Iqbal argues that the separation of Church and State is not a universal political principle but a specifically Christian resolution to a specifically Christian problem — the structural dualism produced when a movement born as a monastic order was grafted onto the Roman state. Islam began as a civil society equipped with a set of simple legal principles analogous to Rome's Twelve Tables, so the dualism the Turkish Nationalists imported 'does not exist in Islam.'
Section 4 developed Iqbal's metaphysical alternative to the Church/State distinction — the claim that Islam is a 'single unanalysable reality' in which the spiritual and the temporal are not separate domains but perspectival aspects of one reality, and that theocracy, rightly understood, means any state aiming at the realisation of ideal principles rather than mere domination. Section 5 now delivers the historical argument that supports this metaphysical claim: the separation of Church and State is not a universal political principle but a product of specifically Christian history, and the Turkish Nationalists' adoption of it is therefore the importation of a framework that has no organic basis in Islam's own development.
The section is compact — a single dense paragraph — but it advances three distinct arguments in rapid succession. First, Iqbal identifies the genealogy of the Turkish secularist position: it was 'assimilated from the history of European political ideas,' not derived from Islamic sources. Second, he explains why the Church/State separation arose in Christianity: because Christianity began as 'a monastic order in a profane world, having nothing to do with civil affairs,' so that when the Roman state became Christian, Church and State 'confronted each other as distinct powers with interminable boundary disputes between them.' The dualism is structural — built into the very origins of Christianity as a world-renouncing movement subsequently yoked to political power. Third, Iqbal argues that 'such a thing could never happen in Islam,' because Islam was 'from the very beginning a civil society' — it arrived not as a monastic withdrawal from political life but as a complete social order, equipped from the outset with 'a set of simple legal principles' analogous to the Twelve Tables of Roman law, carrying 'great potentialities of expansion and development by interpretation.'
The comparison with the Twelve Tables is the section's most striking intellectual move. By likening the Qur'anic legal principles to the foundational code of Roman law — a code that every educated European would recognise as the seed from which the entire edifice of Roman jurisprudence grew — Iqbal simultaneously dignifies the Islamic legal tradition (it is analogous to the most celebrated legal achievement of Western civilisation) and frames it as inherently dynamic (the Twelve Tables were not a finished legal system but a starting point that required centuries of interpretive development). The Qur'anic legal principles, like the Twelve Tables, are not a static code but a generative foundation — and ijtihād is the mechanism of their development.