In terms of siyāsah, especially within a minority situation, the MJC or any other similar ʿulamāʾ organization has no formal authority within the political and legal structures that exist.
Public adherence to decrees by the MJC and the like are, in this non-political and non-legal sense, a matter of choice and volition.
At the level of the collective Muslim conscience, however, it lies firmly rooted in the obligation of istiftāʾ and fatwā. Traditionally the institution of fatwā was decentralized and not state controlled. As such there could be, and often was, any number of contending fatwa authorities, the public being left to their choice of fatwā authority. This remained the case until the appointment of a state muftī under the Ottomans, ushering in an era in which fatwā came to reside under the umbrella of the organs of state. Successor states to the Ottoman Empire (which includes Egypt, Jordan, Syria, Saudi Arabia etc) all perpetuated the same feature.
The institution of fatwā is of course distinct and separate from that of qaḍāʾ, which is highly regulated in both the appointment of qadīs and the demarcation of their authority.
But back to our situation. How is a minority Muslim community supposed to conduct its religious affairs? Is there to be any form of consolidation of religious authority, of both the fatwā and qaḍāʾ fields, or must each individual group simply conduct their affairs on their own?
Classical fuqahāʾ almost invariably treated the organization of religious authority within the context of an Islamic polity. The specter of Muslim at some future stage living as a minority under non-Muslim politico-legal suzerainty simply does not appear to have occurred to them.
There is, however, one notable exception. Imām al-Ḥaramayn in his work Ghiyath al-Umam raises the question of the loss of Muslim political power and the obligation of the ʿulamāʾ to step into the void thus created. From this stems the organization and consolidation of a quasi-political religious authority by the ʿulamāʾ.
With the emergence and establishment of a minority Muslim community at the Cape the question of leadership of this community arose. Just as Egyptians, after the destruction of Muslim political leadership in Egypt through Napoleon’s 1799 invasion, turned to the Shaykh al-Azhar ʿAbdullah al-Sharqāwī for leadership, the early Cape Muslims turned to the ʿulamāʾ in their midst—most noticeably Tuan Guru.
Representation by the ʿulamāʾ of Muslim interests, and their leadership of the Muslim community was therefore born of acknowledgement and acceptance by the Muslim community themselves. That this happened in a manner that exactly mirrors Imām al-Ḥaramayn’s theory speaks volumes of his very correct understanding and prognostication of Muslim society and the structures of authority that operate within it.
By 1945, when my late father was only a child of 10, the Cape ʿulamāʾ had taken their final consolidating step. An organization of ʿulamāʾ was established. The name given to this organization was telling. It very clearly referenced the need for, and assumption of, qaḍāʾ authority by the Cape ʿulamāʾ.
Over years this body came to be seen as the representative body for the Muslim community of the Cape. This perception proved to be both pervasive and resilient. Despite challenges to its position the MJC has endured.
It would eventually happen that graduates from Deobandī institutions would also return to the Cape, my late father being the first, being followed decades later by graduates from Newcastle.
Islam at the Cape had its demons. One of these was the Ḥanafī–Shāfiʿī controversy overlaid by the racial Indian-Malay issue. The return of Deobandī graduates coincided with these problems, and naturally led to their exclusion from the ranks of the MJC. With the passage of years this status quo would change. In time, under the stewardship of Shaykh Nazeem Mohamed, Deobandī graduates came to occupy posts of seniority within the MJC.
Despite this, certain attitudes tended to remain static at the experience of exclusion of the 70s and 80s. Time has passed and situations have changed.
At this moment in time the question of exactly where the MJC’s authority stems from, emerges from two quarters. There are those who themselves belong to the ranks of the ʿulamāʾ but chafe at the perceived yoke imposed by the MJC. And there are those whose opposition is rooted in hostility to the ʿulamāʾ in general, and who would rather see the complete eradication of any ʿulamāʾ authority.
It would be fatal, in my estimation, for any ʿālim of whichever persuasion to cast in his lot, knowingly or unknowingly, with this second party. Undermining the authority of the MJC is never going to result in creating a power base for a new group of ʿulamāʾ.
If anything, it will lead to the complete and comprehensive erosion of any ʿulamāʾ authority from this society.
May Allah forbid.