul Rahman al-Bitar in Syria) or even Christians (like Michel Aflaq in Syria), thus sidelining Islam. Projects based on pure Islam have offered more profound intellectual frameworks, with its call to abandon nationalist norms and unite solely under Sharia.

The first two caliphates have often served as models: the Arab Caliphate established by Prophet Muhammad within the Arabian Peninsula and the Umayyad Caliphate centred in Damascus under the leadership of Muawiyah.

Wahhabism, which emerged in Saudi Arabia, represents another model. It excludes all Islamic jurisprudential schools that developed at much later stages, as well as local customs and traditions, and dismisses the vast legacy of Quranic and Sunnah interpretations. This creates a distinctly clear vision of religion limited to ritual practices and a literal understanding of texts, offering simplicity and clarity.

Another current within Islam—known as Salafism—draws inspiration not from the first caliphate but from the second. The first caliphate was centred on the charisma of a religious leader and represented an armed society (essentially an army reflecting Arab tribal customs). The second was a more structured state.

Salafism emerged as a doctrine in the 8th and 9th centuries. Those engaged in anti-colonial struggles in the Islamic world often turned to Salafism, which promoted the idea of a single global Islamic state, rejecting local traditions. Its stance toward various schools of jurisprudence and certain forms of Islamic mysticism, like Sufism (vehemently rejected by Wahhabism), was relatively flexible.

A Salafi movement, the Muslim Brotherhood was founded by Hassan al-Banna, with Sheikh Ahmed Yassin establishing Hamas as one of its branches. Salafism insisted on a simplified and literal interpretation of the Quran. The primary focus was on establishing an Islamic state without distinctions based on ethnicity, origin, or gender.

Despite this, some Sufi orders supported Salafist ideas, while President Erdoğan showed an inclination towards it. Today, the Taliban represents a Central Asian version of this ideology, which also holds significant sway in Pakistan, Indonesia, and Malaysia. Many extremist groups derive their views from Salafist thought.

Yet even among Salafists inspired by the Umayyad Caliphate, the idea of Islamic integration did not gain traction. Most Muslims reject their extremism, their disdain for regional characteristics, and terrorist tactics. Salafists tried to lead the Arab Spring, but their involvement led to civil wars and unrest in Tunisia, Libya, Egypt, Iraq, and Syria. This led to Salafi infighting and a loss of credibility.

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Turkey's President Recep Tayyip Erdogan visits the mausoleum of the nation's founding father Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, during a ceremony to mark the 79th anniversary of his death, in Ankara, Turkey, on Nov. 10, 2017.

President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan placed the call for a 'Fourth Caliphate' (the final one) at the heart of his policy. This project combines Islamism (in its Salafi interpretation) with Turkish nationalism. Despite Erdoğan's affiliation with the Naqshbandi Sufi order, this project clashes fundamentally with the secular Kemalism of many Turks.

Before the 2016 coup attempt, Erdoğan seriously considered the Ottoman Caliphate as a model. At that time, he still enjoyed the support of pro-Western figures like Abdullah Gül and Ahmet Davutoğlu, who strongly backed the Neo-Ottoman project—partly influenced by their Western patrons' encouragement of Russophobia.

The idea of reviving the Ottoman Caliphate aligns with Turkey's strategic interests in the Eastern Mediterranean, lends legitimacy to its claims over northern Iraq and Syria, and resonates with those Arab regimes with ties to Salafism and the Muslim Brotherhood.

However, it ultimately failed owing to an Arab rejection of Turkish dominance. Arab nations do not want to see Turks reclaim their influence in the region, given the region's unfavourable collective memory of the Ottoman Empire. In short, the Fourth Caliphate model for uniting all Muslims proved unrealistic.

Following the success of the Islamic Revolution in Iran in 1979, Ayatollah Khomeini declared a new era: the struggle of nations against Western materialist hegemony. A Shiite, Khomeini established a Shiite-led governance system (Wilayat al-Faqih) in Iran, with support from Shiite communities in other countries, especially Lebanon.

Khomeini believed his call was directed at all Muslims, urging them to revolt against post-colonial authorities and establish Islamic governance. He directly addressed Sunni Sufis, drawing comparisons between them and Shiite esotericism and end-times teachings.

