An interview with an Iraqi scholar has led me to think very differently about Brexit and extremism in Europe

‘In Shiasm,’ the great man, Sayed Hakeem, reminds me, ‘the more knowledge a scholar has, the more humble he must be – otherwise he will become a dictator’

‘Different from what Khomeini taught’: Sayed Mohamed-Hussain el-Hakeem at Najaf (Maher Soltan)

Sayed Mohamed-Hussain el-Hakeem is one of the most prominent Shia scholars in Iraq. When Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani eventually dies, Hakeem’s father Mohamed Sayeed is likely to inherit his role as the principal cleric in the land – and then, so they say, the mantle will fall to Hakeem’s brother, Riyadh. So this discreet man “speaketh of what he knoweth” and, in his precise way, he comes across as a supporter of humanism rather than mere theology. When you sit opposite him, you know you are listening to a voice that matters in the battered land of Iraq.

Dozens of Sayeds and turbaned students push out of the iron door to his lecture hall only a few hundred metres from the golden-domed shrine of the Imam Ali, cousin of the Prophet Mohamed. But Sayed Hakeem does not mince his words – neither political nor spiritual. No, you realise, Iran does not govern the minds of Iraq’s Shia. Nor does any fear of Isis. Or the west. Saddam haunts our conversation – as he does still all of Iraq – but so does the Shah, even the Ottoman Empire.

We start with the Ottomans. “They did not have any scientific achievement. They governed their people by force. They kept their people in darkness – they made them distant from science. When the west came with its science, its strategy was to divide countries so they could control them more easily. The First and Second World Wars left these internal conflicts to continue and the west looked after their own interests, not the UN or human rights. But wars are not just in this region – the conflict between Germany and France was like that between Iraq and Iran [during Saddam’s 1980-1988 invasion of Iran].”

So far so good, and all familiar stuff. “Then in Europe, political interests succeeded personal interests. They created the EU and tried to develop it. But if Europe gives way to rightest extremism, the conflict [here] will return back to Europe. If [the Europeans] allow this, they will not have a common basis to work on. We don’t wish this to happen. We hope that the conflict does not develop – and that the US does not feed right-wing extremists so that they prevail. They are already doing this – with Brexit!”

Smiles all round in the Sayed’s little office. I had not expected Brexit would make its appearance, not here, so close to the great shrine of Ali, the Prophet’s successor – and to the poor house in which Khomeini himself stayed in his Iraqi exile until 1979. “In Shiasm,” the great man reminds me, “the more knowledge a scholar has, the more humble he must be – otherwise he will become a dictator.” Shiasm understands the Western world more than we think, perhaps, and it is certainly independent. Of Iran for example, whose Farsi language the Sayed speaks only a little. When I ask if perhaps Iran can eventually dominate Shia Iraq – where Shias comprise 65 per cent of the population – I am treated to a lecture on the principles of regional theology.

“We follow the school of Najaf [in Iraq], which is different from other schools,” he says. “Scientifically, all the Shia schools are the same. But we don’t interfere with politics. We Shia are like our Grand Ayatollahs – they are free in their thoughts as to how they understand the Prophet and the 12 Imams. Different views are respected.”

Here the little lecture narrows its focus. “We had different views from the ‘marjaiya’ [superior scholars] of Qom [in Iran]. We don’t think there should be a supreme leader – this is different from what Khomeini taught. Here we should not be involved in politics.” The message is obvious. Khomeini’s concept of a supreme clerical leader – at present, it is the ageing Iranian Ayatollah Khamenei – has no meaning in Najaf. Indeed, though Sayed Hakeem does not say this, the idea of a supreme leader had no historical precedence in Iran itself.

And we turn swiftly to recent Middle Eastern history. The Shah of Iran was called “the policeman” of the Gulf. “He had strong ties with the west. When the regime changed in Iran, the country came out of that axis. The new revolution in Iran had problems with the west, especially after the siege of the US embassy. Iran is a strong country and other nations feared the new government. Look at history – three strong nations, Turkey, Iraq and Palestine [Israel] surrounded Iran with powerful armies. The Gulf played a good role in that. Every war needs men and money. The west was generous in providing guns.”

There is a brief historical intermission here, the arrival in our talk of the post-Renaissance. “In the west, 300 years ago, there was conflict between the church and scientists. Scientists prevailed because they were raised on scientific facts. The people backed up the scientists. Our faith does not conflict with this science.”

Was this, I wondered, a subtle alignment with western thought, maybe a touch of Martin Luther amid Muslim theology? Sayed Hakeem has more to say on another, more recent phenomenon with darker roots: Isis. He speaks with more vigour now, of an organisation “that tried to feed hatred into people – so they raised people to believe in black and white, whom they used against us. Isis, when they go into society, they isolate some people from the outside world.”

This is a different interpretation of the Isis death cult which our western “experts” define. “They are trying to use people who are hopeless – to give them a false hope. They approach ‘hopeless’ people, they try to give them a window of hope that ‘this is the only chance you have’. They are trying to make an internal conflict inside these people to pull them towards their false ideology. Bin Laden once said that they should focus on the ages between 18 and 25… During their teens, human beings are in self-conflict, with high hopes but few resources – and Isis use this conflict to capture their minds, those who did not enjoy the end of their childhood. So Isis gave them big responsibility and said ‘you are not a child any more’.”

This violent ideology must be changed, the Sayed says. “Isis was not born in Iraq – in Mosul, Tikrit or Ramadi. It is a result of outside ideology, planning and funding ... There is a political hand which is feeding the ideology of the [Sunni] Wahabis. We have to convince them that violence will bring more violence. They have to coexist. There are factors that can reduce this ‘internal hatred’: knowledge and culture, productive work, coexistence and humanitarian values.” These are interesting words from a man whose people fought a long and bitter war against Isis. For Wahabis, I suspect, read Saudis.

Saddam’s horrors – not unconnected in the Sayed’s mind from Isis, I suspect – proved the resilience of Shias. And Hakeem repeats that Shia Muslims are “balanced between life and the other life, so at the peak of a crisis we take [to help us] hope and great patience – this is our step to the future”. Was this how they endured the torture chambers and death pits of Saddam, the decades of imprisonment, the mass murders of Shias by Isis? Humanism wins. Is that what this means? Theology is a dangerous subject for journalists to explain.

Maybe that’s why, when for a few moments I meet his elderly father – the next great Ayatollah of Iraq – he holds out his ancient hand to me and says: “There are two kinds of journalists, the ones who tell lies. And the ones who try to tell the truth – I hope you are one of the second.” We shall find out the answer when his son Sayed Mohamed-Hussain el-Hakeem reads these words.