Introduction: A Crisis of Political Imagination

Many Muslims today believe that Islamic governance is no longer realistic. They see the failures of modern Muslim states and assume our tradition has no answers. So they turn instead to the Western models of liberal democracy, realism, or secular authoritarianism.

This shift is often unconscious. It’s been shaped by the dominance of Western political thinkers like Machiavelli and Bismarck. To many, Machiavelli’s The Prince is the ultimate guide to power: cold, cynical, and effective.

But long before Machiavelli had ever even picked up a pen, Muslims had their own political masterpiece—Siyasatnama by Nizam al-Mulk. It was studied for centuries by viziers, sultans, and statesmen, and it offered not just strategy but also ethics, justice, and vision.

We’ve forgotten our own models. Some remember Nizam al-Mulk through dramatized Turkish series like Buyuk Selcuklu, but very few actually understand the depth of his real contribution. It’s time to look beyond TV and reclaim what we have lost.

Who Was Nizam al-Mulk?

Nizam al-Mulk (d. 1092) was no ordinary vizier. He served under the greatest Seljuk rulers Alp Arslan and Malik Shah and shaped one of the most powerful Islamic empires in history.

He wasn’t merely managing a court. He was building a civilization.

His manual, Siyasatnama (“The Book of Government”), is a rich text that offered guidance to rulers on everything from tax policy to judicial fairness and military discipline. But unlike Machiavelli, Nizam rooted each and every idea in the fear of Allah and the pursuit of justice.

He saw governance as a trust from Allah, not as some sort of power grab. He understood that a ruler is answerable not just to his people but also to the Creator.

Nizam didn’t just stick to writing books. He built institutions. Most famously, he established the Nizamiyyah madrasahs, a network of elite schools across the Islamic world. These institutions weren’t limited to teaching theology alone. They taught Islamic sciences, secular sciences, philosophy, statecraft, and tasawwuf (spiritual rectification and development).

Imam al-Ghazali, one of the most influential thinkers in Islamic history, was not only a graduate of this system, but he became one of its star professors, teaching at the Nizamiyyah of Baghdad. Through his teachings, the Nizamiyyah system cultivated a generation of students who combined legal acumen, spiritual discipline, and loyalty to the Muslim state.

One of the indirect beneficiaries of this intellectual legacy was Salahuddin al-Ayyubi. While he had lived after Nizam al-Mulk’s death, Salahuddin and many of his military and administrative elite were shaped by the Nizamiyyah worldview—rooted in Islamic unity, spiritual refinement, and service to the Muslim ummah. This system produced not just scholars but warriors of both the sword and the soul.

Nizam also organized a state intelligence network to protect the empire from internal threats, particularly the “Hashashin” of the Batinis, a secretive Isma’ili sect that was engaged in political assassinations. He did this not through brutality but rather strategy, successfully safeguarding the Muslim ummah from collapse.

He was the architect of Seljuk political stability. He mentored sultans. He protected orthodoxy. He unified knowledge and power under one vision—and we still live in the long shadow of his accomplishments.

RELATED: The Bātinī Sects: A History of Aiding Colonizers and the Enemies of Islam

Machiavelli vs. Nizam al-Mulk: Two Worlds, Two Models

Machiavelli lived in 15th-century Italy—a time of betrayal, bloodshed, and corruption. He wrote The Prince after working for the illegitimate son of Pope Alexander VI, Cesare Borgia, a man surrounded by scandal, violence, and decay.

Unsurprisingly, Machiavelli’s philosophy reflects that world. Control people by fear. Use deception. Appear religious if needed, but don’t actually believe any of it. Morality is optional. Power is not.

Nizam al-Mulk lived in a very different world. He wasn’t advising a gangster draped in religious robes. He was guiding Muslim rulers who still feared Allah and honored the Shari’ah.

Where Machiavelli promoted manipulation, Nizam emphasized justice. Where Machiavelli encouraged fear, Nizam stressed accountability—to both the people and Allah.

For Machiavelli, religion was useful as a mask. For Nizam, it was the source of legitimacy.

Machiavelli saw the state as supreme. Nizam saw the state as a servant of divine law.

One glorified cunning and deceit. The other upheld wisdom and righteousness.

