On March 27, 2025, CEO and Editor Global Village Space Dr. Moeed Pirzada, sat down with two Oxford students for an elaborate discussion on Liberal Democracy and the Muslim World. Asad Iqbal, a student of Economics and Management at Oxford University joined the discussion from Oxford while Elrayees, a student of Politics, Philosophy and Economic, joined the discussion from Qatar.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Arwa, you are very articulate. Did you grow up in Qatar?
Arwa: I was born in London and lived there for five years before my family moved to Gaza, Palestine. My father’s side of the family is originally from Gaza, and we had many relatives there. When my grandfather passed away, the family felt a strong pull to return and build upon the legacy he had left behind.
I believe that experience played a key role in shaping my political awareness. Living in Gaza exposed me to the realities of the situation there. One of the things that struck me the most was that I was eventually able to leave, while many of my cousins and relatives were not. That realization gave me a sense of responsibility—an understanding that I had opportunities that others did not. Later, I moved to Qatar, where I have been living ever since.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: How long did you live in Gaza?
Arwa: Initially, we were supposed to stay for only six months, but we ended up staying for a couple of years. I was around five years old when we moved, and we left when I was about seven or seven and a half. I remember quite a lot from my time there. That experience is what ignited my interest in politics—the sense that I had been given an opportunity that many others did not have. I started to think about how I could give back, how I could make a difference. That’s what initially drew me toward politics.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: You have mentioned more than once that living in Gaza gave you a strong political consciousness, despite leaving at such a young age. That political awareness ultimately led you to Oxford, where you are now pursuing a degree in Politics and Philosophy. However, after Gaza, you spent the last decade living in Qatar. From my perspective, Qatar appears to be a much more depoliticized environment. Has living there over the years had any impact on your political engagement?
Arwa: Not at all. I think there are many misconceptions about living in the Gulf in general, and Qatar in particular. Even when I moved to the UK and mentioned that I had lived in both Gaza and Qatar, I was often met with stereotypes—many of which were completely inaccurate.
While my initial political awareness was shaped in Gaza, my ability to develop and refine my perspectives was actually nurtured in Qatar. I had numerous opportunities there, whether through platforms like Al Jazeera or school debating competitions, where I could openly discuss and explore political issues. It was never something that was suppressed. If anything, Qatar provided me with an environment that allowed me to deepen my understanding and engage more critically with these ideas.
I firmly believe that had I not lived in Qatar for the past decade, I would not have had the same opportunities, nor do I think I would have made it to Oxford. Qatar played a significant role in my academic and intellectual journey.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Asad, what brought you to Oxford? And what is the political consciousness that made you somewhat controversial, particularly in the Oxford Union debate, where you were perceived as attacking Ahsan Iqbal? What exactly happened?
Asad: First of all, thank you, Dr. Pirzada, for having me on your show. It is truly an honor to participate in this discussion. I have been following your work for years, particularly your coverage of Pakistani affairs, and I regard you as one of the few journalists in Pakistan with both an uncorrupted moral conscience and a remarkably high intellectual standard. This makes your conversations and programs incredibly insightful.
I am currently an undergraduate student at Oxford, studying Economics and Management. Having grown up in the UK, I have always had a deep respect for the strength of British institutions—particularly the rule of law, the principle that everyone is equal before the law, and the limitations placed on state power. However, when I contrast this with Pakistan, the country of my heritage, it has always saddened me to see how differently the law functions there. The Constitution of Pakistan has often been described as merely a piece of paper, used as a tool by the powerful to suppress the weak rather than uphold justice.
One stark example that highlights this disparity is that of former UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, who was fined for a simple seatbelt law violation—something unimaginable in Pakistan, where lawlessness is widespread. These contrasts have always stayed with me, fueling my interest in politics. Coming to Oxford has been an incredible experience in this regard.
Like Arwa, I have served on the Oxford Union committee for the past two terms, where I have had the opportunity to engage in difficult and often contentious discussions on topics such as Kashmir, Taiwan, and Palestine. The way Oxford fosters these debates in a truly free speech environment is something I have not seen replicated elsewhere—not on European campuses, nor even in American universities, despite their self-proclaimed status as champions of free speech. Being part of this environment has helped me deepen my political engagement.
