Although somewhat dated (this book is slightly older than me, and discusses a part of the world in constant and dramatic flux), I thought this book was a helpful starting point for better understanding the reservations that Middle Easterners (she calls them Arabs, so I think I will too) have about Democracy, something seen as self-evidently good by most westerners. Of course it is partially the Islamic disdain for certain lifestyles that are protected in the West (homosexuality, alcohol, etc.), it is more a combination of that with deeper philosophical and theological issues, such as those Rene Guenon raises (he's at least nominally a Muslim).
One of the first things you'll notice about this book is that the author is very linguistically-oriented in her approach, which is quite fun. She doesn't sacrifice the precision of the existing Arabic words to describe what she wants to talk about, and she gives good explanations of each term. It does get to be a bit much at a couple points, but overall it adds a lot of flavor and legitimacy to the book. The first such term is one explained on the first page, gharb, which is the Arabic word for the West, and is very close to gharib the strange and foreign. I find this interesting because in a zoomed out view, I could call the Muslim world part of "The West", and everything to the east of it as "The East", but it seems that Arabs (and Russians, for that matter) see themselves as sitting on a border between two worlds, both in a geographical sense, as well as a socio-theological sense. Arabs are trapped in an in-between life in so many ways: they live in fear of America and the West, but they consume so many of their products, especially their weapons and their media; they live in anticipation of the Resurrection, but Middle-Eastern nations are among the most materialistic/consumeristic of any nations on earth, especially in terms of luxury goods.
Essentially, they attempt to live as Premoderns in a Modern (or Postmodern) world, and this causes a lot of tension. The author at one point criticizes Arabs for taking the technology that Modernism has produced but rejecting the social changes that she sees as corollary. I actually found myself agreeing with the Islamic approach a surprising amount of times throughout this book. I actually think perhaps the ideal moving forward is something like a premodern society (one which puts a heavy emphasis on morality, less emphasis on innovation) who can use the fruits of the industrial and technological revolutions, without being consumed by them. I, as a premodern-minded person, agree to a small degree with Ted K and others that Industrialization and Modernization have been catastrophic in many ways, and I thought the author's love and defense of Modernity was pretty one-sided. Perhaps we're both suffering from a case of "the grass is always greener", where those in a premodern society yearn for the emancipation of a modern society, while those in a [post]modern society yearn for the stability and enchantment of a premodern society. It seems like the obvious answer is to have some mixture of the two, to find a balancing point if possible (which many extremists claim is impossible).
It's this visceral reaction to "innovation" that Islam is so historically infamous for, as the start of the book explains two main groups who try to deal with imams: the falasifa (poets, philosophers, Sufis, etc.) and the Kharijites, who favored violence to depose anyone they disagreed with. Historically, it seems the latter has won out considerably more often than the former, and as a result the author argues that islam has favored the group over the individual, conformity over freedom. I would contest that these dichotomies that the author raised aren't so black and white: sometimes, the individual should be favored, sometimes the group; similarly, freedom as an end instead of a means ends in libertine insanity. The author, per her modernism, was all in favor of one, which seems to me to be an obvious over-correction; all premodern-minded people know that, though superficially good, reason ('aql) and personal opinion (ra'y) are all to often covers for atheist nihilism and subjectivist dissent, respectively. The problem I have is narrowing down exactly what caused the shift in Islam away from the philosophical and esoteric to the stagnated, exoteric nature of contemporary Islam. Muslims always brag about how they had some of the greatest philosophical minds of the middle ages, but how did we get to the point where they have almost no contemporary thinkers to speak of? The author explained the shift as that of a favoring of the Kharijites (those who violently killed any imams they disagreed with, instead of using intellectual argument) over the Mu'tazila, the Hellenized philosophers, who were repressed and condemned as agents of the gharb.
Another thing which aided that shift was Shahrastani's statement that, "Those who believe something or say something only have two choices: either to adopt a belief, that is, to adhere to a preexisting idea and borrow it, or to fabricate one from one's own arrogant personal opinion." Apart from the unnecessarily harsh ending ("arrogant" need not be there), I totally agree with this, and I think this is actually the root problem of the postmodern hopelessness that so many people feel; we are all told that we need to "be unique" and "not let anyone tell us what to do" and "make our own meaning", but those people direly underestimate the incredible willpower, intelligence, and wisdom required to create an entire worldview, i.e. to create a religion. Not even Friedrich Nietzsche was strong enough to hold up under the weight of his own demands, the classic "transvaluation of all values". This modern cliche is an overreaction to those who thoughtlessly accepted the religion/traditions of their forefathers. I would hope that it's evident to all thinking people that both routes are folly, that absolute rebellion against a system is just as stupid as unquestioningly following the system.