And yet, today, Machiavelli is taught in universities as though he is the ultimate authority on power, while Siyasatnama is ignored and continues to gather dust.

The Myth of the Saint vs. the Politician

Western political theory promotes the dangerous idea that one cannot be both morally upright and politically effective.

In their view, the saint must retreat from the world, and the politician must leave ethics behind. This false divide is the result of their own religious history—where Church and State often clashed; and where moral leadership seemed incompatible with real-world power.

But Islam has always rejected this split.

The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was the head of state, military commander, chief judge, and the most spiritually elevated human being. He didn’t have to choose between politics and piety. He was the perfect example of both.

The Khulafa’ al-Rashidun followed this model. Abu Bakr رضي الله عنه led armies and preserved Qur’anic revelation. ‘Umar رضي الله عنه created a justice system that is studied to this today. ‘Uthman رضي الله عنه compiled the Qur’an and governed an expanding empire. ‘Ali combined unmatched scholarship with political leadership.

Later, we had ‘Umar ibn ‘Abd al-‘Aziz—a caliph who ruled with such sincerity and reform that many called him the “fifth rightly guided caliph.”

They all ruled. They all prayed. They all served. They proved that the “saint vs. statesman” idea is a false dilemma—a product of flawed systems, not divine truth.

Islam provides a model where one can lead with both strength and sincerity. That model still exists. We’ve just forgotten how to apply it.

RELATED: Salah al-Din al-Ayyubi: Lessons From Medieval Geopolitics to Today’s Muslim World

The Roots of Secularism and the Myth of It Being Necessary

Secularism in the West wasn’t born from progress—it was born from failure, specifically the failure of the Christian Church to provide a rational and livable framework for society.

Christian theology was filled with contradictions: the illogical nature of the Trinity, original sin, the divinity of Jesus, and the forced celibacy of priests. These ideas often clashed with sound reason and human nature.

By forcing monogamy on all, the Church drove the nobility and rich into secret affairs and double lives. Eternal celibacy for the clergy bred unnatural repression and gave rise to scandals involving church boys. Selling pardons turned salvation into a business, and the obsession with intermediaries opened up the door to unchecked abuse. With Biblical law abandoned, society spiraled into moral chaos—and the Church had no answers.

This dysfunction led to deep disillusionment. People didn’t just leave the Church—they rejected religion itself. That’s where secularism, atheism, and liberalism stepped in to fill the void.

But Islam was never like this. Its theology is simple, pure, rational, and consistent. One God. Same message. No mystery. No confusion.

Islamic law is holistic. It speaks to every part of life—family, politics, economics, ethics, etc. It never divorced religion from reason or reality.

There was no war between the mosque and the state. They worked together—harmoniously—for centuries. Shari’ah was the standard, not the problem.

So unlike Europe, the Muslim world had no need to “separate religion from power.” Secularism didn’t emerge from within. It was forced from the outside.

Colonial powers dismantled Islamic courts, banned madrasahs, ridiculed scholars, and pushed secular ideologies as “modern” and “rational.” All while erasing our political legacy.

But the truth is, secularism was offered as a fix for Christianity’s collapse—not Islam’s. Islam never failed. It was sabotaged.

RELATED: The Not-So-Subtle Way Some Modern Imams Are Secularizing the Ummah

Conclusion: Return to What Worked

Islamic governance isn’t fantasy. It’s our history. It worked for over a thousand years.

The Prophet ﷺ ruled. The Khulafa’ ruled. The Umayyads, Abbasids, Seljuks, and Ottomans ruled. And they ruled not by separating din (religion) from dawlah (state)—but rather by integrating them.

The problem isn’t that Islamic governance is unworkable. The problem is that we’ve been taught to believe it is.

We’ve been trained to look to Machiavelli when we had Nizam al-Mulk. We celebrate Bismarck when we forget Salahuddin. Many Muslims feel apprehensive towards political Islam while ignoring its unmatched legacy of justice and unity.

Islam offers a model that combines justice with strength, piety with strategy, statecraft with spirituality. And that model still holds the answers today.

We don’t need to reinvent the wheel. We need to remember.

RELATED: The Logical Necessity of the Caliphate