My interest in Pakistani politics is rooted in principle. My faith teaches me that when you see something wrong in society, you should speak up against it. The Oxford Union debate was one such platform where I was able to do that. However, beyond that event, I have continually sought discussions with my peers about Pakistan’s political situation. It is encouraging to see that there are many like-minded individuals engaging in these conversations. In fact, I believe political awareness among my generation—not just about Pakistan but about issues across the Muslim world—is growing, and that is something I find deeply reassuring.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: That was very interesting to hear. Regarding Ahsan Iqbal, I got the impression that he did not fully grasp the nature of the debate or the overall sensibility of how these discussions are structured. When he responded to you, it seemed as though he felt personally attacked. However, when I watched the full debate, it was clear that this was simply part of the formal structure and ritual of the discussion. What is your perspective on this?
Asad: Well, I have been attending Oxford Union debates every week this term, and I attended many last year as well. It is a well-established tradition in these debates to introduce speakers from the opposing side with a touch of British sarcasm. So, I don’t think there was anything unprecedented or unexpected about my introduction.
I do recognize that it gained significant attention in Pakistan, but within the Oxford Union, this is a natural part of the debating culture. As for Ahsan Iqbal’s response, he had every right to use his ten minutes as he saw fit. However, I would point out what I found to be a certain hypocrisy in his remarks. He made comments about Imran Khan, referring to him as “Taliban Khan,” while in Pakistan, he himself has been labeled a “Zionist agent.” This kind of contradiction was quite evident.
What people need to understand when they come to the Oxford Union is that the audience is not naïve. They possess a strong political acumen and awareness. They are well-informed about how politics functions in developing countries and are keenly aware of the duality and contradictions often displayed by politicians.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Arwa, coming back to you—both of you have spoken, and I’ve introduced you. Now, feel free to interrupt each other. When I used to host television programs with multiple guests, I always encouraged them to interject and engage in direct exchanges rather than waiting for me to ask questions. So, if Asad is speaking, feel free to jump in, and vice versa.
Before we move on to the subject of liberal democracy—which I want to explore in depth—my aim for this discussion is to engage with two brilliant young Muslim minds from different backgrounds and understand their perspectives. I want to see how you both view democracy, liberal democracy, and the contrast between the West and the Muslim world. Why is it that the Muslim world is not a democracy?
But before we get into that complex issue, Arwa, you come from a region with a painful political consciousness. How do you view Pakistan and its current situation? What are your thoughts?
Arwa: To be honest, I’m not as well-versed in Pakistani politics as I would like to be. However, the connection between corruption and democratic structures is something that is evident not just in Pakistan but across the Arab world and the broader Muslim world as well. Of course, the reasons for corruption vary from country to country, but the pattern is undeniable. That said, I don’t know enough about the specifics of Pakistani politics to provide a detailed answer—so I wouldn’t want to speak beyond my knowledge.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: So, essentially, your understanding of Pakistani politics is limited to its association with corruption. Let’s move on to the concept of liberal democracy. You don’t have to stick to the positions you took in the Oxford debate since that was a structured argument for or against a motion. Instead, I want to understand your personal perspective.
Arwa, in the debate, you argued that liberal democracy has failed the Global South. How do you define the Global South? What do you mean by liberal democracy? And why do you believe it has failed the Global South?
Arwa: When we talk about the Global South, it’s more of an economic and developmental classification rather than a strictly political one. Countries are categorized based on their level of economic development rather than their political structures. For example, Singapore or even Qatar wouldn’t typically be considered part of the Global South in the same way that other, less economically developed nations are.
Now, when it comes to liberal democracy and its connection to the Global South, there are two ways to analyze it. First, there’s the historical aspect—how liberal democracy emerged and its ties to the Global South. Second, there’s the modern perspective, which focuses on the hypocrisy of liberal democracy in practice.
Historically, liberal democracy is, in theory, a system that champions individual rights, civil liberties, and limited government, all within a democratic framework. The question then arises: How could such universal values lead to colonialism, imperialism, or oppressive social structures?
The answer lies in the fact that these so-called “universal” values have historically been applied through a Western lens. Many key liberal thinkers—such as Rousseau, Locke, and Mill—whose ideas shaped liberal democracy also contributed to justifications for colonialism. For instance, John Stuart Mill argued that societies could embrace liberal values, except for those deemed “backward” or lacking in knowledge. He justified authoritarian governance over such societies under the pretense of “improving” them until they were supposedly ready for self-rule.
