The term “weapons of mass destruction” (WMD) entered popular parlance some fifty years ago. By convention, though not always without controversy, it has been understood to include not only nuclear weapons – the weapon of mass destruction par excellence – but also biological and chemical weapons. If indeed the last two types are included in the category of WMD, then ethical debates on such weapons date back much further in time, to the late nineteenth century, when chemical weapons became enough of a concern to European states that they moved to delegitimize them even before they were fully developed. Yet attention to the ethics of WMD as a category of weapons distinct from others has been extremely sparse, whether it is among policy makers, the media, or scholars – that is, until recently. The September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on the United States demonstrated quite clearly the vulnerability of even the most powerful states to large-scale death and destruction perpetrated by a group of committed insurgents. The weapons employed on that day were unconventional weapons of the crudest sort: box cutters and civilian airplanes. After the attacks, however, no one can remain complacent that future terrorism will not involve chemical, biological, or nuclear weapons. The George W. Bush administration argues that the prevention of such an event requires preemptive action, not just against nonstate actors, such as the al-Qa'ida network, but also against alleged state sponsors of terrorism, the regime of Saddam Hussein in Iraq being the first target.

Since the early 1960s, several Muslim states have figured prominently in international concerns on proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. The Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty lists seven Muslim-majority states among the forty-four “nuclear-capable” states whose ratification is necessary for the treaty to enter into force: Algeria, Bangladesh, Egypt, Indonesia, Iran, Pakistan, and Turkey. Pakistan, of course, became a confirmed nuclear power in May 1998. Not included in this list are three other states that are known to have sought nuclear capability: Iraq, Libya, and Syria. Iraq not only came close to developing nuclear weapons during the 1980s, but it was also a leading developer of chemical and biological weapons. Its repeated use of chemical weapons against Iranians and Kurds during the Iran-Iraq War is one of the most egregious violations of international agreements banning the use of such weapons. Iraq is, however, not alone among Muslim states in having stockpiled and used chemical weapons, nor in developing biological weapons.

Aside from these states, the threat posed by Muslim terrorist groups has steadily increased over the past decade. Because of its financial resources, its network of affiliated organizations around the world, and the technical sophistication of its recruits, al-Qa'ida is justifiably perceived as the principal WMD terrorist threat today. Documents and crude laboratories uncovered by coalition forces in Afghanistan indicate that the network led by Usama bin Ladin tried actively to develop or acquire chemical, biological, and nuclear weapons.

From its formative years, the Islamic tradition has grappled with the tension between the existential reality of particularistic group identities and loyalties and the normative vision of a universal Muslim community; between the attachments and claims of peoples to particular places and the recognition that the world we inhabit is the common legacy of all humankind. The life of the prophet Muhammad contains ample evidence that he both recognized and used the power of tribal affinities while simultaneously working to establish the transcendent identity of membership in the community of Muslim believers, the umma. According to one hadith, the Prophet declared: “He is not of us who proclaims the cause of tribal partisanship ('asabiyya); and he is not of us who fights in the cause of tribal partisanship; and he is not of us who dies in the cause of tribal partisanship.” Seven centuries later, Ibn Khaldun argued that what the Prophet castigated was not group loyalties ('asabiyya) per se, only the negative consequences stemming from blind chauvinism. Group feelings are natural to human beings and, when properly motivated and channelled, are necessary to the Muslims' fulfillment of God's purpose. In 1933, Rashid Rida responded in much the same way when asked if twentieth-century Muslim nationalism was merely another manifestation of 'asabiyya. When nationalism is the patriotic expression of a people's desire to rid themselves of foreign oppression, he argued, it is quite different from the narrow tribal ethos condemned by Islam.