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Former Iranian leader Ruhollah Ali Khomeini

He also appealed to non-Muslims to oppose the "Great Satan" (the West), but despite the victory of Khomeini's ideas in Iran and their support among Shiite communities in Iraq, Lebanon, Yemen, and Syria, they failed to gain Sunni trust. It became apparent that the Shiite project could never serve as the basis for Muslim unity, particularly because Iranians could only propose either the Safavid state or the Fatimid Caliphate—historical precedents deemed heretical even by Shiite standards. The Fatimid Caliphate, for example, was dominated by Ismaili Shiites, whose doctrines were rejected by the Shiite majority.

As a result, Arabs viewed this project as a Persian endeavour, much like they perceived the Turkish-Ottoman project, ruling out this form of Muslim unity as an option. In this brief overview of Islamic unity concepts, there is one glaring omission thus far: the Abbasid Caliphate, the third Islamic caliphate. Remarkably, no Islamic movement has ever embraced this model despite the fact that they represented the pinnacle of Islamic civilisation, harmony, and prosperity.

The Abbasid Caliphate, which was based in Baghdad (hence it was also known as the Baghdad Caliphate), united Arabs, Persians, Central Asians, North Africans, Mesopotamians, Anatolians, Sunnis, and Shiites under its banner. This era witnessed the establishment of key jurisprudential schools, the flourishing of arts, sciences, philosophy, and technology, as well as the birth of foundational Sufi teachings and spiritual Shi'ism. Prominent Abbasid philosophers like Al-Kindi, Al-Farabi, Avicenna (Ibn Sina), and Jabir ibn Hayyan gained global renown. Their works were meticulously studied in medieval Europe, where every word was subjected to careful interpretation.

In short, the Abbasid Caliphate represented the zenith of Islamic history and the apex of its renaissance. It unified Muslims not through oversimplification of religion but by enriching and refining it through rigorous philosophical interpretation. It was a religion open to all, attracting great minds engrossed in the infinite meanings of the Quran, Sunnah, and the works of Islamic philosophers, mystics, and scholars. There was a harmonious blending of Arab and Persian elements, with contributions from Turks, Kurds, Berbers, and others.

Abbasid 2.0 model?

Crucially, the recent Arab-Islamic emergency summit in Riyadh evokes the Abbasid model because it brought together all major Islamic nations and currents to face a fundamental challenge: the threat to the Al-Aqsa Mosque. Islamic traditions mention black flags from Khorasan emerging before the end times and the final battle against the Dajjal (Islamic Antichrist). These lands were part of the Abbasid domain.

Islamic civilisation can only establish itself as a cohesive pole in a multipolar world if unity is achieved. Therefore, the foundational ideology is of paramount importance, and the overlooked role of the Baghdad Caliphate provides an answer.

As the world reclaims its sovereignty, the days of America being the sole and supreme authority seem to be over

It could also offer a solution to Iraq's modern crisis. While this may seem like a detail within the broader Islamic unity project, it is an essential one because Iraq currently seems destined for collapse, with no idea or ideology able to unite the three major groups in modern Iraq: Shiites (the majority), Sunnis, and Kurds.

Iraq under Saddam Hussein relied on Ba'athism and secular Sunni dominance, a model that has irreversibly vanished. The Shiite and Salafi projects, both tested in Iraq, have also failed. The issue transcends the US occupation. Even after the US withdraws, civil strife remains inevitable.

Imagine the Islamic world as an Abbasid Caliphate 2.0. Returning to Mesopotamia—symbolically anchored in Iraq—would transform the country into a natural hub balancing Arabia, Iran, Turkey, the Maghreb (North Africa), the Middle East, and South Asia.

Imagine no more divisive 'Shiite or Sunni' questions; Salafism rejected as a general ideology (though it could exist as a non-dominant current); Shiites finally aligning with the broader Islamic world; Kurds' post-colonial boundaries dissolving; Turkey able to expand its influence beyond its national borders; Arabs and Iranians regaining equilibrium; Iraq transitioning from fragmented nation to thriving, unified land; and a sovereign united Islamic pole taking its place in a multipolar world.

This unity faces an existential challenge posed by Israel. Yet history shows that when a shared and menacing enemy threatens sacred values, forces come together. Historical precedents are revived, while ancient traditions, prophecies, and myths gain renewed relevance, revealing their hidden meanings.

No one can yet predict how the relationship between spiritual reasoning and its immediate reality will unfold. Still, there remains a responsibility to be alert to the temporal signs and to decipher them when they are spotted. The answer will come.

**This article was coordinated and translated by Ramia Yahia**

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