But who gets to decide what “improvement” looks like? If the standard is set by Western colonial powers, there is a clear conflict of interest. This logic allowed colonial rulers to maintain control indefinitely while claiming to be uplifting the societies they dominated. Liberal democratic principles were weaponized to justify imperialism.
A striking example is Arthur Balfour’s justification for British intervention in Egypt. He argued that Western nations had always demonstrated a capacity for self-government, while the “Orientals” had never shown such a tendency throughout history. This mindset framed non-Western societies as inherently incapable of self-rule, justifying their occupation under the guise of a civilizing mission. The end result is a distorted view of the world—where the Global South and non-Western societies are perceived as backward and in need of Western intervention.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Asad, do you also believe that liberal democratic values are inherently Western and alien to Eastern or Muslim societies?
Asad: Before addressing that directly, I’d like to respond to some of the points Arwa raised and also elaborate on the question of whether liberal democracy is intrinsically Western.
There is certainly an argument that liberal democracy has been used as a tool of oppression, justifying interventions like the war in Afghanistan and attempts to impose Western values on non-Western societies. I would agree that the West has often misused its own ideological framework in this manner. However, I don’t think the problem lies with liberal democracy itself—we should blame those who manipulate it rather than the ideology itself.
I see two key reasons for this. First, the very same United States that promoted democracy in the Middle East in the 2000s was the same country that, just two decades earlier, was arming and funding the Mujahideen—who held a completely different ideological outlook. Back then, President Reagan spoke at length about the “shared values” between the Mujahideen and conservative Americans. This inconsistency shows that Western powers use democracy as a tool when it suits their geopolitical interests.
But that does not mean liberal democracy as a system is inherently flawed—it just means it has been misapplied.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Listening to both of you, particularly the Oxford Union debate and Arwa’s points, it seems like liberal democracy is often framed in economic terms rather than political ones. But let’s clarify—what exactly is liberal democracy?
Asad: Defining liberal democracy is crucial because, particularly in the Muslim world, different interpretations prevent meaningful discourse. One way to define it is structurally—through institutions like elections, parliamentary systems, and majority rule. In this framework, civil supremacy is central.
However, I would argue that the values underpinning democracy are just as important—if not more so. Core democratic values include the rule of law, political dissent, and press freedom. These values are essential for two reasons. First, without them, you cannot have a functioning democracy. Second, they are not foreign concepts in Muslim societies. These principles are deeply embedded in our own historical and cultural traditions.
Yet, in the Muslim world and the Global South, liberal democracy is often perceived as a foreign concept imposed by the West. That perception itself is part of the challenge.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: That’s an interesting point. But I have some disagreements with what you said earlier. You mentioned that liberal democracy was used to justify interventions like the war in Afghanistan. However, the U.S. invaded Afghanistan not to impose democracy but because it believed it was under attack from Afghanistan, with Al-Qaeda operating there.
It was only after the occupation that the rhetoric of democratization emerged—framing the mission as one of modernizing Afghanistan, protecting minorities, and safeguarding women’s rights. And if we look at what has happened since the U.S. withdrawal, particularly the treatment of women, there is some truth to that argument. Half of Afghanistan’s population consists of women and girls, and today they are barred from education, employment, and public life. Female doctors are not allowed to work—it is a dire situation.
Also, in the 19th century, when Britain engaged in gunboat diplomacy against China, it was primarily driven by economic interests—not an agenda of spreading liberal democracy.
Another key distinction to make is between democracy and liberal democracy. Elections alone do not define liberal democracy. Majoritarian rule without constitutional safeguards can lead to tyranny. Liberal democracy, by definition, requires constitutionalism—a legal framework that protects minority rights, freedom of expression, and civil liberties. It ensures the protection of marginalized groups, including religious minorities, women, LGBTQ communities, and atheists.
But in the Oxford debate, and even in your responses here, there seems to be a strong emphasis on the economic dimension of liberal democracy. Why is that the case?
Arwa: I want to interject here because I feel like there may have been a misinterpretation. I don’t think liberal democracy is purely an economic concept at all. And I also don’t believe that the values of equality, autonomy, and equal rights are alien to the people of the Global South. That would be like saying we don’t believe in equality or independence, which is categorically false.
