Galina M. Yemelianova's Islamic Leadership and the State in Eurasia is nothing if not ambitious: it is a synthetic study of Islam in Eurasia (and far beyond Eurasia, in many sections) from the seventh century to the present. The book is divided into three chronological parts: the first covering history from the rise of Islam to the Russian conquests; the second detailing the Soviet period; and the final and longest section devoted to contemporary religion and politics, which is the author's area of specialization. Refreshingly, Yemelianova not only integrates Central Asia and European Russia into a single narrative, but also highlights the minority Muslim communities in Ukraine, Lithuania, and Belarus, which have received less attention, despite roots stretching back into the medieval period.
The arguments meant to unify the book's wide-ranging geographical and chronological coverage are broad and largely reflect the existing scholarly consensus: Islamic authority figures have consistently sought to protect their influence and independence from outside powers to “safeguard Islam” (1). Yemelianova views Sovietization as the single most transformative moment for understanding Islam in Eurasia today, emphasizing that Soviet institutions continue to define post-Soviet regimes, contested by globalized, Salafi Islam (2–3).
Beyond these sweeping contentions, much of the content is framed as “pure narrative,” leaving it to the reader to infer arguments based on details chosen for inclusion. For instance, immediately after beginning a fairly standard account of the first Muslim community, Yemelianova points out that ISIS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi (d. 2019) claimed descent from the Quraysh tribe (12). The implication seems to be that something indelible connects a Middle Eastern terrorist group with Eurasian Islamist groups and that the early history of Muhammad and his community is essential context for both.
There are factual errors, some of which similarly reveal subtextual arguments. For instance, Maturidi theology is characterized, repeatedly, as a synthesis between “old Persian dualistic religions, local customary norms and beliefs and Ḥanafīsm” (18, 57–58). There is a robust, exciting literature about syncretism between pre-Islamic Persian beliefs and Islam. However, Maturidism is in fact the standard, consensus Sunni theology in Eurasia, differing little from its Ash'ari counterpart elsewhere in the Islamic world. Later it becomes clear that this strange mischaracterization is in fact a tool for juxtaposing “local” Eurasian Islam with “outside” Salafi Islam (180).
The publisher’s choice to include superabundant diacritical marks (for instance in the already-anglicized ‘Emīrate’) accentuates narrative decisions that place Islam as an exotic force knowable only through specialist mediation.
At its best, this work distills over two decades of valuable field work conducted by the author all over Eurasia. Teachers and researchers might profitably refer to later chapters, which do an effective job of explaining the complex constellations of personalities and institutions that make up the official and unofficial post-Soviet establishment. However, even as a treatment of Islam in post-Soviet Eurasia, the book does not feature the author's own field research as much as one would hope, often relying instead on reheated narratives about the alleged rise of “radical Islam” in Eurasia typical of scholarship of the 1990s and 2000s. The full roster of Central Asian Hizb-ut-Tahrir members would be lost in the crowd of a single chapter of Egypt's Muslim Brotherhood, but that is not the impression a typical reader will get from this book.
Whether as a synthetic treatment of Islamic history in Eurasia, or as a study of the modern period, this work will not replace: Vernon Egger's A History of the Muslim World or Marshall Hogson's The Venture of Islam for the early centuries of Islamic history (Yemelianova's work actually makes little attempt in initial chapters to focus on Eurasia specifically); Adeeb Khalid's Central Asia for the Russian and Soviet empires; and Russia's Islam and Orthodoxy beyond the Institutions (eds. Alfrid Bustanov and Michael Kemper) for the post-Soviet period. Still, few other books consolidate this breadth of material between two covers, and in that respect it may serve as a window into post-Cold War, security-oriented scholarship on Eurasia.