Sharif al-Jurjani defines injustice as: "placing something in other than its proper place, and in Islamic law: it refers to transgressing from truth to falsehood, which is oppression (jawr). It has also been said: it is interfering with others' property and exceeding limits" (1).
As for victimhood mentality, I see it as: "a state in which a person perceives themselves as perpetually wronged, believing their opponents—no matter who they are—are always unjust. This serves to justify their own mistakes, evade responsibility and accountability, and gain the sympathy of others."
A person with a victimhood mentality may have genuinely been wronged at some stage, but the repeated occurrence of injustice against them—in their perception—does not necessarily mean their opinion is correct, their stance is innocent, or their decisions are sound.
There is a significant difference between being wronged and seeking to remove injustice through legitimate means, and living in a state of victimhood that breeds passivity, acceptance of reality, inaction toward change, and waiting for relief and change to come from others.
Islamic movements emerged during a difficult period for the Muslim world, marked by the abolition of the Islamic Caliphate, which had served as a unifying institution for Muslims.
Muslims found themselves orphaned, vulnerable to exploitation, with their nation-states unable to defend them—most of which were under colonial rule. Their rulers and kings were largely influenced by Westernization, allowing secularism to spread and entrench itself in societies, even if they maintained some respect for Islamic rituals and practices.
These movements lifted Islam’s adherents from the narrow confines of nationalism to the vastness of Islam’s glory and greatness, dispelling Orientalist and secularist doubts with the light of certainty and clear proofs of Islam’s superiority. They revived the religious and cultural renaissance of the Muslim world.
After organizing themselves into strong hierarchical structures, they became a refuge for those with no refuge, taking upon themselves major causes such as restoring the Caliphate, resisting colonialism, fighting Zionism, and combating the corruption of ruling regimes.
At this point, colonial powers and internal regimes recognized the threat posed by these movements and worked to suppress, distort, obstruct, and eliminate their leaders. Eventually, these movements fell into the clutches of these forces, entering a tunnel of tribulation (mihna) through killings, imprisonment, torture, and persecution.
They labeled the events that befell them in recurring years as "mihna" (ordeal), comforting themselves with this description without critically analyzing it to identify their own shortcomings and mistakes.
Some books documenting these periods, such as The Black Gate... The Secret History of the Prison and The Devil’s Dungeons by Ahmad Ra'if, and Days of My Life by Zaynab al-Ghazali, among others, depicted aspects of this ordeal.
External Conspiracies
Undoubtedly, external and internal conspiracies were at their peak, but this does not negate self-inflicted errors. Constantly attributing mistakes to others is not a positive sign—it neither addresses crises nor acknowledges faults, instead projecting an image of self-purity while demonizing others.
Tribulations elevate some and degrade others; a person’s rank in this world corresponds to their trials. For instance, Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal’s steadfastness during the Mihna (inquisition) elevated his status, making him an imam of Ahl al-Sunnah, while disgrace haunted those who harmed him.
However, when the ordeal becomes synonymous with complete helplessness, negligence, and self-exoneration from any fault, it becomes reprehensible.
This negative understanding led to a lack of critical review of ideas, stances, policies, and visions. How could they reassess these when they believed they were always right and others always wrong? If an ordeal does not serve as a catalyst for action and dynamism, it becomes a trial (fitna).
Some conflated steadfastness on principles—a commendable trait—with stagnation, passivity, waiting for fate to unfold, and blaming others. Consequently, they relived nearly identical events, sometimes with the same individuals who had experienced them before.
Thus, the ordeal repeated itself verbatim, and statements attributed to founding leaders began to emerge, reinforcing the perpetuation of the "ordeal mentality." One such statement, attributed to a prominent imam, claimed: "If prisons are opened for you and gallows are raised, know that your call has begun to bear fruit."
Having contributed to compiling his legacy across fifteen volumes, I had reservations about this statement. Upon reviewing his entire body of work, I found no trace of it. Based on my familiarity with his style and thought, I strongly doubt its authenticity—the "fiqh of ordeal" (jurisprudence of tribulation) was not part of his discourse. This mentality emerged later.
We now see that the history of some leaders within Islamic movements is reduced solely to their imprisonment during certain eras. Is this history alone sufficient to qualify them for leadership and prominence?
Leadership requires qualifications beyond enduring tribulations. Moreover, Islamic movements are burdened by their past, which haunts them at every stage of their progress, limiting their mobility.
Accountability and Review
This restricts their room for maneuver. At times, it may be beneficial for the broader Islamic movement—particularly in politics—if these older movements and parties allow their active members to break away and establish new, dynamic parties unshackled by this past. This would broaden their scope of action, while the older parties remain with their historical leadership and entrenched frameworks. This should not be seen as a split, even if some perceive it as such, but rather as shedding old skin and breaking free from a past they did not participate in but which pursues them.
The victimhood mentality among some leaders has become a means of evading accountability, review, and correction. In their view, Islamic movements should not be held accountable for their positions, decisions, or the imprisonment of their members.
This is an abdication of responsibility, an invitation to stagnation, and a way to ease their conscience. This rigidity has become evident in their inability to keep pace with rapidly unfolding events or engage with them effectively.
Remaining in the garb of victimhood keeps its adherents perpetually under suspicion—seen as weak, powerless individuals incapable of shaping events. In this state, people turn away from them, as humanity is naturally drawn to the strong, even if they exhibit some harshness or injustice.
As for the weak, who cannot protect themselves, let alone others, no one will desire to see them in leadership again. People will not entrust their affairs to them.
Transitioning from the mentality of ordeal to the jurisprudence of statehood has become an urgent necessity to rescue Islamic movements from oblivion—before rescuing societies and peoples themselves.
Read Also: Skills for Advocating for the Oppressed
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(1) The Definitions, p. 186.