When I said these values were inherently Western, I meant that the way they have been understood and applied became Western-centric. The definitions of freedom and liberalism were framed under a Western lens. For example, for a long time, when Western societies saw a woman in a hijab, they automatically assumed she was oppressed. The reason was that her appearance did not fit into the Western conception of what it meant to be a free and liberated woman. Because it was different, it was labeled as inherently illiberal. That’s what I meant when I said liberalism became a Western concept—it was defined in a way that excluded other cultural and social expressions of freedom and autonomy.
Now, regarding Afghanistan, I acknowledge that I am not as informed on the subject as I would like to be. However, from my understanding, many Afghan people saw the U.S. intervention as failing to address the root causes of their challenges. Instead, it followed the same pattern of imposing a Western model of governance and social structure without considering the local realities. The U.S. looked at Afghan society, saw elements that were different from their own, and immediately labeled them as backward or illiberal—without distinguishing between aspects that were oppressive and those that were simply cultural or religious values held dear by the people.
The problem was that everything—whether good, bad, or neutral—was lumped together under the label of ‘barbaric’ or ‘backward,’ and the solution was framed as eradicating these differences to conform to a Western model of progress. This created the perception among Afghans that the intervention was not about liberating them but about fundamentally reshaping their society according to an external blueprint. There was a very clear image of what their society was expected to look like, and it was a Western one. For many, that meant erasing aspects of their identity, even those that were not oppressive but simply different. That’s why resistance to the intervention was not just about rejecting foreign military presence—it was also about rejecting an imposed social and ideological transformation.
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Moeed Pirzada: I was in Pakistan during all this, and I was actually in Columbia [University] when 9/11 happened—I saw what happened in New York. Later, I was in the UK when the 7/7 attacks happened, and then I was in Pakistan during the invasion and occupation of Afghanistan.
I’ve read almost every book written by American scholars, military officers, and former CIA officials on Afghanistan. To this day, despite my discussions with State Department officials and CIA personnel, I have not found a convincing explanation for the real objectives of American power in staying in Afghanistan for 20 long years.
Yes, they had to go after Al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden, but why did they remain? Was it to monitor Pakistan’s nuclear weapons? Was it to keep an eye on China and establish a strategic foothold? Perhaps that is why the Pakistani military, as accused, saw the American presence as a threat and played a “double game”—not wanting the Americans to stay permanently.
Afghanistan remains a complex issue. But let me ask you, Arwa: I see you as a young Muslim woman of Palestinian descent—empowered, confident, articulate. Surely, there are thousands of Afghan girls with similar potential, yet they are not being allowed to develop themselves. That, to me, is a tyranny. What do you think?
Arwa: Oh, no, it’s absolutely a tragedy. Nobody is saying that the Taliban regaining control of Afghanistan is a positive development. It is, without question, a tragedy.
But I don’t think anyone who has studied the situation deeply would argue that the American approach was favorable to the Afghan people. If, after 20 years of intervention, everything collapsed the moment the Americans withdrew, then clearly, what they built was not sustainable. Their institutions were either weak or fundamentally flawed.
Moeed Pirzada: But what other options did the Americans have? They built institutions, introduced elections, sent women to schools, colleges, and universities—yet they couldn’t sustain it. What else could they have done to help Afghan women?
Arwa: To be honest, I am not a policymaker, nor have I deeply researched the various international interventions that could have been undertaken.
But the fundamental issue remains: if something truly effective had emerged from 20 years of American intervention, then its departure should not have led to the immediate collapse of everything they had supposedly established. That is the core problem. Something clearly went wrong.
Now, what exactly went wrong? I cannot say with certainty. I don’t think even experts fully understand it. But something definitely failed.
Moeed Pirzada: I have some theories about what went wrong. But Asad, what do you think?
Asad: There are two things I want to touch on. First, regarding the rationale for the invasion of Afghanistan—you mentioned democracy as a justification. What I meant earlier is that democracy was not the initial justification; 9/11 and Osama bin Laden were the primary reasons.
However, after the invasion, one of the arguments used to justify the prolonged presence was the spread of democracy. Some commentators, even those not defending the invasion, argue that the U.S. stayed in Afghanistan to promote democracy in the Middle East. That is the hypocrisy I want to highlight. If the U.S. was truly invested in democratic values, then why did they fund the Mujahideen in the 1980s—who were fundamentally opposed to democracy?
