determined by the law of dhimma (protected non-Muslim subjects), non-Muslims paid
the jizya (poll tax) and were deprived of some rights in the lands of Daru’l-Islam, while
being Muslim represented having superior legal rights. The relations established with the
status of Muslims living in other regions were determined by the actions of the actors in
governing positions, while for ordinary Muslims, the attitude of the rulers towards other
Muslims determined their legitimacy. If a ruler, despite having the power and authority,
refused to help Muslims in other regions in need, it meant jeopardising their social
legitimacy. Or, in other words, it meant jeopardising their political power over their
subjects. This is because they would have created an opportunity for different actors
aiming to share power to attack them with the accusation of ‘not helping Muslims’. The
argument of ‘not helping Muslims’ in the fatwas of deposition or in certain uprisings in
the Ottoman Empire is supportive of this.
The notion of a monolithic West is considered necessary for the perception of a monolithic
Muslim World. Indeed, according to Aydın, the perception of the Muslim World gained a
different dimension in the context of the external threat of Western colonial activities,
and therefore, this perception constructed a monolithic image of the West (2017, pp. 5–
7). However, the point overlooked by this argument is that the definition of the Western
World is not new. The Crusades in the pre-modern era, the religious motivation in the
exploitation of the non-Western world during the early colonial period, the systematic
genocide of Muslims and Jews in Andalusia, and similar actions created a Christian-based
image of the West, and the West itself does not deny this. This approach, which
transcended the Middle Ages and extended into the modern era, was also relevant when
determining the fate of the ‘Sick Man’ Ottoman Empire during the time of the Concert of
Europe, despite all its internal differences. The Question Orientale was the attempt to
define this unity according to its internal balance. Therefore, to understand the military-
political unity practices of the West before the 19th century—for example, the motivation
(apart from some elites with economic aims) in the Crusades—we must accept the reality
of a common Christian-Western identity and motivation. However, this is not the ‘unity’
that precedes the homogeneity understood today. Furthermore, it should also be stated
that the people living in the lands targeted by this unity (Muslims or the Muslim World)
constituted a different kind of unity in the eyes of the Crusaders.
The argument that the belief in unity and the concept of Ummah among Muslim societies
emerged with modern technological developments like the train, telegraph, steamship,
and printing press, and was practically absent before that, also contains a generalisation
like the one above. Yes, of course, the speed and scale of social mobilisation increased
greatly in the modern era; but when it comes to the Muslim World, factors such as
relations among the ulama (scholars), long Rihlas (journeys for seeking knowledge) for
education, the mobilisation of Sufi orders (tariqas) and dervishes, and the high-scale and
rapid practice of trade have never interrupted relations among Muslims. Considering the
geographical reach of the Halvetiyya, Tijaniyya, Naqshbandiyya, or Qadiriyya, we are
taking the entire Muslim World into account. The diffusion of common knowledge and the
shared conceptualisation of unity (which we mentioned above is implicit in mutual
responsibilities) throughout the entire Darulislam, merely through the education received
in politically and intellectually central cities such as Istanbul, Damascus, Cairo, or
the Haramayn, and the subsequent spread of this knowledge via students, indicates that