The unique problem that Islam faces is that when you take this (largely correct) statement of Shahristani's and you combine that with a religion which emphasizes absolute "submission" and "obedience" and "slavery" to God, you get a lot of problems, and society essentially freezes in place. On the Christian perspective, we are children of God, Christ is our Brother, and in families, of course there is obedience that is expected, but there is also a relationship, a maturation and kinship which is inaccessible to muslims who are forever separated from the divine One, who are forever lesser, forever slaves. Of course, we all are [ideological] slaves, we must all choose our masters, but some masters are willing to adopt their servants and make them heirs, while others are fine with slaves remaining slaves.
But let us return to the book. The author traces most of the issues in the Middle East to its heavy importation of weapons and goods from the west, while producing mostly just oil and gas. This means that ambitious scholars, students, and workers leave the region for more opportunities in Europe and elsewhere, but they face hostility in said emigration. The author complains that this lack of tolerance of scientific inquiry causes a dependency on the west and thus leaves large numbers of people unemployed and alienated. The most "avant-garde" thinking that is tolerated is that of Rafa'at al-Tahtawi, who wants freedom of belief and opinion, "with one sole condition: do not leave Islam." This of course is no real freedom of belief or opinion. This lack of freedom of religion is intrinsic to many of the countries in the region, as Mernissi points out: "The fundamentalists' argument is that if Islam is separated from the state, no one will any longer believe in Allah and the memory of the Prophet will dim... Such reasoning is in fact an insult to Islam, with its suggestion that Islam can succeed only if it is imposed on people in a totalitarian manner". I can't help but find this a very telling quote, especially in how much Christianity is its opposite; Christianity rose to power peacefully and has been relinquishing control peacefully since the enlightenment, whereas Islam took power through violence and maintains that power primarily through violence and coercion. Despite both being Abrahamic religions who make objective truth claims, one of them was open enough to engender a society that would write the United Nations' Declaration of Human Rights, while the other signs said declaration and flatly denies many of the rights guaranteed by it.
Perhaps the biggest reason the Arab world rejects those "rights" is how closely they resemble the jahiliyya, or "the chaotic pagan world before Islam"; in that pluralistic world, people insulted gods who didn't serve them, etc. When Muslims see charters like that, it reminds them of the pre-islamic era, which would mean a regression to a worse time if they accepted it. The irony of course is that Islam is itself a regression (which they are the first to admit, with Muslims repeatedly claiming that their religion is THE primordial religion, hence the term "revert" instead of "convert").
The author makes a compelling case linking the veiling of muslim women with a rejection of the pagan war goddesses which dominated the jahiliyya-era Mecca. Mernissi uses relevant arabic terms to link the destruction of these goddesses in the Ka'ba with the seeking for peace (salam) in that chaotic and swirling jahiliyya world. On the altar of this Peace were sacrificed all shirk, all deviation, all "joining with allah", i.e. absolute submission and conformity was the route chosen. There is something both wise and unwise about this. I would agree insofar that many people have as their god some idea of "freedom" or "liberty", however vaguely or ideologically warped, and that should always be secondary to following God ("We must obey God rather than men"). But we should not conflate the two like the woman Mernissi quoted (upon hearing Pres. Bush's State of the Union speech): "Is democracy a religion?"
Tied in with her case of [female goddesses > female hijabs] is a corresponding disdain for the material and the mortal due to the focus on resurrection (which she saw as a rejection of the birthing done by women). I see this as a one-sided look at afterlife, which can either neuter this life, or it can free this life so that you act more boldly than if you thought this was your only life. The latter is certainly what the early Muslim and Christian histories show, whereas today the former may be more common. This may be why the author (Mernessi) and Nietzsche both looked negatively on such phenomenon.
Though I think that her chasing after making a point about the present/temporality/time/calendars was kinda a stretch, I thought her remarks on the below were interesting:
Islam cannot be threatened by the discoveries of astronomy, such as the observation of new galaxies, because its vision is of a cosmos in movement. Threats to its authority do not come from outside, but from within human beings. It is imagination, and the irreducible sovereignty of the individual which engender disequilibrium and tension. A Galileo challenging the authority of Islam must be not a scientist but an essayist or a novelist, a Salman Rushdie, and exploration of the psyche will surely be the area of all future sedition.
And this quote I think goes somewhat against her earlier point about Islam fearing the mortal/material in the woman, since it's not the scientific that they're scared of, but the human (not unlike Communism in its high enforcement cost). As Mernessi pointed out later in the book "From the moment any crisis began, it was women and wine that were condemned. For centuries women and wine were regarded as the source of all our troubles." When you combine this disdain for women with finally educating them, it's no surprise that they routinely become modernists and feminists. I only wonder if they'll ever look back with longing on the Muslim world of yore if/when the middle east ever fully modernizes, like us in the post-Christian west.