So, when people say, “Oh, liberal democracy was attempted in Afghanistan, and it failed,” I reject that argument. The failure of this U.S. intervention does not mean that liberal democracy has failed the Global South.
If democratization in Afghanistan is the goal, then it must be internally driven—shaped by local customs, values, and religion. Imposing it from the outside will never work; it only breeds destruction.
Second, we should not allow the West—especially America—to monopolize values such as democracy, human rights, and the rule of law. These are not uniquely Western concepts.
Islamic history offers many examples of the rule of law, minority rights, and the separation of powers. Take, for example, Hazrat Ali (RA), who once had his sword stolen by a common citizen. When he took the case to court, the judge knew the sword belonged to him but ruled in favor of the common man because Ali (RA) could not provide a second witness. Despite being the Caliph, Ali (RA) accepted the ruling out of respect for the rule of law and minority rights.
So, I reject the notion that these values belong exclusively to the West. The real tragedy of U.S. intervention in Afghanistan is that it has antagonized people in the region—leading many to believe that any values espoused by the West must be antithetical to our own. That is a mistake. We should assert that economic liberties, property rights, and rule of law are just as much part of our historical and religious traditions.
Moeed Pirzada: Whenever the U.S. or the West has invaded any part of the Global South—especially the Muslim world—it has never been about democracy. It has always been about economic and strategic interests.
Look at Iraq, Libya—everywhere the U.S. intervened, they had geostrategic reasons. Then they wrapped their actions in the language of “liberal democracy” to bring Western liberals on board.
Let me propose something: I’m glad Asad brought up Islam, because these liberal democratic values are not necessarily antagonistic to Islam. In fact, I’ve been reading a book by an American professor, Michael Cook. It’s a thousand-page political history of the Muslim world—not a theological work.
Cook argues that Islam was a Black Swan event—an unprecedented historical transformation. No one expected a powerful state to emerge from the Arabian Peninsula, a region previously dominated by tribal societies with no centralized legal system.
The Islamic caliphate, beginning in 632 CE, introduced the concept of rule of law in a way that was more egalitarian than anything that existed in the Byzantine or Persian empires. In those empires, the law was a tool of the powerful. But Islam made the law a tool of the common people, bringing about a more democratic and equal society than what had existed before.
So why, today, do young Muslims like you believe that these values belong to the West?
Arwa: It’s not that these values inherently belong to the West. I do not believe that the West monopolizes values like equality and rule of law.
Rather, my argument is that liberal democratic values—since their inception—have always been framed through a Western lens. Historically, these values have been weaponized to serve Western interests.
Take the concept of private property. In the context of Native Americans, the West defined “productive land use” according to its own standards. They then looked at Native American land practices and deemed them unproductive—justifying their expropriation of indigenous lands.
The same logic applies to values like equality. It’s not that people in the Global South don’t value equality—in fact, Islam was a major proponent of it. But when the West promotes “equality,” it does so in a way that aligns with its own vision.
For example, when the West looked at a woman in a hijab, for a long time, they saw her as oppressed—simply because she didn’t conform to the Western ideal of a “liberated” woman. That’s what I mean when I say that liberalism, democracy, and autonomy have been interpreted through a Western lens.
The issue is not the values themselves—but the way they have been used historically to justify Western domination.
Moeed Pirzada: Islam is not inherently opposed to liberal values. The first caliphate, the Rashidun (631–661), was one of the most democratic and egalitarian societies in an era where such concepts were virtually nonexistent. So why is the Muslim world now convinced that Islam and democracy are incompatible? Out of the 48 or 49 Muslim-majority countries, not a single one is a democracy—let alone a liberal democracy. Why is that?
Arwa: I don’t think it’s because people believe Islam is incompatible with democracy. The issue lies in the institutions, which have not been strong enough to support democratic development. This is largely a result of centuries of colonial practices. If you look at the Arab Spring, it was a clear indication that people wanted democracy. However, these movements were suppressed. Many of the obstacles to democracy in the Muslim world are remnants of colonial rule and foreign interventions. The failure of democratic processes after the Arab Spring wasn’t due to a lack of desire for democracy but because of external interference. I don’t believe people in the Global South or the Arab world inherently reject democracy; rather, systemic obstacles have prevented its growth.
Asad: First, the legacy of colonialism and foreign interventions has created deep-seated skepticism toward democracy. When Western nations assert that they are “bringing democracy” to Muslim countries, it often alienates local populations, who begin to see democracy as a foreign imposition rather than a system aligned with their values. This antagonism discourages democratization.
Second, entrenched economic interests resist democracy. When power and resources are decentralized, elite groups that have long benefited from authoritarianism fear losing control. In countries like Pakistan, where economic mafias dominate key sectors, democratization threatens their monopolies. These groups, therefore, propagate narratives that frame democracy as incompatible with local traditions to safeguard their own interests.
Moeed Pirzada: Yes, the divide between rationalists and literalists in the 9th and 10th centuries was also significant. The rationalists believed that Islamic teachings should be interpreted in light of evolving societal needs, whereas the literalists insisted on a fixed, unchanging interpretation of the Quran. This rigid approach has contributed to the modern perception that democracy is un-Islamic.
Asad: The Quran itself promotes consultation and debate. There is an entire chapter, Surah Ash-Shura, dedicated to the principle of consultation. Even Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), who received divine revelation, sought the counsel of his companions. In one instance, regarding whether to confront an invading force inside or outside Medina, he changed his stance based on their input. If he engaged in consultation and debate, why do we now insist on a rigid, monolithic interpretation of governance? This kind of conservative thinking has made many Muslim societies inward-looking.
That said, adopting democracy does not mean completely replicating Western models. There is nothing wrong with retaining cultural values while identifying shared principles—such as the rule of law. For example, Pakistan could study the UK’s justice system to strengthen its own legal framework while maintaining its cultural identity. This approach is something leaders like Imran Khan have advocated.
Moeed Pirzada: Arwa, I feel that both you and Asad tend to view “the West” as a monolith. When you refer to the West, are you treating it as a single entity? There are significant ideological differences within Western nations. For instance, liberal democrats in the U.S. and U.K. genuinely believe in democratic values, whereas right-wing factions—such as Trump’s supporters—do not necessarily uphold the same principles.
Arwa: I agree with you on that. It’s important to make nuanced distinctions. However, when I refer to liberal democracies collectively, I do so in the way these countries present themselves. The United States and the UK explicitly identify as liberal democracies, and that label shapes their global image. The problem is that, over time, the idea of liberal democracy has come to represent something different from its original principles. Many in the Arab world and the Global South have become disillusioned, not because they oppose democracy itself, but because of the way it has been weaponized politically. If you explain the core principles of democracy—such as freedom and equality—most people would not reject them. The issue is how these values have been selectively applied and manipulated.
Moeed Pirzada: But this ties back to what Asad said earlier—entrenched elites actively resist democracy. Genuine democracy would bring transparency, accountability, and a fairer distribution of resources. In Pakistan, for instance, a small elite controls vast economic resources. If democratic governance were fully implemented, the younger generation and marginalized communities would demand their share. This directly threatens the ruling elite, which is why they align with religious scholars to frame democracy as un-Islamic.
Additionally, conservative elements in society reinforce this resistance. Many ultra-conservative men in Muslim societies reject gender equality, favoring patriarchal structures where women are confined to domestic roles. Their resistance to liberal democracy stems from fears that it would dismantle these power dynamics.
Arwa: Exactly. But if we claim these patriarchal attitudes are rooted in Islam, that is entirely inaccurate. The notion that women are inferior is not an Islamic principle but an interpretation designed to serve the interests of those in power.
Asad: I agree, but this highlights a broader challenge. While we have emphasized the commonalities between Islam and democracy, there are also differences. Instead of blindly adopting Western democratic models, Muslim-majority countries should develop democratic systems that align with their own cultural and religious values. The key is ensuring that any legal framework—regardless of its basis—follows the rule of law and does not privilege the powerful at the expense of the weak.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Let me throw a difficult question to both of you. You’re Oxford students—why is it that Muslims do not argue that radio, television, handheld mobile devices, F-16 fighter jets, and all other technological advancements are un-Islamic because they originate from the West? Why are they so ready to use everything except the principles of democracy?
Arwa: I don’t think that’s a fair question. I don’t believe people are inherently against democracy. If you were to sit people down and deconstruct what liberal democratic values truly are, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who outright rejects them. The issue is not with the values themselves but with what liberal democracy, as a packaged concept, has come to mean for the Global South.
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For many, it represents a system of hypocrisy—rights for some but not for others. The disillusionment is not with democratic ideals but with how they have been implemented globally. Liberal democracy, in practice, often appears selective. Take the Israel-Palestine situation, for example. Even if we put aside broader historical contexts and focus solely on the West Bank, billions have been funneled into the Israeli government, which has been setting up illegal outposts on Palestinian land for decades. This became public knowledge through the 2005 Sasson Report, so the West is fully aware of these violations. Yet, they continue to support a government that fundamentally contradicts liberal democratic ideals in its treatment of Palestinians.
This creates the perception that democracy and human rights are upheld only when they serve Western interests. People in the Muslim world and the Global South are not rejecting the ideals of democracy—they are rejecting the double standards in how democracy is applied.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Arwa, what are you planning to do after Oxford?
Arwa: I will probably look for opportunities in British government and policymaking. My goal is to contribute to bridging the gap between the Muslim world and the West. There aren’t enough voices from people who have experienced the realities of both worlds firsthand.
Many of my discussions in the UK have revolved around Palestine, and I’ve often been told, “You don’t know what you’re talking about because you weren’t there.” But I have lived it. I have seen the double standards and hypocrisy firsthand. Having that perspective and being able to voice it in places where institutions are well-established—such as the UK—can have a much greater impact than simply being immersed in the same environment I came from. There is still a lot of work to be done to build understanding between these two worlds, and I hope my voice can contribute to that process.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Asad, what about you?
Asad: Politics is undoubtedly an interest of mine, as I believe it should be for everyone in our generation. I reject the mindset of those who declare themselves “apolitical” or “politically neutral” because even that is a political stance.
That being said, I believe Muslims must enter a diverse range of fields. A society or community can only thrive if all its organs function effectively. As a student of economics and management, I am particularly interested in finance and investment banking. This field will provide me with a strong skill set while also allowing me to pursue my passion for business and facilitating large financial transactions.
However, what is truly necessary is a mindset shift among Muslims. Firstly, we must constantly pursue excellence, and in many areas, I have been pleased to see the Muslim community doing exactly that. The second, and equally important, aspect is ensuring that we attach a broader societal purpose to our work—no matter the field. It is not enough to simply achieve individual success; we must also think about how we contribute to the wider community.
Arwa: I just want to add something here because this is something I feel very strongly about. In the Arab world, and where I was raised, subjects like politics, philosophy, and the humanities are often looked down upon. I’m not sure how it is in Pakistan, but in my father’s time, students were directed toward fields based on their grades.
The highest achievers were encouraged to become doctors and engineers, while those with lower grades were funneled into religious studies, politics, and economics. This meant that the very foundations of society—such as politics, economics, and, in the Muslim world, even religious scholarship—were left in the hands of those who were not necessarily the brightest minds.
This has created a fundamental mismatch in talent distribution. I hope that by seeing more Muslims engaging in politics, economics, and philosophy, we can begin to change the prevailing mentality and encourage intellectualism in these critical fields.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Why do you think the Indian diaspora and Indian-origin academics have made such a strong impact in both social sciences and sciences? Whenever I visit bookstores like Barnes & Noble, I see new books by Indian authors every week. These books are not just about India—they cover subjects like biological sciences, medicine, geography, American history, and global history. Why don’t we see as many books from Pakistani or Muslim-origin authors?
Asad: I was recently reading about the decline of intellectualism in the Muslim world, and many scholars trace it back to the triumph of conservative forces over rationalists in early Islamic history. Over the last few centuries, the brightest minds in the Muslim world have been systematically directed toward specific fields. In some regions, they turned to Sufism; in others, they were pushed toward medicine, engineering, or IT.
The fundamental issue is that we do not encourage intellectualism or debate—from the household level all the way up to national institutions. If we begin fostering intellectual engagement, we will see significant changes at both the micro and macro levels. Not only will we see Muslims entering a more diverse range of fields, but we may also witness broader political and institutional reforms, such as increased democratization in countries like Pakistan.
Dr. Moeed Pirzada: Thank you so much!